Edge of Obsession (SKALS #3)

by Noir, Adriana

  “I didn’t tell you to move,” he growled.

  His strong hands jerked her hips back and upward with a force that spoke of his displeasure. A breathless scream tore from her throat when he filled her body with a single, claiming thrust. The feel of his hard, hot length stretching her to the brink was nothing short of ecstasy. Her hold on the desk tightened as Sebastian drove into her with a primal snarl of ownership. The harsh slap of skin filled the room. He stabbed into her time and again, his rhythm slow, hard, and deliberate. It didn’t take long for pulsing waves of pleasure to build in her core. She whimpered, hips arching to meet his. Release hit hard and fast. She cried out as she came, her body clamping with enough force to rob her of both wind and sanity. Sebastian stiffened above her, and she knew whatever control he had was lost. A frustrated growl rumbled through his chest as one hand locked on her hipbone. The other anchored in her hair, giving him a sure but steady hold as he propped a foot beside her and pounded his way to climax.

  His breathless cry was music to her ears.

  Easing her off the desk, he spun her around and wrapped her in his arms, holding her upright. Her body still pulsed and sang. Being with Sebastian was like breaching the surface and gasping for air after being under water for too long: delirious, dizzying, and almost frantic—she could never get enough. He was both aphrodisiac and addiction, a craving with no cure.

  Without a word, Sebastian lifted Taylor into his arms and carried her to his chair where he cradled her in his lap. His hands rubbed soothing circles against her back, easing the chill and coaxing her back down.

  After a few minutes, she managed to find her voice. “What the fuck was that?” she asked.

  Sebastian tapped her lip with his forefinger. “Language, baby,” he warned. “That was a birthday spanking, and perhaps you finding a bit of yourself as well. Maybe a part you never even knew existed.”

  “Great,” she muttered. “Not only am I another year older, but now I discover I’m a freak who gets off on getting spanked.”

  His body shook with silent laughter. “Taylor, Taylor.” Tipping her chin, he searched her eyes. “It wasn’t meant to hurt you, darling. You were supposed to enjoy it. I certainly did.”

  She pushed a wry exhale through her nose. “Wonderful. We’re both screwed up.”

  He seemed to ponder that for a long moment. Sighing, he wrapped his arms a little tighter, ensconcing her in his powerful embrace. “Maybe we are. Or maybe we’re just different. That part of you has always been there, Taylor. I sensed it the first day I met you. Part of you craves control and structure. Maybe because you’ve never had it before. Some secret part of you even enjoys pain in small doses—like when I twist those delectable nipples of yours. You’re submissive by nature. It might make you different, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. There is strength in surrender.”

  She weighed his words, her face puckering with a doubtful twist.

  “Don’t question yourself. You’re perfect just the way you are,” he murmured. “You are always wondering what it is you offer me. It’s you, Taylor. All of you. You’re everything to me. There is nothing else in this world I need or want more.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head. Blowing out a loud breath, he patted the outside of her thigh and urged her off his lap. “Let’s get this party over with. My patience is wearing thin. I’m trying to be nice, but I want you all to myself again.”

  Giving a playful roll of her eyes, she shook her head. After slipping her clothes back on, she chanced a peek over her shoulder. “Sebby?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you think we could forget the belt and go with your hand as punishment instead?”

  His laughter was unexpected. Arching a brow, he responded with much firmer swat to her ass. She yelped and rubbed a hand across her denim pocket, trying to ease the sting.

  “I don’t reward bad behavior, darling. All that does is encourage it.” His smile faded, darkening with his thoughts, and he raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t negotiate, Taylor, but we will see. I’m not making any promises,” he said tracing the delicate curve of her jaw. “As you know, I have more than one way of proving my displeasure and getting my point across when that need arises. Be careful what you ask for, sweetheart.”

  She felt her face pale slightly, suddenly unsure of the wisdom in her request.

  “Yes, Sebastian,” she agreed, lowering her lashes. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby. Happy birthday.”

