Silver Vein: Beneath the City Sleeps Book 1
Page 14
“Xavier.” His name leaves my lips like a sigh, almost inaudible.
“Are you pained, darling?” He asks, his lips against my ear while he pushes a second finger inside me. They curl devilishly and my walls clasp around them, swallowing whatever relief they can with an impossible hunger.
“Just a few words,” he begins. “A few words from you and I’ll quell that ache for you. First, with my fingers.”
He rolled his hips in time with the come-hither motion of his fingers, and I gasped.
“Then, with my mouth,” he continued. “Oh, Quintessa, I’d like nothing more than to spread those legs of yours and swallow your whole.”
With a wet pop, his fingers left me feeling empty and unsatisfied and a small, exasperated groan left my lips.
Xavier brought his eyes back to mine and gripped my face in his hand, sticky with being plunged inside me moments ago.
“Then finally, I’d sink my cock into you so slowly. Inch. By. Inch.” His lips parted, twisting up at the corners into a cruel grin.
Pressing a quick kiss to the side of my mouth, Xavier whispered. “What will it be, Quinn? Can you swallow that pride of yours long enough to say pretty please?”
The words were on the tip of my tongue, and they tasted bitter. I hadn’t made a habit of showing men my weakness. I’d fought tooth and nail to show the world I was just as strong as the next guy that crossed my path. Yet with Xavier, it seemed I’d found my crux. Especially when he dropped his mouth to my exposed breast and swirled his adept tongue around my nipple.
“Please, Xavier,” I grunted, almost too quietly to hear.
“Good girl.” The words had barely left his lips when he wrapped his arm around my waist and tossed me to the floor.
Whatever monster Xavier had been working so hard to conceal broke free of its cage and set its sights solely on me. I held my breath as he ran his tongue over his fingers before reaching forward and swiping them down over my slit.
“Beautiful,” he purred. “Spread those thighs wider for me, darling.”
Shame tickled the base of my neck and I shook my head, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his waiting gaze.
“Don’t get coy on me now, Quintessa.” It was an order—his tone was like ice.
His palms braced against the inside of my thighs and carefully pushed them aside until he was face to face with my pussy. Xavier kissed lazily up the inside of one thigh before switching to the other and repeating the same assault. My hips bucked beneath his mouth and he smiled, his eyes peering over the top of my mound.
“I don’t plan on rushing this, darling,” he said. “Don’t be greedy.”
Unsure of what he wanted from me, I tried to stay still. But each time his cool breath fanned over my bare sex, I shuddered, willing him closer.
Xavier’s fingers circled around my clit, never coming into direct contact with the swollen bundle of nerves.
“Fuck,” I hissed, realising there was no way I was going to last much longer. How on earth had this man managed to bring me to the brink without barely touching me?
“Such a filthy mouth for something that smells so sweet,” he cooed before pushing his face against my soft flesh and drawing in a long, deep breath.
With a growl, his mouth opened against me—Xavier’s tongue flattened against my lips and swiped one drawn-out lick from my entrance to my clit.
Hooking his arms beneath my knees, he dragged me closer until I could only see the top of his head, the dark waves of his hair bouncing with each sordid brush of his tongue. My body trembled when he sucked my clit into his mouth and teased it with his teeth and my hands shot out for anything to hold on to. Finding his shoulder, I dug my nails into the muscle, but his actions didn’t let up. Instead, Xavier’s pace quickened, switching between sucking, nibbling and licking until my orgasm was so close I could taste copper.
He didn’t miss a beat, sliding two fingers deep inside me and thrusting rhythmically until my thighs clasped either side of his head and my vision went black. My climax enveloped me like a warm breeze, turning my rigid muscles to jelly.
“Oh God,” I panted, finally releasing my grip on Xavier’s shoulder. His picturesque face lifted, and his eyes met with mine, a frown etched on his brow.
“God?” He snapped. “It seems if you still have the strength to speak any name other than mine, I’ve not done what I promised.”
