The Darkest Hour (Running with the Devil Book 1)

by Jasmin Quinn

  Dean could feel her eyes on him. Holy fuck, what did he just do? He should have let her run, let her call the cops, let her do anything to stay at arms length from him. She was totally wrong on so many levels. And yet, now that he had taken a taste, he knew he wanted more. He would never be satiated. How the hell was he going to manage this?

  Usually the regret didn’t set in so quickly, he thought. But this was different. She wasn’t a woman he wanted to fuck and never see again. He wanted to fuck her again, right now, again, and again. He wanted to wake up in the morning, knowing she was in his bed, that she would never leave, that no other man would ever touch her. He felt himself getting hard again, just thinking about her. Wanted to take her by her pretty curls and push her head down to his cock, have her take him in her mouth.

  As he lay there, he felt her shift, moving closer to him, settling her head on his chest. “I’m not really a cuddler,” she said softly. “But if you could just hold me for a little bit…” she let the words trail. Dean brought his arm down from over his head and slid it under her head and shoulders, pulling her close to him. Embracing her. He felt her settle on his shoulder as he reached up with his right hand and turned off the lamp. He felt his side throbbing at the movement, then the pain subsided. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but sometime during the night, he jerked awake. Kelsie was sound asleep, breathing evenly, her head still on his shoulder, her fingers curled into the hair on his chest. He looked down at her, somberly, feeling both tenderness and regret.

  He carefully shifted her over to her side of the bed, gently moving her head to her pillow. She let out a soft sigh, then turned on her side so that her back was to him. He pulled the covers up over them. This was not good, he thought as he drifted back to sleep. Not fucking good at all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kelsie opened her eyes gradually. She was having a dream that she didn’t want to let go of, but it evaded her as a little ray of sun stole through the crack in the curtains and drew a line across her face. She shifted onto her side so she could look at Dean who was still asleep. He was lying on his back, snoring softly, his left arm up by his head, bent at the elbow, hand upturned and resting on his forehead. She saw the fake wedding ring on his finger and almost laughed out loud as she looked down at her hand. They were fake married, for no really good reason. Not yet anyway.

  He shifted a little in his sleep, taking a deep breath and drawing her attention to his face. She studied him for a few minutes. He was in desperate need of a shave, the start of a full beard coming in fast and furious – did they buy him a razor? She couldn’t remember. The cut over his left eyebrow was healing fast; it would probably leave a small scar, a matching one to go with the scar just under and to the left of his right eye. His nose had been broken before, maybe more than once, but it was a good nose, complementing his rugged features. He had a strong chin and handsome profile. Kelsie felt her heart pick up as she gazed at his full lips, remembering how he’d kissed her the night before, on her lips, on her breasts, on her belly, on her…

  She shivered as her eyes trailed down his body, last night still fresh in her mind. The blankets were loosely draped at his hips, his left knee and part of his strong thigh exposed. His lightly-furred, well-muscled chest and stomach were a mass of bruises and scars. The dressing on his wound was hanging loose on one side.

  Kelsie frowned in concern. She wanted to stroke his chest with the palm of her hand; send the heat she was feeling in her body, flowing into his, helping him, healing him. Making him whole again. She didn’t really know him; in truth, he hardly told her anything about himself last night. All she knew was that he was a hard man from a hard world. It made him edgy and unpredictable. She wondered what motivated him to do the work he did, why he would sacrifice his own happiness for a job that would, at best, keep evil in check.

  She sat up, letting the covers drop, exposing her breasts to the morning chill, her nipples immediately hardening. She wanted him to wake up, wanted more of the night before. She thought that maybe she should be a little coy, not be bold or too needy; she wasn’t sure what her next move should be. Should she just throw herself at him, again and again, until he was out of her system? She didn’t think he’d mind if she did that. But she also knew that they had been avoiding the “talk” about what they were going to do. She knew that Dean still wasn’t in any shape to be too active, but they needed a plan. Needed to know what their next steps were. She tried to think, wished she had a coffee. Not the instant stuff by the coffee maker, but a real coffee. Full-on black.