  CHAPTER 5 ~

  Sebastian drummed his fingers on his desk, his pale stare locked on the mountain of paperwork piled on the corner of his desk. He scowled, his mood souring even more. Despite the luxurious décor of his office, it was still sterile and cold. The building itself flooded him with instant hatred and rage, the moment he stepped through headquarter doors. Part of that was his conditioning. The other was so much more. It was leaving Taylor and the comfortable haven of their bed. It was coming to work and knowing what had to be done. His muscles ached with unspent tension, his thoughts forever turning to Marx and the lack of trust the Laychee incident had incited between them.

  Things would never be the same. His entire outlook had been shattered. He could no longer trust anyone, not even his team, and that was a very dangerous place for someone in his position.

  A curt knock shattered his thoughts. Pinching his sinuses, he sighed and dropped against the back of his chair, struggling to keep his annoyance under control.

  “Yeah?” he barked.

  The anterior door swung open, revealing a tense looking guard. For the life of him, Sebastian couldn’t remember the man’s name. The only purpose he served was to keep other people out. Expression hardening, he pinned the man with a look of silent expectance.

  “Vincent Pellagreeni is requesting to see you, sir.”

  “Send him in,” Sebastian ordered, standing. He remained rooted behind his desk, watching as his teammate surged into the room.

  “It’s great to have you back, sir,” Vince exclaimed. His face flushed with his bright smile.

  Sebastian nodded, his gaze dropping to the wad clutched in the other man’s hands. His cheeks tightened and the muscles beneath his eye twitched as he regarded the black cloth bundle. Tensing, his hand crept toward the pistol holstered against his hip. Either ignoring his reservations or blissfully unaware of them, Vincent snapped the shirt open. A lopsided grin stretched his bronzed features as he held it up.

  “Check it out, Baas. We made up a bunch of them to celebrate your return.”

  Relaxing some, Sebastian took in the bold lettering.

  Think you’re having a bad day? Go see Dominic.

  He shook his head and looked away. Just seeing the traitor’s name flooded him with an instantaneous bloodlust that made Cujo’s seem benign in comparison.

  “Do you like it, sir?” Vince asked. “We thought you would appreciate the humor.”

  The technician took an uncertain step back, paling, as Sebastian rounded the desk with narrowed eyes and a questioning tilt of his head.

  “That man betrayed this organization and his team. He damn near killed me and helped facilitate the unspeakable things Laychee and his men did to Taylor and I am supposed to find the situation funny?”

  Vince retreated another step upon hearing the soft, civil tone. “No, sir. Not the situation. Just the shirt.” Uncertainty flickered across his classically handsome features.

  “The shirt,” Sebastian repeated with a stiff nod.

  He sprung without warning. A startled gasp left his teammate, followed by a pained grunt as Vince’s back collided with the wall. Sebastian’s white-knuckled grip tightened, twisting the other man’s collar until his face flushed a dangerous purple.

  “I don’t care what your intentions were. I don’t appreciate you making light of the situation. The next time I hear any of you joke about Dominic Chase or his actions, I will rip your fucking throat out and you will join him in that room. Do I make myself clear
?”

  “Yes, sir,” the other man choked.

  “Baas?”

  He shot his partner a cursory glance as he filled the doorway then returned his attention to Vince. The technician offered a mute nod, his dark hazel eyes flared and pleading. Releasing him with a shove, Sebastian tore the shirt from his hands and stormed out of the room. His partner’s voice echoed in the hall behind him as both men scrambled in his wake.

  “What the hell did you do to him?” Josh snapped.

  “I didn’t do anything!”

  “You just had to poke him with a stick. You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? I told you not to make those fucking shirts!”

  Blocking the bickering out, he stalked through the corridors in long, determined strides until he reached the cell where Dominic was sequestered. Josh grabbed for his arm, trying to reach for him, but he’d already punched in the combination.

  “Baas, wait! What are you going to do?”