Effortlessly, Xavier’s large hands captured my waist and tossed me over his shoulder. I squealed, fear choking me. Seconds later, he tossed me onto my bed, my naked body bouncing against the springy mattress. I lifted myself up on my elbows and studied him in the darkness.
“You made quite the mess,” he said, lifting his hand to examine the remnants of my climax between his fingers.
“Do you want me to apologise?” I asked, tilting my chin up in false confidence.
Xavier chuckled, his fingers moving to undo his shirt buttons before removing his arms and folding the material neatly. He tossed it on the dresser across the room and turned his attention to his belt buckle.
“I’d like you to watch that attitude of yours,” he replied finally.
I shrugged, “I wasn’t aware I have an attitude.”
“Let’s just see how much you talk back with my cock buried inside you.”
My mouth went dry as I fought to swallow. Xavier’s suit trousers pooled at his feet, his boxers following, until he was naked at the foot of my bed. I wanted to say something witty, snap back with an equally punchy one-liner. But the sight of his thick cock, pre-cum dripping from the tip, turned me mute. His hand wrapped around his length and dragged slowly from base to head. Instinctively, my mouth began to water.
He took one step towards the bed until he set his knees atop the violet duvet. The hand he’d been pleasuring himself with left his erection as he crawled towards me, looking every inch the predator. When he towered above me, I allowed my back to fall against the bed as he pressed the tip of cock against my clit.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Quintessa,” he said.
My breath grew erratic as he used his erection to smear my juices all over my slit.
“What do you want, darling?” Xavier added, his movements never stalling.
I felt desperate, empty. I wanted to beg him to fill me, fuck me, ruin me. I needed it with every fibre of my being.
“Shy girls get nothing,” he whispered, his lips against my ear and his hand toying with my breasts.
“Fuck me, Xavier,” I spat, relief swelling in my chest when the words I’d been thinking this whole time finally left my lips.
Xavier smirked, positioning his cock at my entrance before speaking again. “With pleasure, darling.”
A coarse scream, animalistic and sudden, hit off the walls of my bedroom when he pushed inside me. It had been a while—too long, and adjusting to his size was bordering on painful.
“Relax,” Xavier soothed, his hand trailing down the valley of my breasts, over my rounded stomach, until his thumb reached my clit. The last orgasm had been powerful enough to leave me feeling overly sensitive, but Xavier seemed to recognise that. Gently, his thumb moved clockwise, teasing the bud just enough that when he eased inside me a little more, it felt incredible.
My hands fisted in the bed covers, my eyes fluttering shut as he developed a cautious rhythm. Rolling his hips in time with the soothing circles his thumb was making against my clit.
“You look exquisite,” he spoke, but it sounded so far away I could barely hear him. I was so consumed with the feeling of him stretching my walls, filling me, that I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.
He pulled out almost completely, just to slam back in to the hilt seconds later. When his thumb left my clit, he began grinding his pelvis against me instead, while his palms reached beneath my ass and tilted me to meet him. Stars started to form at the corners of my eyes. Another orgasm was dangerously close. Just when I thought I was about to combust, Xavier shifted one leg over his shoulde
rs and latched his mouth to mine. Lips clashed in a feverish kiss that sent me spinning, his tongue lapping at mine as he swallowed my moans of pleasure hungrily.
Before I had a chance to warn him, my pussy gripped onto his cock, and I erupted around him. Xavier didn’t slow. He continued to ram into my throbbing core with the tenacity of a feral animal until he pulled out and sent spurts of cum across my belly and breasts. His gorgeous face was twisted into the most ethereal look of pleasure and when I moved to run my finger through the sticky fluid pooling in my belly button and brought it to my lips, he grinned triumphantly. Just when I thought I’d got the upper hand and ended this battle of wills, he moved from atop me and set himself between my legs once again.
Just before he began to devour me, he said huskily, “This time, I want to hear you scream my name.”
