Page 11 of Tethered Souls
My pulse pounding in my pussy, I remove my hand. He raises it all the way to his lips, then licks the tips of my two fingers before sucking them deep into his mouth.
My nostrils flare, and my thighs clench with unbearable need.
His eyes hot, he pops my fingers out of his mouth, then pushes his back inside me. I arch on a cry, but the pleasure is gone too quickly. Pulling free, he sucks on his fingers. A rumble echoes from his chest. My lips part on a whimper.
“Go pack a bag while I finalize things with your father,” he says, his voice tight. “We have a long drive, and I don’t want to wait much longer to fuck you.”
Hoping off the desk, I practically run for the door, for once in my life not bristling at being given a command.
“And, Micha?” he says, stopping me in my tracks. “Put on a dress and take off your underwear.”
Four
HIM
Micha leaves the office, and I head for the dark wooden cupboard beside Stefaan’s desk. Opening its door, I pull out a thirty-five-year-old Karuizawa and two tumblers as Khalid and her father enter. A more polite Boss would have waited for Stefaan to offer; a ruder one would’ve rummaged around to see if there’s anything better, but I simply don’t give a damn for social politics. I just want to drink the required toast and be gone.
Placing the tumblers down on the desk, I turn back to the cupboard to search for the bottle opener, but Stefaan is already there, holding one out to me. He must have jogged across the room to get there in time. That or he kept one on him.
I take it from him with a nod of thanks, then break the wax seal and unscrew the lid. He says something about the quality of the bottle, but it’s just worthless spiel in my ears.
The whisky can’t trump the taste on my fingers, and his company can’t compete with me sinking into the pussy of my fiancee – my soon-to-be-wife, but we won’t marry until I can get her pregnant. Shadows don’t divorce. So if she can’t conceive soon, the engagement will be called off, and I’ll have to find another.
My lips flat, I pour us both a shot, then pass him one as I pick up the other for myself. I’d offer my brother one too, but I know he won’t take it. Khalid stands by the door, his eyes on Stefaan, his senses trained on everything in this room and beyond its closed door. His magic seeks any threats; his festering guilt keeps him ready. The person who attacked me thirteen months ago is still out there. We have no leads, and although I doubt it was a Black who was hired, we don’t know for sure it wasn’t.
Looking over at Stefaan as he holds his glass out to me, I lift mine in a toast. “To future ties.”
“To grandchildren,” he counters. He isn’t a family man. Doesn’t care about his own children, let alone any of theirs. But Micha’s heirs will give his Family power like he’s never known. He might be the head of an assassination gang, but they don’t hold territory. They don’t hold sway between Families, can’t give the green light for other gangs to move onto unclaimed streets like I’ve just done – the trade I made for his daughter.
I nod, and we drink. I don’t savor it. Just tip it back and then I’m gone.
My ears twitch as I enter the hall. My nostrils flare as I suck in air...and the scents my brother can’t. The small trace of Micha, her specific gleam of sweat mixed with the last lingers of raspberry and cream – a body wash perhaps that has nearly worn off. And the smell of her arousal…
I inhale deeply as I follow her trail down the staircase, pleased she isn’t still in her room, isn’t taking her time when I want her in the car waiting. My cock jerks against the cotton of my pants; her scent’s getting stronger with every step I take.
She can’t be wearing any underwear with how freely it marks the air, not hidden under the layers of fabric she had on earlier. My fingers twitch as I imagine them back inside her, curling, making her scream, making me hard as I watch her come undone.
I nearly took her in her father’s office. Nearly stepped between her thighs and buried my cock inside her after tasting her on her own fingers. But I can’t fuck her here – when there are too many variables for Khalid to handle on his own. We might’ve entered into a relationship with the Blacks, but just because they’re allies doesn’t mean they’re not enemies. And I want her to be the only thing I have to concentrate on rather than having an ear trained for anyone approaching outside, for anyone trying to attack while we are divided.
Khalid might be my bodyguard, but he’s still my little brother.
When I step outside, my eyes go to her immediately. She is sitting in the passenger seat, wearing a spaghetti strap black dress, and my cock hardens at the idea of rewarding her for her obedience. But then I spot the phone in her hand as she texts someone, giving them her attention rather than me.
My gaze narrows as my feet eat the distance between us. I open the driver’s door, and she jumps, tucking her phone down the outside of her thigh, the one further away from me, hiding it. My jaw ticks, but I don’t say anything. I don’t want a wife, someone to care about or be jealous over. I just need a womb capable of bearing a child who can survive the requirements of my Family. Who isn’t born anabomination.
Settling behind the wheel as Khalid circles the car to sit behind her, I turn on the ignition. She jerks when my hand lands on her bare leg, right above the knee. I want to go higher, to trail the black fabric of her dress up until I can push my fingers back into her naked pussy, but I don’t.
I want to tease her first. To get her worked up. To get all her attention on me, on every little brush of my fingers, on every squeeze of my palm. We have an eight hour car ride back to St. Augustine, Florida, and I want to enjoy every minute of it smelling her arousal.
Pulling out of the drive, I slide my hand further up her thigh. She jumps, a quick breath in, her muscles tense, and I can practically hear her thoughts concerning my brother. About how he’s in the car, sitting right behind her, able to tell what it is I’m doing.
But I know he doesn’t give a damn. Khalid ran into some woman on the street nearly two years ago, and he’s damn obsessed. I don’t know her name, and I haven’t met her, but I see the effect she has on him. Nothing else can compare to the brilliant star she is in his mind, twinkling in the dark that is his world. He’s even celibate now. Hasn’t looked at another girl since. Hel, the guy hasn’t even jacked off to porn. In the few times I’ve caught him masturbating, his eyes have been closed. No doubt imagining her.His girl.
A pang of envy hits me hard, a yearning for the chance to be that close to someone, but my mind quickly cuts in with all the reminders about why that can never happen.
How many times have once-trusted capos attempted to kill me? Family uncles and cousins – men I grew up with, broke bread with, who gave me their vow of loyalty only to turn traitor. And Micha is a hitman for hire. A Black. She’d kill her own family if the pay was good enough.
But even if she was a civvy and I wasn’t a target…our child could be murdered because ofmygenes. How can there be anything real between us when I’m keeping that from her?
