Page 24 of Wicked Things
She doesn’t. She lowers her weight down onto me further, until she’s not supporting herself at all, and then she rubs her fingers against the tip of my cock, trapped between our bodies. I’m so sensitive, I can’t help but hiss.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” I growl. “I can’t.”
“But you want to. Youwantme. Do you think denying yourself this small mercy is going to make any of this better? Because it’s not. It’s only going to make it worse.”
She angles her hips forward again, and the pressure sends lightning racing around my body. This ungodly desire inside of me rattles against the bars I have constructed, trying to cage it. Yesterday, those bars felt strong. Impregnable. Right now, with her on top of me, the smell of her filling my head, the feel of her skin like silk against mine, the bars feel weak and flimsy, nothing more than kindling. I already know I’m not going to be able to deny this savage need. I’m crumbling even as I think this to myself, but still I try and maintain the illusion that I’m strong enough to say no.
Kaya leans forward, her nipples grazing my bare chest as she lowers herself. My hands remain by my sides. I want to touch her so badly. I want to grab hold of her, take her, claim her…
Her lips brush against mine, a contact so feather light and soft that it’s barely there. I allow her to kiss me, holding my breath. I don’t trust myself. If I kiss her back, I won’t be able to leash myself. I refuse to open my eyes.
Millie’s dead. Mille’s gone. You’re never going to see her again. You didn’t get to say goodbye. You weren’t there to hold her hand. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead…
Kaya’s tongue gently traces upwards over my mouth, exhaling slowly. I share her breath, my entire body vibrating with energy, on the brink of collapse in every sense of the word. “Fuck me, Mason,” she whispers against my mouth. “Fuck me like you hate me.”
Something inside me snaps. I can’t hold on any longer. Her words…her words are like a knife cutting through my bonds of self-control. I feel like I’m being taken, overcome by a sea of liquid fire. It singes my skin, prickling, burning, biting relentlessly at me. The iron bands that feel like they’ve been constricting my chest, making it hard to breathe for so long now, suddenly shatters, and I’m moving before I can stop myself.
I take hold of her, my hands on her hips, spinning her, spinning myself, then throwing her down on the mattress beneath me. I close a hand around her throat, and a flash of panic flickers in Kaya’s eyes. It disappears as quickly as it comes, leaving behind a glittering defiance that turns the blood in my veins to molten lava. That look is dangerous. With it, she’s daring me, provoking me, challenging me to act. She doesn’t need to use it. It’s too late for me to pull back now. I couldn’t even if I tried. I close my fingers tighter around her neck, feeling just how delicate and fragile she is. Her pulse thrums like the wing of a frightened bird beneath my grip, but there is no more fear on her anymore. Only desire. Only lust. Only her own need, echoing mine, shouted back at me.
I don’t kiss her. I don’t rub my free hand between her legs, readying her, priming her for what’s to come. I use it to pin her by the hip to the bed, leaning my full body weight on top of her, preventing her from moving. Her eyes dance with excitement, and it’s too much. I do it. I release my fragile hold on all of the anger and resentment I’m carrying around with me. I slam myself into her, snarling like an animal, and Kaya’s body jolts with the force. She eyelids flutter, her mouth opening and closing as she fights for oxygen around the steel grasp I have on her throat. Again, I thrust myself inside her, growling, no longer in control of myself. She gasps again, her hands closing around my wrist. I think for a second she’s going to try and pry my hand free from her, but she doesn’t. She merely holds on to me, nodding her head as I plough myself into her again and again.
This is not pretty. It’s not gentle. It’s brutal, and it’s urgent, and it’s primal. Kaya wraps her legs around me, hugging me to her, drawing me into her harder with each and every surge of my body. She needs this as much as I do. I release my grip on her neck, allowing her to suck in a deep, ragged breath.
“Fuck, Mason. Oh my god,” she gasps. “Do it. Please. Please.Please.” She wraps her arms around me, her fingernails digging into my back, clawing at my skin. I give her exactly what she’s asking for. I fuck her like I hate her. I grit my teeth and I rock myself furiously against her, burying my cock as deep as I can, grunting and snarling with the effort.
The look of sheer ecstasy on her face triggers something in me that can’t be denied. Her lips are parted, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparking, and I can’t help it. I bow myself over her. I sink my teeth into her neck, biting down hard, fastening her to the spot like a deranged animal as I come. She comes with me, panting, crying out, her back arching off the mattress as she writhes and twists, our bodies both tensed, slick with sweat.
My release is blinding. Literally blinding. For a second, my vision goes white, and a loud humming buzzes in my ears. The room pitches sideways, and the only thing my senses truly register is Kaya’s pussy throbbing and pulsing around my dick, her own climax obviously still shooting through her in waves. A bone-deep judder passes through me. I sink down onto the bed, small fractures of light dancing in my eyes, and Kaya clings to me. I can feel her heartbeat hammering all over her body.
I wait for the horror and the shame to hit me. I’ve never fucked someone like that before. Never used their body as an outlet for my own emotions. I wait for the guilt to hit me again, but it doesn’t come. A surge of relief washes over me instead, cool and calming. Unexpected. Kaya runs her fingers up and down my back, panting. A peaceful kind of stillness has fallen over her, too. Neither of us says anything. We lay there together, our limbs intertwined, tangled together, drenched in each other’s sweat, and we just…breathe.
