DEPRAVED

by J, Bella

  With a touch of his hand on my shoulder, my body shuddered. “Back to your room. Now.”

  For a moment, it felt like I had a demon stuck inside me, desperate to get out. So I reacted—bravely, yet foolishly, it seemed.

  As I spun around, I lifted my hand, ready to slap some fucking humanity into the man who seemed like nothing but a giant brick wall. But he saw it coming, grabbing my wrist, pushing my arm away from his face. To be honest, I was giving it all I had by pressing back, while he wasn’t even trying.

  I bit my lip while staring up at him, and all he gave me was a half-grin. Green eyes beamed with amusement, yet his features remained hard, unreadable. Unlike Neon and Onyx, Granite gave me nothing—no pieces to put together in order to get a picture of the man he really was. Nothing about him was transparent or predictable. And I had a feeling no matter how hard he kept me—as Neon put it—Granite was an enigma I would never be able to figure out.

  It only took two encounters with Neon, and I already knew she was a misfit hiding behind the safety of pretending to be a hard-ass. And both times she had shown me kindness.

  Onyx was the young man constantly living in his big brother’s shadow. It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t your normal sibling rivalry. It was something different. Onyx seemed so…trapped. Maybe he craved freedom…like me.

  But Granite? I had nothing. No pieces. No puzzle. No way to figure him out.

  Granite brought my arm down, his fingers clasped tightly around my wrist. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. It was all there in his eyes.

  Anger.

  Fury.

  Disappointment.

  His glare cut over my shoulder toward Onyx. Jealousy…?

  “I said go to your room,” he gritted out, his jaw clenched while still looking straight at Onyx. The atmosphere was excruciating. Downright toxic. It was like a goddamn choking hazard.

  I didn’t mean to hesitate. Honestly, I didn’t know what the hell to do with Granite towering over me like a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound threat. But I did hesitate. I didn’t move…until Granite grabbed me with one arm wrapping around my waist, hoisting me up and over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. One arm. Just one fucking arm, and I was carried off down the hall.

  “Yo, Granite. What’s going on?”

  Some bald guy stepped aside as we passed him in the hall with me still over Granite’s shoulder. Granite didn’t even look his way. He stomped down the hall like he was waiting for hellhounds to start gnawing at his fucking ankles.

  “Put me down!” My fists slammed into his back, but it was no use. My strength was no match for his.

  Granite walked into the room and slammed the door closed before finally putting me down. When my feet hit the floor, I rushed to the other side of the room, panic and anger reaching the boiling point inside me.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I bit out.

  “You danced for him.”

  I balked. “What?”

  He took a step forward. “You danced for my brother.” The words left his mouth with a snarl, the hard tone of hostility poisoning the air around us even more.

  “What? No.” I shook my head. “I didn’t dance for your brother. Well, I did. But I didn’t. Shit.”

  “I saw you dance while he watched you.”

  “Neon watched too.” I pointed to…to…well, fucking nowhere. “I wasn’t dancing for Onyx. I was trying to prove a point.”

  He took another step closer, his face nothing but stone. “And what point is that? That you can dance? That you can bend your fucking body and split your legs wide open?”

  “Good God.” I pulled my hands through my hair. “That’s not what I was doing. I was just…” I stilled. “Wait. What does it matter?”

  Granite didn’t move, and his expression still gave me nothing.

  I moved closer, just a little. “What does it matter, Granite? So what if I danced for your brother?” Curiosity got the better of me. It was stronger than fear. There was a reason curiosity killed the cat.

  Granite rubbed his palm across his beard, his lips pulled in a straight line.

  Of course, being the curious cat, I had to push just a little further. “Do not tell me you’re jealous.”

  Stupid curious cat.

  Like a giant wrecking ball, Granite launched at me, my back hitting the wall as he grabbed my neck, wrapping his fingers around my throat.

  “You’re fucking with the wrong man, Alyx.”

  “I’m not fucking with anyone.”

