Wicked Things (Chaos & Ruin #3)

by Callie Hart

  “I don’t recall telling you to strip down to your underwear,” he growls. “I want you naked, Sloane. I want to see all of you. Now.”

  There is something so sexual, so erotic about the way he’s watching me in the mirror, his eyes spending far too long fixed on me and nowhere near enough time on the other cars on the road. If I didn’t know he was capable of splitting his focus so efficiently, there’s no way I’d be doing this right now. I certainly wouldn’t be pushing down my bra straps, slowly lowering them over my shoulders. I wouldn’t be reaching between my breasts and unfastening the lace clasp from the front, allowing my bra to fall from my body. I wouldn’t be sliding my hand between my legs, teasing myself, moaning a little at the contact.

  “Off,” Zeth snarls. “Fucking take them off.”

  My chest is rising and falling as I obey him. I lift my ass off the seat so I can remove my panties. Zeth’s eyes are hungry, filled with need. He clears his throat as he goes back to watching the road for a second, glancing over his shoulder so he can change lanes. He takes our exit, the road heading up the mountain to our place, and then he gives me his attention again.

  “Spread your legs for me. Show me your pussy. I want to see fucking everything.”

  I open my legs as instructed, and Zeth fastens his lower lip between his teeth, rumbling out his pleasure. In short, very brief glances in the mirror he surveys my body, focusing on my pussy.

  “My dick is rock solid right now,” he informs me. “I’m going to fucking punish you with it, woman. I’m going to thrust it deep into your mouth. I’m not gonna stop pushing until I hit the back of your fucking throat. Are you ready for that?”

  “Yes. God, yes.” I am too hot—my body feels like its on fire.

  “Touch yourself for me. I want to hear you moaning back there,” Zeth commands.

  Once upon a time there was a virginal innocent, who’d never really masturbated before in her life. Then she met the big bad wolf, and he showed her a whole new world of self-abuse. “Where should I start?” I pant.

  “Roll your nipples for me. Squeeze. Hard. Squeeze them as hard as I would, Sloane. And no cheating. I’ll know if you’re cheating.”

  “Why would I even want to?” I ask. My hands are already on my breasts, cupping and kneading, working over my flesh. It feels so good. Not as good as it would if my hands were Zeth’s instead, but still… Taking my nipples in between my thumbs and my index fingers, I roll them, pinching and squeezing, until the sharp, burning pain fills my head. “Ahhh… oh god.” I arch my back, and Zeth makes a pleased humming sound.

  “Your clit now. I want to see you tease your clit,” he tells me. “Feet up on the seat, Romera. Let your legs fall apart. I want them wide.”

  So specific. So demanding. I plant my heels on the seat just beneath my butt, and I let my knees fall out, displaying me as plainly as can be. Zeth reaches up and angles the rear view mirror down, no doubt giving himself a better view. There are no cars on the road at this time of night. No street lights, either, though. The road is pitch black, winding up, up, up, ascending the mountain in the dark. Zeth spends more time looking straight ahead than he does staring in the mirror, which I am glad about now that the way ahead is so winding and dangerous.

  “Make yourself come for me,” he demands. “If I can’t look, then I want to fucking hear you, Sloane. How wet are you?”

  I tease my fingertips over my pussy, shivering a little. My hand comes away slick, my own arousal all over my skin. “Very,” I say breathlessly. “So wet. Damn, I…that feels amazing.” I rub my fingers in small circles against myself, working faster and faster, until I’m rocking my hips, grinding myself into my own hand. Zeth risks a lightning fast backward glance, and groans deeply.

  “Fuck, Angry Girl. You are…you are something fucking else. Slide your fingers inside. Do it for me. Do it right now. Fuck yourself with your fingers.”

  My back arches away from the seat as I do as I’m told. Just my index finger, and then my middle finger after it. I pump my fingers into my pussy, holding my breath until it’s too much to bear, and then I’m panting, gasping, using my other hand to rub my clit at the same time as I fuck myself.

