I’ve been here before.
I’ve drowned in fear.
I’ve suffocated under panic.
This is a warped kind of déjà vu I can’t get away from quick enough. I struggle to fight the need to pummel my fist into something.
I’d fallen asleep beside her. I probably even had a smile on my face. Then I woke up in a nightmare I hadn’t prepared for. I’d been on a fucking high. I’d been winning a battle I’d been losing for so damn long.
Then…this.
I shove from the counter and yank open the fridge to take out the lasagna we picked up from the diner. I remove the meal from the plastic container, reheat it, then drop my plate to clatter on the dining table as I take a seat and start feeding my face.
I ignore Keira. I pretend my focus isn’t entirely on my peripheral vision which is stalking the darkness of the back yard as I fork food into my mouth. I don’t even flinch as the sensor light illuminates the back deck.
She walks forward, coming to sit on a wooden lounge chair and wrapping herself in a blanket.
It’s cold out there. I’d barely felt it when I stalked outside in my boxers, but her lithe body would be chilled all over. And now I feel fucking guilty because she’s obviously keeping her distance from the asshole hiding out inside.
I fight the need to lecture her again. I ignore the rampant pulse demanding I go to her and purge all the bullshit clogging my veins.
I need to stay away. And I want to be close.
The opposing forces are pulling me apart.
It doesn’t take long for her to come inside on her own, dragging the blanket behind her. Wordlessly, she demands all my attention even though I don’t look at her. It’s enough that I feel her through every beat of my pulse.
I anticipate every softly padded footstep as she approaches. I hear the delicate scrape of the blanket against the furniture as she draws near.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” She stops beside me, within arm’s reach.
I keep chewing, keep venting my frustration on the food I’m decimating between my teeth. It’s not safe to talk. Not yet. There’s still too much adrenaline eating up my marrow.
She drops the blanket to the floor and scoots onto the chair beside me, the smooth skin of her legs eating up my peripheral vision.
“When I came here with my family, I was never allowed outside,” she speaks softly. “When I was little, we were given excuses—either the lawn had been sprayed with weed chemicals or a wild animal had been seen in the neighborhood. As we got older, the excuses stopped, but the rule of staying inside always remained. We were told it wasn’t safe, no matter how many armed men guarded the property.”
She sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “When I woke up this afternoon, the house felt different. For the first time since my mother died, this place didn’t seem like a prison. And when I came into the living room and found it flowing with warmth and sunlight, I couldn’t resist breaking my father’s rules. I think I actually needed to break them to prove to myself I’m not living in his gilded cage anymore.”
She’s not helping to lower my pulse. I don’t care what story she has or how many rules she wants to break.
I shove the last piece of lasagna in my mouth and push from the seat, dumping the dirty plate in the sink.
“You’re going to ignore me now?”
I clutch the counter and bite back a snarl. “You accused me of being an asshole. I’m keeping my mouth shut to stop you from flinging the same insult again.”
“You were being an asshole.”
“And I’ll continue to be if we keep talking about this bullshit. There’s a fucking reason you weren’t allowed outside, Keira.”
“I know… Like I said, I’m sorry.”
“You need to be more careful until we know who the enemy is.” I turn to face her, one hand still clutching the kitchen counter. “Mistakes like that could get us both killed.”
She winces, and the pained expression deals me another generous hand of guilt.
“I’m not trying to be an asshole,” I grate. “I’m—”
“I don’t have a problem with your honesty. It’s how similar you sound to my father.”
My muscles tense, every inch of me growing rigid. “I’ll never be anything like him, or anyone else in your family, for that matter. The only thing we have in common is our need to keep you safe.”
She nods, her eyes turning somber.
I want to go to her. To touch. To soothe. But that won’t achieve a thing, not when my anger will turn to lust and we’ll be fucking in the space of a heartbeat. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”
Her lips fall into a flat line, then seconds later she’s beaming me a deceptive smile. “Friends. I wanted them to know I’m okay.”
Anxiety and distraction—that’s the story her features give. Lies and deceit. Fucking hell. For once, I wish I could believe her.
“Friends?” I approach, moving to stand beside her chair. “I bet they were happy to hear from you.”
She nods. “Yeah, they were.”
I hold out a hand. “Can I have a look at the phone?”
“Why?” Her brows knit tight. “It’s almost out of battery.”
“I won’t take long.” I keep my hand outstretched, waiting, scrutinizing.
She doesn’t move, deliberately masking her expression, removing all sense of emotion to leave me staring at a blank slate. I have to remind myself she has every right not to trust me, but fuck, sometime soon I hope this tiresome game will end.
“Who were you really talking with?”
Her jaw tightens and she inches forward, about to slide from the chair.
“You weren’t talking to friends, were you?” I growl.
More adrenaline floods my veins as I wonder what trouble is headed our way.
She’s smarter than this.
I could’ve sworn she was.
She scowls. “You’re being an asshole again.”
“An asshole who fucking cares about you.” I return her look of defiance. “You still don’t get it. I’m here for you. No one but you. Why is it so hard to tell me the fucking truth?”