  She slipped off the bed quietly and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door softly and locking it behind her. She relieved herself and then looked at the bathtub. It was small, worn and entirely uninviting. The faded, yellow shower curtain hung limply inside, little to recommend it, but it would do the job. Kelsie longed for her own shower, or better yet, her jetted tub.

  She sighed in regret as she turned on the shower tap, and set the temperature before stepping under the streaming hot water. The water pressure was good, the shower head not bad, and the shampoo adequate. She soaped her body all over, feeling an ache between her thighs, a slight discomfort of muscles well-used, another sweet reminder of last night.

  She washed and rinsed her hair and soaped her body, rinsed herself well, then turned off the water and stepped out of the tub. She wrapped one towel around her hair and used another towel to dry herself, then wrapped it around her breasts and tucked it in place. She looked in the mirror, wishing she had grabbed the cosmetic bag out of her suitcase so she could put on light face cream and brush her teeth. She unlocked the bathroom door and pulled it toward her.

  She let out a small cry of surprise. Dean was standing on the other side of the door frame, completely naked, his penis semi-erect, holding the bag of pretzels they’d bought the day before in one hand and eating them with his other hand. He was blocking the exit from the bathroom. Kelsie had no where to go.

  “Morning,” Dean said, swallowing a mouthful of pretzels. “How come you were showering without me?” He held out the open bag of pretzels, offering them to her.

  She shook her head and grimaced. “It’s too small – we both wouldn’t fit and it’s kind of skanky.”

  Dean put the pretzels on the counter behind him, then reached up and wiped his fingers on a corner of the towel Kelsie had on her head. He stepped forward into the bathroom, forcing her to step back. Once they were in, he reached behind him and closed the bathroom door, shutting them both inside. He looked down at her, standing inches away, the muscles in his chest rising and falling in time to his breathing. Kelsie could feel the heat rising, the growing need wetting her pussy. She didn’t want him to take her here, in this bathroom, but she also didn’t want him to not take her. She let out little breaths. She knew her pupils were dilating, her blue eyes darkening with passion.

  Then Dean said, “Could you step over to the sink for a second, outta my way. I need to pee.”

  Kelsie could feel her passion die as her anger and hurt spiked. “Why don’t I step right of the bathroom?” she snarled. “Out of your way, let you do your biz, have your shower, get your shit together.”

  His bark of laughter was short and insincere. “Cute pun, but no. I think togetherness is a good thing for a new couple. It helps build rapport.” He turned his back on her and stood over the toilet, relieving himself. When he was done, he reached down, dropped the lid and flushed. Then he turned to Kelsie, who was looking at him in utter disbelief.

  “You’re not even civilized,” she snapped at him. “What the hell is going on? Why are you suddenly holding me hostage in the bathroom?”

  “It’s not actually sudden,” Dean replied dispassionately, reaching around her and picking up a towel off the sink. “I’ve been holding you hostage since Friday night. It’s now Sunday. You’re still my captive.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Kelsie’s voice rose in concert with her frustration. “After what happened last night, you’re
still thinking of me as a hostage?”

  He looked at her appraisingly. “Which part of last night are you talking about? The part where we fucked or the part where you kneed me in the side and ran off?”

  Kelsie could feel her face redden, her emotions bubbling up in her. Don’t cry, Kelsie, she thought. Don’t you dare cry. Instead, she took a deep breath, willing herself back into control. Crossing her arms defensively, she said coldly, “Fuck you too, Dean who-ever-you are. I get it. You don’t trust me. You think that last night was about me playing games, trying to get one over on you. Thinking if I seduced you, you’d drop your guard long enough for me to get away from you.”

  Dean laughed derisively. “I think you’re a little confused about who seduced who. But to be honest, you are a good fuck, so it was worth my time and trouble.”

  “Fuck you,” Kelsie snarled hiding her hurt behind anger. “You had me, you still have me, even if you are an asshole.”