  The smell hit him first, the putrid stench enough to drown out the words and world behind him. A tight grimace contorted his face, and he choked back a gag, his eyes swinging to the man shackled in the middle of the room. Burn blisters and open wounds oozed with raging infection. Little of the Dominic he knew remained. Only his eyes were recognizable, and even those had all but vanished behind the swelling and shift of displaced bones. Seeing the traitor broken and afraid was enough to wrest a cruel smile from Sebastian’s stony countenance, but it wasn’t enough to erase the man’s sins.

  “I see my men have been treating you well, Dominic.” His voice was soft and conversational, almost soothing in its cadence.

  The man muttered a broken curse, his body flattening in a cringe against the back of his chair. Sebastian smirked.

  “Baas…please…” the words were muffled, almost incoherent as they tumbled past split and swollen lips.

  “It’s a beautiful thing hearing you beg, Agent Chase. I’m glad to see your memory hasn’t failed you as much as your wisdom. Do you know what the funny thing is about hate?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of his former teammate. “It never falters. Even in someone’s absence. It’s a toxic poison that keeps seeping under your skin. No matter how hard you scrub, you can never can’t get rid of it.”

  Dominic cowered in his seat as Sebastian steeled his jaw and pulled his knife free. The wicked steel blade glinted beneath the solitary overhead light in a menacing flash.

  “I’m sorry…so sorry…not my fault Baas…listen to me.”

  The pleas came in a fragmented and broken stream. Leaning over him, Sebastian gripped the back of the chair with a damning shake of his head. “I’m not interested in your excuses,” he stated. “Only in hearing you scream.”

  Slamming his hand down, he buried the knife between Dominic’s legs, pinning the man to his seat. The room echoed with his teammate’s earsplitting wails. Bloody mucus shot past his nose and lips as Dominic screamed and bucked against his chair so hard it tipped. Sebastian righted the man with a cold smile.

  “You knew you had this coming. Was it worth it?” he whispered, stroking the side of Dominc’s head with mock affection. “Was it worth betraying me and your team? Was it worth going after the woman I love?”

  His teammate’s negative simper turned to a deafening scream as Sebastian twisted the knife and yanked his blade free. “As fun as this has been, it’s not nearly gratifying enough. No, there is only one thing I truly want from you, Dominic.”

  Steeling his jaw, Sebastian wrenched his pistol free and leveled it at the man’s face. A brief twinge of satisfaction flooded him as the thunderous boom of his Desert Eagle reverberated off concrete and through his skull. Closing his eyes, he relished the warm, telltale mist that splattered his skin. Josh exploded in a flurry of curses behind him. Eyes wide and fearful, his partner flattened against the wall with his hands splayed as he pushed past.

  Stopping in the hall, Sebastian wiped his face and tossed the bloody shirt at Vince. The gunshot brought personnel running, and a small crowd was already starting to gather in the grim, grey corridor. Lifting his chin, he regarded them with squared shoulders.

  “This is the last act of mercy you will see from me. Cross me or come near my family again and you won’t find yourselves as fortunate,” he warned.

  Stunned whispers followed on his heels as he strode toward his office, leaving his team to ponder his words. Josh jogged behind him, his breath coming in quiet pants as he begged Sebastian to wait. Once inside the private chambers, his partner slammed the doors shut and sagged against them, his expression wild and bewildered.

  “What the fuck was that? Have you lost your ever loving mind?”

  Sebastian set his pistol down, poured himself a drink, and took a seat behind his desk before lifting his gaze. “I believe I made my reasons perfectly clear,” he said, swirling the amaretto whiskey in his glass.

  Josh gaped at him in disbelief. “Are you trying to get us both killed?”

  His shoulders jerked in a humorless huff and he downed his drink. Setting the thick tumbler on his desk, Sebastian stood. “No, Josh. Believe it or not, I am trying to save us.”

  “And just how in the hell do you figure that? Marx is going to have a fucking field day with this one, Baas, and you know it!”

  “Marx…right,” he repeated as he made his way over to the window gracing the right side of the room. “I did what needed done. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it elsewhere. Let me deal with Marx as I see fit.”