“Because trust doesn’t come easily.” She raises her voice. “I’m trying, Sebastian. I shared the story about my childhood, didn’t I? I’m letting you in as fast as I can, but it takes time.”
“We don’t have time if you’re using a traceable phone.”
“It’s not traceable.” She scoots off the chair, her feet landing on the tile beside mine, bringing us chest to chest. “I may have done a few stupid things, but I’m not completely dense.”
I keep my hands at my sides, instead of where they want to be—on her arms. I’m so fucking angry, but all I can see are those eyes. That mouth. The tongue that glides out to moisten her lower lip.
She tilts her face toward mine, the temptation getting closer.
“Did you tell anyone where we are?” I inch forward, her breath faintly brushing my skin.
“No.”
My hips press into hers, my hardening cock pulsing between us. “Did you say anything that could risk your safety?”
She swallows and shakes her head. “No.”
Damn it to hell. I’ve never been more caught up in a woman like this before. I’ve never been this intrigued. This enslaved.
I want her.
I need her.
I have to fucking have her.
“You should get out of here before I do something we both regret.”
Her breath hitches, and those intense blue eyes flare. “Again, no.”
10
Decker
I steal her mouth. Her breath. Her kisses.
I force out my frustration with every swipe of my tongue. I let go of my anger through the tight grip of my fingers through her hair.
“Take off the blouse.”
She obeys, her hands traveling down the buttons in a frantic rush. I shove the material off her shoulders, my mouth never leav
ing hers, and reach around her back to unclasp her bra. My palms scour her body, down her arms, along her waist, to the sides of her breasts.
I groan at the perfection and pull away to take in the sight.
“God, you drive me to madness.” I slam my mouth back down on hers, my tongue delving deep.
She claws at my chest, her nails puncturing skin as I grab her waist and place her on the table. Her legs encircle my hips, her skirt rising to the apex of her thighs.
“I want you naked.” I tug at her underwear, making her shuffle as I lower them over her ass.
I couldn’t think before. I’d been delirious with rage. Now is no different, but the delirium is from lust. I still can’t form a coherent thought. I’m lost in her. Mindless.
She grips the waistband of my boxers, shoving them down my thighs to pool on the floor. Our arms are everywhere. Touching. Tangling. Eager for more.
“There’s no going back from this,” I warn.
She nods, our noses brushing, lips touching.
“I mean it.” I inch away to meet her gaze. “I won’t be sated with a quick fuck. If this happens, you’re mine and mine alone.”
Her lips part on silent words.
“I won’t share you, Keira. Not your heart or your mind.” I reach a hand between us, sliding my fingers over her mound to her slit. She’s wet. Slick and fucking dripping. “Not with anyone. I’ll breathe nothing but you, and you’ll know nothing but me in return. No other man will exist. Not to touch you. Or to rule over you. Not your uncle. Not your father. And certainly not your fucking brother.”
I’m trying to scare her. Not a lot. Just enough to make her see what’s at stake.
“Do you understand?” I growl. “When it comes to you, I’m not only after the physical. I’ll demand more than you can imagine. More than you’re probably willing to give.”
This goes beyond sex. It’s about claiming her. Bringing her to my side—to my team. Stealing her away from a callous brother and a monster of a father. She doesn’t deserve the life they’ve given her. It’s not right that she was born into the wrong family.
“Sebastian…” My name is a plea to stop.
“I want to save you, Keira.” I grip her chin. “Please let me fucking save you.”
Her lips press together as she blinks up at me with concern. She wants to pull away, and I can’t let her. I won’t.
“You don’t need to live like this. You deserve better.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“This is my world. I’m the same as my brother, Sebastian. I’m no different.”
“You don’t believe that.” I stroke her cheek. Run my fingers along her jaw.
“I do.” She brushes her lips over mine. “Maybe I’m worse.”
“You’re nothing like him.” I run the pad of my thumb over her clit, making her jolt. “You never could be. I wouldn’t be here if you were.”
I press harder on her sex, making her eyes roll.
“Oh, God.” She gasps. “That feels incredible.”
“I can make it feel even better if you say yes to me, baby.” I slide my fingertips through her slit, teasing her entrance. “Tell me you want this.”
She doesn’t rush to answer. She takes a moment, prolonging the anticipation that burns a hole through my chest.
“Yes.” She shudders. “I want you.”
A growl rumbles beneath my sternum. The victory is invigorating to the point of hysteria. She wiggles as I stroke her, a soft hum vibrating from her throat.
“Protection?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “If you’re safe, we don’t need it.”
“You sure?” I’m clean. I trust she’s the same. “I won’t ask twice.”
She cocks a brow. “And I won’t repeat myself.”
I smirk and grab her ass, yanking her to the edge of the table. There’s no space between us. We’re chest to chest. Hip to hip.
I grip my cock, running the head back and forth through her slickness. She groans, palming my cheek as she molds our mouths together.
There’s never been a better feeling. Not physically. Not emotionally. I’m caught up in her. Tangled beyond the ability to get out unscathed.
This will change everything.
I squeeze my eyes shut, denying the thoughts any room in my mind, and thrust into her. Hard.
