Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2)

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Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) Page 18

by Evie Mitchell


  He pulled me, nearly running in our haste. He pushed me up against the passenger door, his wonderfully filthy mouth making me think filthy thoughts. Things like where I wanted him to fuck me, how I wanted it, the raging desire a beast within me that wanted to nip, bite, and suck every part of him.

  “I want you,” I panted, hands pulling at his dress shirt. “I want to taste you.”

  “Where?” he asked, nipping at my collar bone. “Where do you want to taste me, love?”

  My head lolled as he palmed my breast. “Your… cock. I want to–”

  He abruptly dropped his hands, stepping back. We panted, staring at each other.

  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He hesitated for one moment, before swearing under his breath. “Get in the car, Emmie.”

  “But–”

  He turned his back, rounding the bonnet to the driver’s side. I slid in, depressingly deprived of his heat. Luc started the car, his jaw clenching as we sped out of the underground park.

  I caught a glimpse of his face, as he navigated the streets.

  “Luc?”

  “Shh, Keys.” His hand reached out, finding mine.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I asked, my uncertainty, my inexperience feeding my insecurities.

  His head turned, his eyes searing. He dropped the mask, letting me see raw unadulterated need.

  “No.” The word was a tortured groan. “Never.”

  I squeezed his hand before he removed it, changing gears. We drove in silence until we reached his house. Anticipation tingled, building as he drove us home. Fantasies built and, as we turned into his driveway, I plucked up the courage to ask for the one fantasy I wanted.

  “Will you let me taste you?”

  The tires screamed, the car skidded on the loose gravel as the car bumped to a halt. Luc climbed out, rounding the bonnet, jerking my door open, pulling me free of the car. His mouth crashed down on mine as he boosted me up, encouraging my legs to wrap around his waist.

  I am not small. I am a Viking of a woman. I have tits, arse, and stand close to six feet tall. Luc didn’t struggle. He took my weight, groaning as my arse settled into his hands. He pushed me against the garage wall, fucking my mouth with his tongue, squeezing my arse with his hands as I dry humped him, my legs holding him tight.

  “Fuck,” he groaned, pulling back. I whimpered a protest.

  “Keys, Em, love…” He tried to regain control. “Inside, we need to go…”

  I hopped down, powering for the door. We reached it, hitting the locks, unarming the house. The door opened and I headed for the bedroom, Luc close on my heels. Inside, we crashed together, a frantic wave of need. His beautiful beard dragged across my sensitized skin as I stripped him of his jacket, his belt, his tie. He ripped the shirt, buttons popping across the room as I dropped to my knees, hands frantically reaching for his fly.

  “Emmie.”

  My name sounded like a plea, and that did things to me. Things I enjoyed. I wanted to wring that sound from him again. I wanted him to only ever say my name in that needy, desperate voice.

  My hands slowed as I drew out his cock. I glanced up. He panted, his gorgeous chest covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His hands were clenched at his side, as if he were trying to stop from taking over.

  Oh, but I wanted him to lead.

  I gripped him, using a technique I may have googled.

  May have? You googled the heck out of how to tickle his pickle.

  I drew his cock down, tracing its crown against my lips. He groaned, the broken sound feeding my desire.

  “Emmie.”

  I opened my mouth, tongue dipping to taste him. Heat and salt and man.

  Delicious.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Luc

  Em’s mouth was wetter and hotter than anything I’d ever felt. Or maybe it’s just I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone or anything in my life.

  She stroked my length with her tongue, flicking playfully at the underside of my crown, pulling curses from me with surprising ease.

  “Fuck. Jesus. Fuck. Christ. Fuck. Fuck.”

  Her lips wrapped around me, taking me as deep as she could.

  And I died. My eyes rolled back in my head as words spilled from my mouth uncensored.

  “Yes, take me deeper, Keys. Suck my cock,” I urged.

  She moaned as she took me, getting off on my directions.

  It took every piece of will power I had to keep from grabbing her hair, holding her still and fucking her mouth. But I’d spent too many months fisting my own cock to destroy this fantasy.