  Josh flung his arms open in helpless display. “And how are you gonna do that? Huh? You just gonna walk in there and shoot him too, Baas? What do you think will happen to you then? Hell, how are you going to do anything when you’re locked down in a reconditioning cell? If you have a plan for that one, I’d really love to hear it.”

  “My plans are not your concern. Send Agent Pellagreeni in on your way out.”

  He tensed at the sound of shattering glass behind him. Turning, he took in the broken remains of the framed diploma Josh had batted off the wall. Blue clashed with green. Shooting him a look of disgust, his partner flung the door open and slammed it behind him with enough force to rattle the room.

  Sebastian’s shoulders dropped. The rift was upsetting, but there was nothing he could do. Not yet. Sometimes in order to truly save someone, you had to let them go. His thoughts spun to Taylor and his heart wrenched as he prayed it never came down to that with her. Losing his partner, even losing his career he could handle. But Taylor…Taylor was everything.

  A loud knock announced Vincent’s arrival. Calling the other man in, he glanced at the clock and tried to assess how much time he had before Marx came barging through the door. However long it was, it wouldn’t be long enough.

  “You requested to see me, sir?” Vince asked, doing his best to conceal the rattle of uncertainty in his voice.

  He nodded. “I did. Would you like a drink, Agent Pellagreeni?”

  “No, sir. Thank you. About what happened earlier, I—”

  “Relax,” Sebastian ordered with a forced smile. Judging from the way the other man flinched, the attempt only served to heighten his teammate’s anxiety. “We’ve worked together for a long time now, Vincent. It’s been what? Five years now? Six?”

  “Six this summer, sir.”

  “Right,” he stated. Sauntering behind his desk, he retrieved his pistol, not missing the way the other man’s eyes flared. “And in that time, there have been many changes. Not all of them have been beneficial to this team. Would you agree with that assessment?”

  The other man’s terrified gaze remained locked on the gun in his hand. “I…uh…yes, sir. I suppose.”

  “It’s a simple question, Vincent. Yes or no.”

  “Please…”

  Sebastian cut him off with an annoyed wave of his hand. The technician winced, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Sweat beaded beneath the line of his dark blond hair and he glanced at the door, as if silently begging someon
e to come bail him out.

  Ignoring the man, Sebastian continued: “Two team members have turned in the past six months. That tells me there is a very serious issue with this organization. What concerns me even more is what happened with Laychee. Once they have someone in their sights, nothing escapes SKALS attention. I would like to know how a man we had under surveillance managed to not only slip through the cracks, but break into my home and damn near kill the woman I keep in my bed.”

  “I—I don’t know, sir. I wasn’t on duty that night. I swear.”

  “I believe you,” Sebastian said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you know where I am headed with this?”

  “I’m assuming you believe Laychee had help from someone else besides Agent Chase, sir. Someone else on the inside.”

  “Smart man,” Sebastian said with a terse smile. Setting his gun down, he took a long swill of whiskey. His eyes closed as he relished the sweet burn and released a heavy sigh. “One slight screw-up aside, you have always served me and this team well, Vincent, and despite everything that has happened lately, that is exactly what we are. We are a team. A well-oiled unit that functions together. I have done what I could to preserve those ties, and I have always aimed to protect those under me, no matter how high the cost.”

  “You have, sir,” Vincent agreed.

  “You have been angling for a promotion for quite some time. What this organization needs is change. I am going to move you out of Com-Tech and place you in Intelligence and Recon, but you are going to do something for me in exchange.”

  “Really? I mean…yes, sir. Thank you. Anything,” Vince said, the troubled lines on his forehead subsiding as gratitude replaced his fear.

  Strolling across the room, Sebastian closed in on the man. Their eyes locked when the deep boom of Marx’s voice rolled through the hall beyond his office.

  “Dominic didn’t act alone. I need to know who else was in on this. I want names. Bring me whatever information you can find. Your discretion is of vast importance in these matters, because I swear to you, when all is said and done, I will have their fucking heads on a stick. Are we clear?”