  He stared at her, his expression impassive. “Why don’t you sit on the toilet while I shower. Then when I’m done we can discuss my trust issues at length.” He gripped her shoulders and turned her around leading her to the toilet and forcing her to sit. “Don’t move,” he warned her.

  Kelsie did as she was told, sitting on the toilet, in her towel, stewing. What the fuck was wrong with him? And what the fuck was wrong with her using “fuck” so much. He was brainwashing her, she thought. He had the shower curtain half-opened, so he could keep an eye on her and stop her if she tried to leave. She closed her eyes for a minute, trying to settle herself down. She felt angry for sure. That was her primary emotion, but deeper down she felt hurt.

  She pulled the towel off her hair and started combing it with her fingers as she dwelled on him. She had wanted to believe that this Neanderthal was falling for her, that he might even want to spend his life with her. She wasn’t a romantic, her parents and Keith knocked those silly sentimental notions out of her. But Dean… he made her feel things she’d never felt before. His complete abandon let her be herself. And now, she thought, it was a game to him. He had seduced her, taken advantage of her!

  The shower stopped and Dean stepped out, shaking his head like a dog, letting the water from his hair fling everywhere, including all over Kelsie. “Stop it!” she yelped. “You’re getting water all over me!”

  She shot to her feet and gave him a shove with her hands. “You fucking caveman!” The anger and hurt in her boiling over.

  “Let me borrow a towel then,” Dean growled, whipping her towel off her and dropping it to the floor.

  “No!” Kelsie cried as he grabbed her hands and hauled her out of the bathroom. He pulled her to the bed and tossed her on it, and then threw his weight on her. He held her down with the length of body, while she tried to fight, yelling and cursing. He brought a hand up over her mouth to muffle her cries.

  “Stop yelling!” he growled. “You’re going to draw fucking attention to us. Or is that what you want?” She stopped as he said this, stopped yelling, stopped moving. Her stone-cold blue eyes staring angrily into his flinty grey eyes. “Good girl,” he said as he removed his hand. Then, “What do you want to do first? Talk or fuck?”

  “Fuck you…” Kelsie started, but Dean interrupted her quickly.

  “Good. That was my first choice too.” He leaned down and kissed her passionately, his tongue sliding into her mouth.

  “No,” Kelsie gasped out as she turned her head away from his greedy lips. “Talk first.” It took a lot of self-restraint for her to make him stop, because she truly didn’t want him too. She wanted to feel him inside her again, the pulse of his cock, thrusting deeply into her. But if she let him seduce her again, then he would know the hold he had over her. She couldn’t give him that kind of power.

  Dean tried to get her to change her mind, his breath on her neck, feathery soft, his lips gently dropping kisses, tongue lightly caressing the hollow of her throat, promising more if she just relented. But she stayed still, refusing to move, refusing to let her body betray the fire simmering inside her. “Get off me,” she said flatly.

  Dean looked into her eyes for a sign of capitulation, for a spark of passion, of acquiesce. But her eyes were shuttered, her face unreadable. He sighed. “Okay.” He rolled off her and they lay side by side, naked, both breathing deeply, each to quell the passion.

  Finally, Kelsie spoke. She didn’t mean for her voice to sound so despairing, “I don’t understand what I did wrong. Between last night and this morning. I thought we were okay.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dean could hear the break in her voice, her vulnerability. And fuck if it didn’t turn him on. He felt his cock jump up and look around. Looking for the beautiful mouth that was making those words that were making him hard. If only she would just stop talking with her words and start talking with her lips.

  Dean mentally told his cock to stand down. Then he said to Kelsie, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “This is an intense situation. I wish I had never gotten you involved, except also, I don’t really wish that. I’m not very good at this shit. I don’t talk to women, don’t have to talk to women, about the feels.”

  He sat up abruptly, which startled Kelsie, who also jumped up, but to her feet. She was naked and standing in front of him. Fucking beautiful in all her vulnerability. It made him want to shove her to her knees, shove his cock in her mouth, watch as she took him, made him come.

