Page 138 of Addicted
Grabbing a fistful of his soft hair, I close the distance between us, slamming my lips to his in a brutal kiss of punishment and relief. He doesn’t kiss me back for a moment, and then with agrowl, his hand closes around the front of my throat and he takes charge of the kiss, his lips and tongue all the apology I need.
“I’m sorry, Brat,” he murmurs against my swollen lips what feels like an eternity later. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You never leave me again, you hear?” I demand, tears once again falling down my cheeks. He kisses each one, lapping them up, and my hard cock strains in my pants—fucking plain black in order to better blend in, or so Aeron said. You only wear black pants when bad things happen, so I’m going to fucking burn them when we get home and never wear black pants again. Nothing bad will happen then, problem solved.
“I swear, Jude. I’ll always be by your side,JigarTalâ,” he whispers back, and a sob sounds from my throat at the endearment. I knew it was his thing with Nightingale, but I didn’t realize that I craved hearing him say it to me.
“We need to make a move,” Aeron’s voice sounds behind me, and I turn, Tarl’s hand falling from my throat but grasping my hand.
“Looks like it’s you and me in the hay,JigarTalâ,” Lark jokes, biting her lips at her own pun, which is just too fucking adorable.
“No fair, I want to join in,” I whine, hearing Tarl’s deep chuckle which sends shivers straight to my straining cock.
“We’re both injured—” Tarl warns, cutting off when I whirl around and frantically look at him, only now remembering what Nightingale said in the van.
“Where?” My heart races, the blood rushing past my ears in a torrent as I note the bruise on his cheek and the blood from his split lip that I know Knox gave him. He holds up his left hand, and my eyes widen when I see the bandage wrapped around it.
“Luckily, I stopped using my fingers to count when I was a boy, as I’d only have nine now,” he shrugs, and I grip his wrist,seeing the part where his little finger should be is much flatter than you’d expect.
“First, there is fuck all wrong with counting on your fingers,” I tell him, fucking bastard for calling me out like that. “And second, well, fuck. Guess I’m lucky it wasn’t that beautiful dick of yours they chopped off.”
“Did not need to know that, son.” Pops sighs, and like a dam has broken, we all laugh until tears flow down our cheeks, the beautiful, Iranian night sky twinkling above us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“UNCONDITIONAL” BY FREYA RIDINGS
LARK
“Iam not fucking crawling into that for fourteen fucking hours!” I stand there, one hand on my hip—the other being in a bloody sling—as I look at the metal horse box that Tarl and I will spend the next fourteen hours in. “What if I need a piss?”
“There’s a porta potty in there, Nightingale. Thought that was better than an open bucket,” Jude tells me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pulling me into his body heat.
“Of fucking course there is,” I grumble, still melting into him as my body relaxes completely in his arms.
“And lots of fresh hay,” Knox adds from beside us, and I swear to fucking God I’m going to wipe that smirk off his handsome face if he doesn’t stop laughing at me soon.
“And I added lots of snacks and water for you, Dove,” Aeron tells me from the other side, his usual serious look replaced witha very slight upward tilt of his lips. “And a torch so that when we’re in the air, you won’t be in the dark. Plus, blankets to keep warm.”
“I don’t get why we can’t just come back in the cabin with you guys,” I whine, wincing when my shrug pulls on my injured shoulder, a flash of pain taking my breath away for a second. Aeron’s almost smile turns into a concerned frown and he comes to step in front of me, Jude still at my back.
“I would be much happier if you could, Dove,” he murmurs softly, taking my face in his hands. Sparks and tingles race from his touch and I wonder if it will always be like this when he or any of them touch me. They set me alight. “I hate being separated from you so soon, but they smuggled you into Iran, there is no record of you leaving the US and so we have to smuggle you both back into America.”
I take a deep inhale, breathing in his clean cotton and sandalwood scent, Jude’s popping candy and sunshine smell mixing in until it’s all I can sense.
“Fine,” I huff, knowing that he’s right and we really have little choice. “But you fucking owe me all the orgasms for this.” Aeron’s grip tightens as he brings our foreheads together.
“I will spend days, no…weeks, fucking you until you can’t speak, Dove. I will tie you to our bed and we will each take turns until you are so full of our cum it drips out of you, and you can’t move without feeling our marks and love all over that sweet body.”
Before I can try to reboot my brain, he closes the distance between us, kissing me with such passion that the world around us melts away, leaving only his lips on mine, his hard body pressed up against me as he conquers me. My free hand grasps his shirt, pulling him closer, a growl of frustration sounding in my throat when my sling gets in the way.
He chuckles, pulling back with a sharp nip to my lip that sees to the complete destruction of my panties.
“Bastard,” I murmur, my legs feeling all kinds of weak, and not just from exhaustion.
Aeron steps back to be replaced by Knox, who wastes no time in kissing the shit out of me too. His kiss is no less claiming than Aeron’s, but there’s a yearning, a desperate longing for riding off into the sunset together in Knox’s kiss that reflects my soul. He leaves me just as breathless as Aeron did when he ends the kiss as quickly as he started it.
“See you on the other side, Little Bird,” he tells me, his lips puffy in the fading moonlight, his eyes devouring me.