  She drew back. “Luc?”

  “Okay?”

  She licked her lips, hand still firmly around my cock. She dragged her hand up, twisting just so.

  I nearly came. Honest to God, this girl. This magnificent creature destroyed me.

  She looked nervous for a moment, rocking on her knees.

  “Emmie?”

  She looked up at me with those big green eyes, her long lashes sweeping down to brush the curve of her cheek. Her pink delicious lips opened to say the last thing I expected.

  “Prends-moi, Lucien.”

  Holy fuck.

  My control snapped, and I reached down, mindless in my need for her. I lifted her, awkwardly moving us to the bed, throwing her onto the mattress and covering her with my body. My mouth worked its way down as my hands pulled her clothes off, peeling back the shields she used to keep everyone else at bay. No one saw this. No one knew how beautiful she was, how perfectly formed. No one but me.

  Possessed by my need to taste and touch, I wanted to consume her. I wanted her to burn with the same need, the same want I battled every day. It was all or nothing.

  I tugged jeans and underwear from her body, my hands immediately running up her legs to part her thighs. My mouth delighted in the treasures I uncovered.

  “Tu es une déesse. Je veux te posséder,” I murmured against her core. She whimpered, putting a hand in my hair, returning my mouth to her delightful pussy.

  “I don’t speak French,” she admitted between rapid pants, her eyes closed, her thighs clenched around my head as I teased her. “I googled.”

  I chuckled, my breath teasing her centre, ending her squirming. “You want me to translate?”

  “Mm.” Her hips thrust up as I swapped my tongue for a finger, moving up her body, pressing hot, wet kisses to every part of her that intrigued me. Lucky me, all of her intrigued me.

  “It means, love,” −I nipped her earlobe, enjoying her earthy groan− “you are a goddess, and I want to own you.” I pressed two fingers against her. Slick, they slid in an ever-tightening circle until I found the spot that made her gasp.

  “Luc!”

  There it is.

  I grinned, pressing a hot kiss to her mouth. She bucked beneath me, crying out as it crashed over her. I could watch this a million times and never grow tired of how she looked at this moment.

  She blinked up at me, coming down from her high. A half-smile on her pretty face.

  “Okay? I asked, aching to take her.

  “No.”

  Fuck.

  “No?”

  She shook her head, hand snaking down to pull me closer. I heard the crinkle of a wrapper before her other hand moved to slide a condom on my length.

  “No,” she whispered, her hips gently undulating. “I need you.”

  Fuck. This girl. Perfect.

  “What do you need, beautiful?” I asked, my voice rough. Her hands crept up, her hips moving higher as she squirmed.

  “You.”

  “Say it,” I demanded.

  “I need you.”

  Her head fell back as I thrust into her. Wild from the feel of her, I lost all control. She met my every thrust, her hands clutching, clawing at my back. I boosted her legs, wrapping them around my hips as she encouraged me to go harder, faster, deeper.

  Fuckin’ perfect. Fuck.

  She came. Hard. Her hot, wet pussy clutching me. Sque
ezing. I became lost in the feel of her, in her scent, her sounds, her need. I lost control.

  We crashed down in a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing.

  Calming, I reached for the cover, pulling the blanket up and over us, sealing us in a cocoon of warmth.

  “You good, beautiful?” I asked, pulling her into me. She snuggled down, running a hand over my chest.

  “Mm. Luc?”

  “Mm?”

  “I like this.”

  “The sex?”

  She waited for a moment, running her fingers gently over my chest.

  “Yes, but also this.” She seemed contemplative, her eyes focused on her softly gliding hand. “I’ve never had this.”

  “What? An attractive piece of man meat?” I asked lightly. She smiled, but it was bittersweet.

  “Someone who touches me in a good way. Someone who cares when they touch me.” She didn’t look up, still determinedly focused on her hand. “We weren’t allowed to touch each other, not even for a hug. They said it would make us impure.” She tracked her finger, making a cross on my chest, then rubbing it out. “The only person who could touch you was a deacon. And they only did it when you were bad. They’d grab you, pull you to the room, and lock you in. If you were lucky, they’d just leave you in the pit for a few days. Most of the time they hit me.”