  Kelsie said suddenly, “I don’t know what to do! I don’t know how to show you that I don’t want to be anywhere else!” And then she stopped talking because that was too much, because she just told him she would do anything for him. She hoped he hadn’t heard the desperation in her voice, the promise of complete submission, but Dean was not a fool – he understood exactly what she said.

  And that put him back in control.

  “Show me Kelsie.” He demanded, his voice thick with expectation. “Come over here and show me.”

  Kelsie hesitated. Dean could see the confusion on her face, the realization that if she did as he directed, there would no going back, ever – this was her proof of trust. “Kelsie, do as I say,” he growled. She took a couple of tentative steps toward him, stopping in front of him, returning his lustful gaze with soft, yielding eyes. He reached to her and took her hands, stroking them with his fingers, his thumbs rough against her soft skin. He turned her hands over and kissed her palms, gently, each one in turn. Then he tugged at them, guiding them down to his legs. “Get down on your knees.”

  Kelsie dropped to her knees in front of him. Dean pulled himself closer to the edge of the bed, spreading his legs wider on either side of her, pinning her with his thighs. His cock was hard and swollen with expectation. He reached down and threaded his fingers through her hair. “Do you know,” he said softly, in a lover’s voice as he caressed her head and pushed it closer to his penis, “that a good blowjob is fucking nirvana? There’s nothing quite like the feel of the warm, wet, willing mouth of a beautiful woman sucking the cock, her tongue rubbing the head, a little rough, teeth lightly raking over the shaft, one hand gently squeezing the balls; the other pulling up and down on the shaft.” As he talked, he moved his penis to her mouth.

  Kelsie took it obediently, sliding the shaft in over her lips, listening to him instruct her as she glided her tongue over the head. She could feel her breathing constrict as she sucked him, explored him with her mouth. The heat in her belly slowly building and yet he never touched her except to cradle her head in his hands. As she sucked at his cock, she reached up and touched his balls, exploring them, feeling the hair on them, squeezing them. She placed her other hand on his shaft as she was bidden, applying and releasing pressure as she stroked it. She could feel her pussy, wet with desire, leaking onto her thighs. She couldn’t keep her hips still, they were moving with her mouth; her clit, needy and neglected. It was killing her. He was moving with her now, slowly at first and then speeding up as he got closer. His voice sounded strangled as he gasped, “You’
re going to make me come.”

  Kelsie heard the quickening of his breath, felt his fingers tightening in her hair, felt his balls tighten. She applied more pressure, with her mouth, with her tongue, with her hands, and then suddenly, Dean let go, exploding into her mouth, and Kelsie, moving her head and tongue and hands in time with each spasm, her fingers gripping his cock, felt her pussy flood with need.

  “Holy fuck,” Dean said as his breathing return to normal and feeling returned to his legs. His hands were still in her hair and he pulled her up with them, onto her back on the bed. He loomed over her, kissing her, his tongue exploring her, tasting her, tasting himself. He held her face with his hand until he felt her kissing him back and then he drew his fingers slowly down her neck to her breast. He circled her nipple, pinching it gently, feeling its hardness.

  He brought his lips to her ear, nuzzling it, moving down to her neck and then back up to her mouth, kissing her harder, devouring her lips, tongue thrusting into her mouth. He heard her breath quicken and she brought her hands up to his head, fingers clutching at his hair, forcing his lips to hers, matching his intensity with her tongue. As they kissed, his hand moved further down her body, his fingers exploring her soft contours, touching her belly button, the curve of her belly, the small triangle of hair, until he reached her pussy, wet and inviting. He drew his index finger up and down her labia, touching her clit, sliding it in and out her vagina, teasingly, then moving away, to the inside of her thigh, stroking slowly and gently.

  “God, Dean!” Kelsie gasped, her breathing heavy, her kisses becoming urgent. She bucked her hips to meet his fingers, then grabbed at his hand to guide him. But he rolled on top of her, lacing his fingers into hers and holding her hands tight beside her head. “No,” Kelsie cried. “Dean, don’t stop.”