  His green-eyed gaze searched my face, nothing but disdain and displeasure in the depths of his eyes. “You need to start behaving.”

  “And you need to let me go. You can’t do this.”

  He took another step, and I found it increasingly difficult to draw a decent breath.

  Granite leaned closer, and I clearly saw every hard line on his face. “This is my world, ballerina girl. Here, I do whatever the fuck I want.”

  “Not with my life, you don’t. I’m not one of your fucking club members, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for you kidnap me.”

  “Keep on lying to yourself.”

  “Just because we made eye contact a few times doesn’t give you the right to kidnap me.”

  He bit his lower lip. “I don’t see it as kidnapping. More like a forced intervention.”

  “You’re a depraved fucking man, Granite.”

  His grip tightened. “Yet you still want me.”

  “Now who’s lying to himself?”

  “Am I?” His nostrils flared, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he tipped his head to the side. “Did you not watch me? Think about me?” I let out a breath when his finger brushed across my lips. “Did you not wonder what it would be like to be with me? To ride on the back of my motorcycle with your arms wrapped tightly around me?”

  I swallowed hard.

  His gaze followed the movement of his fingers. “Can you tell me you never once thought about me…in your bedroom,” he leaned closer, his warm breath dancing across the skin of my neck, “in your bed…fucking you?”

  “Jesus, Granite,” I breathed. My body felt drained of all its strength. Suddenly, there was nothing but a throbbing ache between my legs, something I had no business feeling.

  Abruptly, his fingers gripped my jaw, digging into my flesh. “Tell me you never once looked at me from that motherfucking window, your panties soaked with the thought of me touching you.”

  “Stop.”

  He pressed harder, puckering up my lips as his grip tightened. “Tell me you never touched yourself, made yourself come thinking about me fucking you raw.”

  I clenched my teeth, heart racing and palms sweating. “You’re disgusting, you know that?”

  A smirk crept up at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, that’s right. That pussy of yours is still untouched. It’s still all tight and intact.”

  My eyes widened. “How the hell do you—”

  “I told you, there’s nothing about you I don’t know.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over my lips, and I shivered. “I’ve always been there hiding in the shadows, making sure no man touches what’s mine. And that’s exactly what you are. Mine.” He brought his lips closer to mine. “Ever wonder why your jock boyfriend ended up with a broken leg, never returning to claim what you were so willing to give him? Or why no other guy attempted to come near you? To touch you?”

  Jesus Christ. “It was you?”

  “You thought it was daddy, didn’t you?”

  “You crazy son of a bitch.”

  “I won’t argue that.”

  “You’re fucking insane.”

  He shrugged. “I won’t argue that either.”

  “You had no fucking right to interfere with my life. No fucking right!” With every ounce of strength, I tried to push him away from me, but he didn’t even move an inch.

  His hand moved from my jaw to the back of my neck. “You see, Alyx, you were mine the moment our eyes met for the first time, you
staring down at me from your window. You know it. I know it. And we’ve known it for a very long time.”

  “You’re delusional,” I bit out, my stomach swirling with equal parts desire and fear.

  With his hand gripping my neck, I became hyperaware of his touch. His smell. His heat. His presence. Being so close demanded all my senses to tune into him—and only him. The world around us disappeared, and in that moment, he was everything. Nothing else existed.

  His body was inches from mine, the air around us suddenly laden with what felt like raw sexual tension, strong enough to make me succumb. It penetrated every bone in my body. The desire. The need. The fear of being consumed by him. I had never felt so conflicted in my life. My fear of him was real; his actions made sure of that. But the desire I had for him all this time felt a hundred times stronger, as if the fear intensified it, making it impossible to ignore.

  His fingers weaved through my hair right before clutching tight, pulling my head back and lifting my chin toward him, earning a gasp from my lips.

  “You see, Alyx, I’ve owned you long before I took you, and that is why you dancing for my brother fucking matters.”