  My arms flexed, tight around her.

  “I never knew why I was punished. I’d try to be good. I’d work extra hard. I’d never talk back or shirk my chores. Whatever they asked, I did it.”

  “Some people live to destroy. For them, to break a human is the ultimate challenge. An animal can’t beg. It can’t tell them they’ve won. They can only hurt it, making it twist and squeal until they destroy its will to live. Humans? We have a capacity, a resilience for hope. To extinguish that can be someone’s entire purpose.”

  She blinked up at me, tears shimmering on her eyelashes. “I begged that night. I just wanted it to stop.”

  I brushed her tears, not shushing her, not trying to stop her. She needed to purge this horror. I would bear any burden she laid at my feet.

  “He ripped the dress from me, pushed me down, and fucked me. There was no tenderness, no mercy. He beat me. I had bruises. I fought. I screamed and kicked and bit, and he overpowered me until I begged. And when he kept going, no matter how much I–” She choked. “I realised I couldn’t live with that.”

  Fuck.

  She was sobbing now, her hand stilled, her eyes big as she pleaded with me to understand. “It hurt so bad. Every part of me hurt.” She pressed her face to my chest, sniffling as her tears wet my chest.

  You got one chance at this. Let her get it out. Don’t fuck this up. You can murder the motherfucker and burn their world down after.

  “Abel, my brother, found me. He helped me escape. He hugged me. I don’t remember the last time I’d been hugged before then. Addie sometimes hugs me. Kel. Even Jetta. I thought I’d forever be fearful of touch. I thought I was damaged. When you touch me, I don’t think about David or Abel. I think about you and me. And I want more. I never–” Her voice broke, shoulders wracking as she sobbed. “I thought I was broken, but I’m not. And I’m so happy. I love how you touch me. How good it is. I want–” She hiccupped, pulling back to look up at me. “I want to keep doing this.”

  My heart ached even as I banked the rage.

  I pulled her closer, hoping the reality of us would sink in, helping her fight these demons. “I love you, baby. I fucking love you. You’re strong. You’re Ash from Pokémon. No matter what life throws at you, you dust yourself off and keep going.” I pressed kisses to her hair, to her wet cheeks, nuzzling her temple.

  She hiccupped a laugh. “Does that make you Pikachu?”

  “Of course. And together we’re electric.”

  She snorted, relaxing slightly.

  “First, we’re going to find these bastards and I’m going to wring their motherfucking necks. Second, if you’ll allow it, we’re getting you therapy. You’re fucking brave, but I don’t want this toxic memory to taint you. How’s that sound?”

  “Okay.” She looked up at me, her eyes bloodshot, still wet with tears. She bit her lip, ducking her head as she muttered, “I trust you.”

  “Marry me.” I hadn’t intended to ask the question. Hell, I hadn’t even considered the possibility before this moment.

  This woman is it. This brilliant, intelligent, hilarious, quirky woman. Emmie’s my one.

  I heard her breath catch, her hands flexing. She didn’t answer.

  Don’t you dare rush her.

  Finally, finally, she looked up at me, sniffling, eyes shadowed with memories. “No.”

  It didn’t matter that she’d said no. Tomorrow, next month or next year, eventually she’d conquer her fear and say yes.

  I smiled, shrugging. “That’s okay. I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

  Her lips tilted up a fraction, the shadows clearing. “I’ve only slept with you for a week. Don’t get too clingy.”

  “Oh, clingy, hmm?” I wrapped my legs and arms tight around her, chuckling as she squealed, squirming in my grasp. “Like this?”

  She laughed. It was edged with a hint of hysteria. I didn’t mind, so long as she thought of us and not them. They didn’t deserve one more moment of her.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Emmie

  The clock read 2:38 a.m.

  I was curled into Luc, my back to his front when the shrill ring of Luc’s phone pierced the silence of the house. I sat up, my eyes catching the glowing numbers on the alarm clock as my head twisted to look at Luc. His sleepy eyes met mine, even as his hand snaked out to the mobile on the bedside table.