Chapter Sixteen
Everything ached. From the tips of my toes to the base of my skull. Yet as I lay in my empty bed staring up at the ceiling, I regretted nothing. Nada. Not a thing.
I wasn’t in the business of regretting my poor choices at the best of times, but time around I was confident because, however great it was—there was no chance in hell it was happening again. I’d let my guard down enough with Xavier, and the last thing I needed to do was advertise myself as any more of an open book. Xavier had clearly chosen to either leave my flat entirely, or sleep on the sofa in the living room… if he did, indeed sleep. Who knew with these vampires? I didn’t.
I all but crawled my way into the bathroom and switched on the shower to the hottest possible temperature. When I caught sight of my naked form in the mirror, I shuddered. OK, so maybe there was just one teeny tiny thing I regretted, and that was letting Xavier Sallow see my scars. Knowing he had something equally horrific himself softened the blow a little, but it wasn’t enough to halt the raging thunderstorm going on inside my stomach that made me want to puke. A man having scars never seems to be as big a deal as a woman with scars. For a lot of guys, it’s just a way for them to showcase how tough they are or that they have some interesting story to tell. In my opinion, at least. There’s something sad about the scars of a woman, something haunting. It’s difficult to have as much of a sympathetic eye when you see a lovely looking woman whose physical appearance is marred by grotesque, lumpy scar tissue, and skin grafts. Maybe that was just my problem, though. My own distorted sense of self.
I tore my gaze away from the reflection in the mirror and climbed into the shower, being careful not to slip in the bathtub since my legs were still trembling from last night’s poor decisions. The water felt incredible and for once, my temperamental shower maintained its pressure and temperature just long enough to let me relax. The amount of time I spent combing conditioner through my hair with my fingers and rubbing some jasmine scented body wash across my shoulders had absolutely nothing to do with the fact I didn’t want to face Xavier. For all I knew, he was long gone. He'd done a runner, as Thatcher would say.
Still though, I took my sweet time and savoured every moment of peace and quiet before finally; the water turned freezing cold and I made a dash for my towel. With my teeth brushed and hair somewhat braided across one shoulder, I wrapped the towel around me a little tighter and walked out into my bedroom.
Only to find Xavier staring right back at me from the corner of my bed. He looked tremendous, and that was not a word I used often to describe a member of the opposite sex. His dark hair was left unstyled, and the ends had curled. It gave him an unusual boyish appearance. Especially as he pushed it back from his face, which looked far paler in the dull morning light.
“I found something,” he stated abruptly in a serious tone of voice that didn’t match his steely blue eyes as they roamed up my bare legs.
I cleared my throat, still holding onto the towel for dear life. “Good morning to you too?”
“I spent the rest of the night going through the logs. There’s a good chance I know what the Silver’s are up to.”
“Here I was thinking you’d merely had your fill and deserted me in my state of emotional dependence.” It seemed Xavier still hadn’t got used to my sense of humour, as a mixture of concern and confusion flashed across his features. “I’m kidding.”
“Can you get dressed, please?” Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing tightly before he looked away from me. An ache built up in my chest—I’d been so busy trying not to focus on my feelings about last night’s events that I hadn’t considered that Xavier might be the one harbouring a sense of regret.
“Fine,” I huffed, squaring my shoulders and walking over to my modest chest of drawers. “Get out, please.”
I hastily rummaged through my clothing, hoping that Xavier would just get up and go, leave me in peace. If he regretted last night, that was fine. I wasn’t looking to have my hand held and my worries soothed, even if some microscopic part of my brain was telling me otherwise.
Just as I reached forward to pluck a plain black t-shirt from my drawers, I felt Xavier’s icy hands grasp my bare shoulders and pull me back.
“I can’t concentrate on saving anyone with nothing between me and your cunt but a thin towel,” he whispered hoarsely in my ear as my eyes slipped closed. My weight fell back against him while his hands pulled the towel out of my hold.