She squeals. I’m not convinced it’s a pleasure-filled sound. She turns rigid. Her hands gripping my shoulders like a lifeline.
“Keira?” Her pussy is suctioned around me, squeezing my dick within an inch of its life. She’s so damn wet. So fucking tight. “Are you okay?”
“It’s been a while. That’s all.” She murmurs in my ear as she clings to my shoulders. “Go slow.”
This woman is all about the torture. A leisurely pace is going to be hell to maintain. I grind into her. Retreating. Advancing. The gentle rhythm is a killer against my control.
In slow increments, she relaxes—her claws, her legs, her shoulders. She begins to roll her hips with my motions, undulating against me, kissing my neck, my jaw, my cheek.
She whimpers as I move. Moans.
God, the sound is fucking intoxicating.
“If you keep making noises like that, slow isn’t going to be a possibility for much longer.”
She chuckles. “Maybe slow is no longer necessary.”
She’s teasing me. Tormenting.
I don’t care. I can’t get enough.
She’s beautiful. So fucking gorgeous. “What are you doing to me?”
I rock into her. Faster. Harder.
She doesn’t protest, but those whimpers continue.
The room fills with the slush of her dripping pussy milking me. The slap of flesh on flesh. She curls a hand around my neck and arches her back, those perfect tits thrusting in my direction.
I lean over, sucking a nipple into my mouth. I nibble. I grate. I lap and lap and fucking lap until she’s jolting with pleasure.
“This is crazy.” Her thighs tighten. Her cunt grips like a vice. “I want to come.”
“Then do it, gorgeous.” I leave a trail of kisses along her chest, all the way to her neck, right below her ear. “Let go.”
She shakes her head in refusal, and I know it has nothing to do with a lack of want. It’s more than that. She can’t let down her guard. She won’t. Not entirely.
“Trust me,” I demand. Or maybe I’m begging. Pleading. “Trust me enough to enjoy this.”
She whimpers, not stopping the rhythmic undulation.
I can barely see straight. “Tell me what you need.”
“You,” she pants. “Just you.”
She throws her head back, leaning one hand on the table, all that smooth, flawless skin on display from neck to pussy.
A masterpiece.
A siren.
The perfect weapon that’s now in my very own arsenal. “You’re a fucking dream, Keira. You’re perfect. You’re mine.”
“Sebastian,” she whimpers. “Sebastian.”
Her pussy contracts around my dick, her orgasm hitting with a feminine moan.
I match her rhythm, slamming home. My balls tighten. The base of my shaft, too. I’m done. It’s all over.
I come, clinging to her, kissing her, my fingers gripping deep enough I’m probably leaving imperfections on her beautiful skin.
Nothing else in the world exists while I’m buried inside her. Not the past I’d kill to change. Or the temperamental present. And especially not the rocky future headed our way.
It’s just us.
Me and her.
And I wish it could stay this way.
“I…” She sighs, her movements slowing. “I…”
“You?” I pull back, placing a kiss on her forehead as I retreat. “Can’t finish a sentence because I rocked your fucking world?”
She grins and slumps forward, draping herself over me as she pants. “I don’t know why I expected something other than co
cky humor at a time like this.”
I bury my face in her hair. “I’m always willing to give you all the cock-y you need.”
She shoves me away, scoffing through her laughter. “I need to clean up.”
I nod, but my hands refuse to give her up.
“Which means you’re going to have to move so I can get to the bathroom.” She beams up at me, her eyes dazzling, her face more mesmerizing than words can describe.
I keep nodding. “I will. Just not ready to let go of you yet.”
The grin turns shy. Almost embarrassed.
Shit.
I’m done for.
She fucking owns me.
“You said it’s been a while.” I run my fingers through her hair, swiping the stray strands behind her ear as I give in to curiosity. “How long?”
Her cheeks darken with the cutest blush. “Long enough that I needed time to adjust.”
Yeah, I got that part. I’d initially hurt her, and I feel like a fucking chump for doing it. But I’m still confused.
“What’s with the abstinence?” It doesn’t make sense. She’s phenomenal. Fucking captivating. Men would fall to their knees to please her. “You don’t like sex?”
She sobers, the glaze of lust blinking from her eyes. “It comes down to trust, Sebastian. Everything does.” She places her palm on my chest, gently pushing. “Let me clean up.”
I backtrack, allowing her to scoot from the table and hustle into the hall.
While she’s gone, I pull on my boxers and knit my fingers behind the back of my head as reality jackhammers its way into my skull.
Tonight is a game changer.
This thing with Keira will affect my relationship with Hunter. With Torian. And I can’t forget Anissa, too.
Everything will shift, and I can only hope it’s for the best, because my life doesn’t have room for any more wrong turns.
I go in search of the laundry to find my clothes, giving her a few minutes alone. I don’t find anything in the washing machine, so I check the dryer, the warmth still radiating from the clothes as I pull out my dress shirt.
The material is clean, crisp, and scented like a florist as I shove my arm into the sleeve and proceed to get my hand stuck at the cuff.
“What the fuck?” I jab my arm harder, getting my fist through the restriction and deal with the same exact issue with the other arm.
Decker Page 10