  Between him and the wall, I felt small and insignificant, like he could crush me with his fucking boot if he wanted to. As his face came within inches of mine, I smelled his familiar scent. Sandalwood—an earthy scent with a hint of soap. It was the smell of my undoing.

  Even though my heart was about to break out of my chest, I couldn’t look away. It was impossible for me to not look at him, to not think of all those nights I used to watch him getting off his bike, roughing his hands through his untamed curls, demanding all my attention without even trying. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did silently beg for him to take me this way. Maybe there was a part of me that wanted him to be this cruel, dangerous man who didn’t think twice without taking what was his. His life was such a huge contradiction to mine, and maybe I craved it. With all the perfection and discipline in my life, maybe I craved the chaos of his. But that didn’t mean I would stop fighting, even if it was only for my own sanity. To prove to myself that I wasn’t as depraved as he was.

  I reached to the back of my neck, trying to pull his fingers from my hair. I dug my nails so deep into his flesh, I was sure I drew blood. But he didn’t even flinch.

  “Let go of me.”

  The smirk on his face was a giant “no.”

  “I said let go of me.”

  His grip on my hair only grew tighter, his body moving closer to mine. But I was determined to fight him, to prove to him I wasn’t one of his fucking club minions, and he sure as fuck wasn’t my king.

  I started thrashing against him, pushing and punching at him. Unshed tears stung my eyes, desperation starting to weep from my body. I wanted to get away from him. I wanted to get away from all of them.

  I lost control. It was too much.

  With every ounce of strength I had in me, I launched my fists at his face. But I was too weak, too small for the likes of him. I grabbed at his shirt, wanting to tear it to shreds. “You. Don’t. Own. Me!”

  The words burned my tongue, but then his lips incinerated mine, kissing me. He forced me closer, his hand at the back of my neck pulling me to him. Hard, demanding, and merciless, Granite kissed me in a way that compelled me to allow it.

  My arms flailed as a last lame-ass attempt to fight him, but his kiss weakened me. With every second his warm lips remained on mine, my strength dissipated. His kiss wasn’t anything like I imagined it would be. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined it being this powerful, as if steeped in desire and passion, igniting a fire that raged between us.

  He tightened his hold around me, crushing my body against his, his big frame enveloping me. The earthy scent of him was intoxicating while the taste of his mouth against mine wrecked me. The bristles of his beard felt hard and rough against my skin, but it didn’t stop me from hungrily pushing back, wanting more. His tongue didn’t ask. It didn’t beg or coax. It demanded. It claimed what he wanted, and there was nothing left in me to fight with. His kiss took it all, and my body betrayed me with a primal desire that lived in us all. It wanted more and more with every passing second, instantly addicted to the rush of tasting him, feeling him, as if he had only become real the second our lips touched.

  My mind scattered into a million directions at once while my body was set aflame. All it took to disarm me, to ruin and possess me, was one simple yet demanding kiss from the devil himself.

  15

  Granite

  She needed to shut up.

  She needed to stop fighting.

  And I needed to tongue-fuck her mouth in order to accomplish that.

  No matter how hard she tried to deny it, she knew she was mine even before I took her. I owned her since the first time our eyes met. She had been my obsession for years, and the taste of her on my tongue solidified it.

  Crushing her tiny body against mine felt good. It felt fucking right. And by the way her fight left her while my tongue claimed every corner of her mouth, I knew she felt the same. There was no denying it. The entire fucking world disappeared the second I crashed my lips against hers. In that moment, there was nothing but her and me, and the chaos of our kiss. Our tongues battled with desperation to have more, to taste more of each other, and my thoughts rushed to the part where I could finally claim her body and corrupt her innocence.

  I knew my ballerina girl was still a virgin. I made fucking sure of it. Every guy in town was too scared to touch her because of me—because I had staked my claim over her years ago without her even knowing. I had to. The thought of another man touching her, fucking her, it drove me mad. There wasn’t a chance in hell I’d have let some random guy take what was mine. That jock could be glad I spared his life and left his dick intact.