I didn’t fight him when his palm ghosted up my spine, gently pushing me forward until my breasts were pressed against the satin painted wood and my ass was against the hard bulge in his suit trousers. His adept fingers moved to part my folds, dipping inside me for a split second to make sure I was ready for what was to come. Warmth pooled between my legs, and I let out a whine when he slipped further up to rub circles against my throbbing clit.
The sound of his descending zipper filled the room before he lined himself up at my entrance.
“We have shit to take care of,” he breathed, edging himself inside inch by inch until I was filled to the brim with his cock. I braced my open hands on the top of the dresser, my body leaning against him and pushing him deeper inside me until I was mewling with pleasure.
“Stop talking then,” I grunted, and I felt his body shudder with silent laughter.
“What would you prefer I do, love?” Xavier stilled inside me, his hands tightening on the round of my hips to keep me from moving.
“Fuck me,” I muttered, my body begging for release already. “Don’t make me ask again.”
Xavier didn’t need any instruction—he knew what he was doing and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he was doing it with a fucking smirk.
Asshole.
It was safe to say Xavier Sallow had ruined me and when I walked into Omen at his side, I felt like every single person in the club knew it. And it was a hell of a lot of people. I counted ten, maybe fifteen, before I grew tired of examining each of their awaiting expressions. It was like walking into an army base, an entire squadron waiting for their orders. Xavier handled it beautifully, with the authority of a damn God, but that wasn’t a surprise. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes when he paused in front of them all with his arms folded, demanding attention.
“I’m sure Mariella already filled you in on our little situation with the Silver’s,” he announced with exasperation. Knowing I was in for another of his ‘I’m in charge speeches’, I pulled a chair from atop one table and plonked myself down in it. Xavier shot me a sideways glance as I put my feet up on the table and settled in for the show. A look of irritation or impatience dominated his features, and I merely smiled.
“We visited Seamus yesterday,” Xavier began, lighting a flurry of hushed whispers amongst the group of misfits huddled around him. He lifted his hand to silence them, and they did as they were told instantly before Xavier continued. “He gave me the logs for the gates. I spent the entire night going through them-”
Mariella snorted a laugh before covering her mouth with her hand. “Not the entire night.”
Xavier raised a dark eyebrow at her before he went on, “the only demon
I found that likes to keep a collection of minions on hand, was Lilith. There’s a record of her coming in, but none of her leaving. As far as I could tell, she’s been here for years. Undetected.”
Eyes widened, gasps sounded—there was a sudden pulse of surprise throughout the number of men and women standing before Xavier. As I’d expected, none of this meant anything to me, but it certainly seemed to mean a lot to this band of weirdos, and that made me nervous. Very nervous. Enough so that I dropped my feet to the floor and leaned forward, perching my elbows on my knees to listen to whatever else Xavier had to say.
“What would she want with a bunch of vamps?” Mariella asked with a frown. I should’ve known she’d be the first to speak up. It seemed to be in her nature.
“That, I don’t know.” Xavier paused, thinking for a second. “All I know is that the Silver’s want power, and she has it. There must be something in it for her, too.”
“What’s the plan, boss?” This time, it was the doorman that spoke. I’d never caught his name, but he was large—burly, bigger than Xavier. He looked as though he spent most of his time in the gym, but his eyes told of something darker. It seemed to me he was the guy you called to rip someone apart. I watched as he folded his thick muscled arms over himself and broadened his shoulders, as though preparing for Xavier to tell him where to go and what to do that very second. I could resonate with that need for a plan. These last few weeks had felt far too chaotic—I needed to get some control back. I guess that was something me and the doorman had in common.
“Our focus right now is to gather as many of us as we can, get groups out onto the streets. We wait, watch. If anything comes up on our radar, we see to it then. If it is Lilith we’re dealing with, I’m not itching to come face to face with her until we have more information on what she’s up to.” Xavier’s air of calm seemed to help the intensity of the conversation and I could see at least a few of those gathered around him relax.