  “This is Lu–” My mobile’s ringtone cut him off. I lost eye contact as I turned, pushing up off the bed reaching for my phone.

  “You’ve got Emmie,” I greeted, my eyes coming to rest on Luc. He scowled, glaring at the wall as he listened intently.

  “Em… Shit. Shit, Em. Shit.” Declan, the caller, sounded panicked, his voice breathy. He was one of the guys in charge of our software roll out tonight.

  “Tell me,” I demanded, watching as Luc twisted off the bed, bending to pull on the briefs he’d dropped in our earlier haste. My stomach twisted as my blood ran cold.

  “It’s… the whole system…”

  “Declan–”

  “They’re in. The whole thing is fucked.”

  I started moving. “We’re on our way.” I hit the end button as I stepped towards the dresser.

  “Emmie–”

  I threw out a hand, halting Luc.

  “I know.” We shoved on clothes in silence, my brain racing a million miles an hour. How had they gotten in, what had they taken?

  Who would they hurt?

  Luc pulled me into his chest.

  “It’s going to be okay. Remember that.” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

  We got to the office in record time. As we swiped in, the first thing I noticed were the lights. Every single light was on illuminating our office.

  Next was the noise. Printers, phones, people yelling. It was pandemonium, and we had walked right into the middle. I glanced at Luc, noting his tight jaw. He’d obviously come to the same realisation. We were the last to arrive.

  The hair on the back of my neck rose. I glanced about, searching, automatically checking for the nearest exit.

  “Pax.” Luc’s deep voice cut through the noise. All heads swung our way, conversation halting. My hand found Luc’s.

  “War room. Everyone. Now,” Pax ordered.

  I ignored, or tried to, the way people, my friends, looked at me, then skittered their gaze away.

  My belly clenched, fear churning my gut.

  Luc directed me to a seat, snagging the one next to it. Pax stood at the top of the table, his face rough.

  “Okay, here’s what we know. Max?”

  Max stood, adjusting the papers before him.

  “At 1700 hours, I clocked on for night
shift. As you all know, Declan and I were running updates on the system tonight.” He paused, glancing down at his notes.

  “At about 1830, we picked up an anomaly. Declan went to the affected computer and found this.” Max held up a small thumb-drive. “Once removed, we started running diagnostics. The fault continued. At approximately 2000 hours Declan logged in as Administrator, at which point his profile was immediately compromised.”

  Declan interrupted, “I signed in as admin expecting an easy fix. I’m sorry, I thought it was a–”

  Pax held up a hand. “Continue.”

  “By 2100 hours, it had accessed the administrator profile and locked Declan out. It was at this stage the system started to print these…” He handed a pile of papers to Ben, who took one and passed it on.

  Max held up an example. Printed on the clean white paper sat a photo of me. A still screenshot from a video. The photo had me in side profile. I was laughing and clapping as Jetta danced in front of me. It was a scene from the rehabilitation clinic the night Luc and his band had performed for us. My eyes dropped to the thick black letters.

  WE FOUND YOU

  Bile burned the back of my throat as all heat left my body in a rush, fear turning my veins to ice. They’d never tried this. This outright attack. Insidious warnings, threats. But never like this where anyone could see.

  All eyes were on me. At a distance, I heard my name being called. Luc turned my chair, filling my vision as my brain kicked back into gear.

  “Emmie?” His warm hands framed my face. “Beautiful?”

  I blinked at him. “I’m okay.” I jerked my head away and turned back to the table. “I’m okay,” I repeated, looking back at Max. “Finish it.”

  He paused, glancing at Luc and Pax for permission. They exchanged a look before nodding in unison. Jack, seated on my other side, handed me the stack of print outs. I took one, blindly handing the pile on to Luc.

  There I was. In vivid colour, every pixel another dot creating the shape of me.

  Max continued. “By 2230 Pax and Sawyer arrived to assist.” He nodded at Sawyer, who leaned forward, taking over.

 

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