  I pulled her closer, pressing her hard against me. My cock ached and begged to break through the barrier of her virginity. I wanted the crimson of her innocence to coat my dick while I fucked her, marking my ownership on her goddamn soul. This was so much more than just being horny. This was more than fucking for a ten-second orgasm. This was about finally taking what I’d deemed mine for so long. This was about sating my obsession after all those nights longing to be buried between her legs.

  My tongue lapped against hers, her sweet taste exploding in my mouth, the ripples of lust traveling down my spine and crashing against my aching cock. After years of wondering what she tasted like, I finally knew it was better than I ever could have imagined. Decadent and sweet, her lips instantly became my new addiction. At that moment, I knew nothing would ever be able to compare, and I wanted to savor it forever.

  I slipped my hand down her back, cupping her ass, pushing her body harder against mine as I gave a thrust, desperate to relieve the ache. She moaned, the sound making me want to turn into a motherfucking savage and devour her.

  Images of her naked body, spreading those legs like the perfect ballerina she was, had my body in knots—painfully craving to feel her from the inside.

  She reached up, grabbing my hair while she pulled me down, forcing me to kiss her harder. Permission. That was what she gave me by kissing me back with equal vigor. Permission to take her. Permission to make her mine.

  God, I was losing myself. I was losing myself to the lust, to the need, to the years of desiring her, yet unable to claim her. But, finally, she was here with me. Even if she didn’t want to be, I didn’t give a shit. The selfish prick in me didn’t give a flying fuck. Feeling her, tasting her, having her this close was fucking with both my head and my cock.

  The longer I claimed her soft lips, the more I allowed myself to be consumed by it. My hands roughed up her body, underneath her shirt, desperate to explore. But as I flattened my palm against her belly, she pushed back.

  I was so fucking lost in the moment I never saw it coming…not until I felt the burn against my cheek.

  Alyx looked up at me, her eyes wide in shock while she held her hand in the other. I bet her
palm stung just as much as my cheek did.

  She retreated, taking a slow step back. “You had no right to do that.”

  I rubbed my cheek. “Yet you kissed me back.”

  “You caught me off guard.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes.” She moved back some more. “If you think I’m one of those women who gets turned on by being kidnapped, you’re fucking wrong. I’m not the Stockholm Syndrome type.”

  Jesus. I had to laugh. Her smart mouth was starting to amuse me.

  With a smile, I stepped forward. “First of all, you kissed me back.”

  “You took me—”

  “Shut up.”

  Amazingly, she zipped her lip.

  “Second of all, I’m well aware you’re not the Stockholm Syndrome type. Otherwise, you would have fucked my brother already since he’s been real nice to you…hasn’t he?”

  “That’s not—”

  “I said shut up.” I pressed forward while she kept moving back, the look on her face similar to that of prey knowing it was only a matter of time before she got blocked in a corner with nowhere to go. The perfect, most beautiful, innocent little prey.

  I tilted my head, scrutinizing her. “Now, since we’re on the topic of my little brother, that brings me to my third point.” Another step. “Stay away from him.”

  “You can’t—”

  “It’s simple, Alyx.” Her back hit the wall, and I stepped right up to her, leaving nothing but a few breaths of space between us. “Stay. Away. From my brother.”

  Our eyes remained locked. I was looking down, and she was looking up, our bodies so close I could feel the warmth emanate from her.

  “And lastly…” My hand dropped, and my fingers gently brushed against her inner thigh. Her eyes became hooded, her lips slightly parted as my touch traveled upward. “Stop fighting me. You will lose.” My fingers eased up some more, her cheeks all pretty and flushed. “Next time you welcome my tongue in your mouth, you better be sure you’re ready to welcome me between your legs.” With a gentle slide of my finger, I touched her pussy, and it earned me a subtle whimper from her tempting lips. I leaned down closer, so close I felt her warm breath against my skin. “Next time, I won’t be walking away without making you bleed for me, ballerina girl. Remember that.”