I feel weightless. I feel…like a burden has been taken from me, lifted clean from my shoulders. I don’t know how, but Kaya knew this was what I needed. She knew this was what webothneeded in order to survive.
ELEVEN
SLOANE
It’s dark. There are no windows in the back of the van, nor any actual seats. As the guy who shoved me in here takes corner after corner at speed, I struggle to remain seated on the rough, chipped wooden boards that have been hammed haphazardly to the floor of the van. Every time I place my hands out to try and steady myself, I catch myself on a jagged splinter or a twisted nail, jutting out at an angle.
He took my lab coat, and along with it my cell phone. He smirked when he found it in the pocket, then smirked even harder when he dropped it to the ground and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot. “Won’t be needing this anymore,” he’d informed me. That was…what? Thirty minutes ago? An hour? I have no idea how long I’ve been tumbling from one end of the van to other as he’s driven further and further away from St. Peters’ and Michael. The only thing I’m aware of at this current point in time is that I am screwed.
Seriously fucking screwed.
Panic hums through my veins, the sour, bitter taste of it manifested on my tongue, flooding my mouth. I have decisions to make. Do I tell whoever this guy is that I’m pregnant? On one hand, this information could make him treat me a little more carefully. On the other hand, it might have entirely the opposite affect. He could take pleasure in hurting me, trying to damage the baby on purpose, if only to hurt Zeth.
I need to ascertain who I’m dealing with first. Once I know who has taken me and for what purpose, it’ll be easier to make a judgment call. Until then, I’m just going to have to hope he doesn’t slug me in the gut for not doing as I’m told.
“Better yet,”a voice in the back of my head suggests.“Why not just do as you’re told and avoid getting hit at all.”I know it’s what I have to do. It makes so much sense, but honestly, the thought of being meek and obedient in this situation is crippling. It feels like giving in, and after the madness I’ve been through since I started looking for Alexis, giving in goes against every cell in body. Fuck this guy. Fuck whoever has told him to kidnap from my place of work, right from under the nose of the man who was sent to protect me. God, Zeth is going to be so mad at Michael. Poor guy. It’s not his fault. He can’t follow me everywhere while I’m at the hospital, and I’m the one who insisted on continuing to work there. I think, focusing as hard as I can, trying to formulate a plan, a way I might be able to get a message to one of them. If I were to try and steal a cell phone at some opportune moment, if I were to make a break for it, running at the first chance I get, then—
The van screeches to a halt. The guy must lean on the breaks hard, because I slide forward, slamming into wall of the van, hitting my temple against the cool, bare steel. Pain jangles inside my head, and for a second I can’t remember how to breathe. My limbs feel slack, loose, like I’m about to pass out, but I don’t. A door slams, and then I hear boots crunching on gravel, making their way around the van. Another door slam follows. A second set of footsteps in the gravel. So therearetwo of them after all. The woman pretending to be a nurse at the hospital said, “theyhave my son”, but I assumed one of the guys had left since I only saw the man in the black felt jacket back in the parking lot.
I squint, my head throbbing painfully as the rear doors are thrown open and daylight floods the van. Two tall, silhouetted figures stand side by side, looking at me, not saying anything, their features obscured by the bright light shining at their backs. So strange. It was definitely dark out when I got into the van.Definitely. So how can it possibly be daylight now? I squint past the figures of the two men, my eyes struggling to focus on what lies beyond them. After a long, worrying moment where I begin to think the bang on the head I just suffered might have affected my vision permanently, my eyes clear, adjusting to the brightness, and I see the truth of it: it’s not daylight after all. It’s bright, stark floodlights, lots of them, casting giant streamers of cold light out into the night. Some sort of sports arena, by the looks of things. A deserted one. I cut a look between the two men, waiting for either one of them to speak, but neither of them do. I’m about to start firing questions at them, demanding answers, when they step aside to reveal a third figure, also cast into shadow by the lights. This figure is different, though. Smaller. More slender. Narrower at the shoulders. It’s a woman.
The sound of high heels clicking on the blacktop rings out, echoing loudly. The woman moves toward the van, slowly, sinuously, like some sort of predatory cat.When she steps into the shadow cast by the van, out of the glare thrown off by the flood lights, she snaps into focus, and everything grows very sharp for a moment.
Long, auburn hair. A slash of red lipstick at her full mouth. High cheek bones. Razor sharp, intelligent, dark blue eyes. She’s wearing a tight, formal, business-like dress, the hem almost touching her knees, however the neckline is scandalously low. The material is a deep Irish green, complimenting her fair complexion and her fiery hair color.
I know her. In some distant, long forgotten part of my mind, I know her. I frantically try to place her, to figure out who she works for, but I draw a blank. It’s not until she holds her hand out to the guy standing to her right, the guy who shoved me in the back of the van, and he hands her a cigarette, that a memory flashes into my mind. A hot, sunny day by a pool. The woman before me holding a cigarette, placing it between her lips, lighting it…