  “Shit. God, Zeth. I’m losing my mind. I wish this were your fingers. Your mouth. Your tongue. Your cock. You…I just want…you.”

  “Show me,” he snarls. “Show me how much you want me. Come all over your fingers for me, Angry Girl. Do it right now. I want to hear you screaming me fucking name.”

  It doesn’t take long to give him what he wants. I’m already so close. Honestly, the past few weeks, I’ve been close to coming from the feeling of my own clothing brushing up against my body whenever he’s around, so this…this insanely hot moment we’re sharing is enough to send me spiralling over the edge, my consciousness scattering to the four winds as I break against the wave of pleasure that crashes over me.

  “Fuck. Oh, shit. Shit, Zeth. I’m going to come. I’m going to come. I’m going to—” I can’t even hear my own voice anymore. All I can hear is my blood rushing around my body, churning like stormy waves against a shoreline. My neck is bent to an angle, my eyes screwed shut against the power of my climax, my whole body shaking.

  “Learn forward, Sloane.” Zeth’s voice is the only thing capable of pulling me from my reverie. He sounds taught, like a bowstring ready to snap. I open my eyes, and his fierce gaze meets mine in the mirror, sending shiver after shiver skating down my spine. “Do it,” he commands. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”

  I’m utterly boneless as I lean forward, my breasts crushing up against the back of the passenger seat.

  “Show me what your pussy tastes like,” he says evenly. He’s too controlled, everything about him held under tight guard. I know he wants to climb in the back and claim me right now. I know exactly what he wants to do to me, to make me howl and beg and plead with him for mercy, for him to allow me to come, but he’s keeping a tight leash on himself, at least one eye on the road. “Slide your fingers into my mouth, and let me suck every bit of you clean,” he says evenly.

  I almost come from hearing him say those words alone. Reaching through to the front of the car, I rub my slick, soaking wet fingertips against his lips, and for a very brief second his eyes flicker closed, his expression shuttering in the most addicting way. The tip of his tongue darts out and makes contact with my fingers, and a terse, savage groan rips from his throat. “God,” he hisses. “Holy fucking shit.”

  I push my fingers past his lips, into his mouth—hot, wet, his tongue laving and licking me, cleaning me, tasting me. One second Zeth’s teeth are biting down on me, his breathing growing faster and faster, and then the Camaro’s tires are screeching, and he’s stopping the car. Not at the ride of the road. Not discreetly hidden beyond the tree line. He stops right in the middle of both lanes, slamming onto the breaks. Two seconds later, he’s out of the car and he’s ripping his seat forward, roughly taking hold of me and then pulling my naked form from the car.

  It’s still raining, pouring in fact, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

  “You’re too fucking much, Sloane. I can’t fucking take it anymore.” He carries me around the front of the car, quickly placing a hand on the hood of the Camaro, presumably checking to see if it’s hot or not (it isn’t), and then he’s laying me down, spreading my legs open wide, and he’s burying his tongue in my pussy. Using the very tip, he strokes and flicks, licks, laves and sucks, feasting on me, devouring me piece by piece. He claims me with his mouth with such urgency that I don’t stand a fucking chance. His fingers bite into the flesh of my thighs as he goes about his task, and I close my legs around his head, unable to stand another moment. The rain crashes down on my naked body, running over my bare breasts, washing me clean as I come. I scream his name, hands fisted in his hair as I rock and grind against his mouth like a woman possessed.

  I fall back against the hood of the car, completely unable to move, but Zeth isn’t done with me. He rears back, tearing his l
eather jacket from his body and dropping it in the middle of the road. His drenched t-shirt comes next, and then he’s frantically ripping at his belt and his jeans, yanking them down his body. He doesn’t remove them all the way. That would require him to dispose of his shoes and his socks, and I already know he can’t wait that long.

  In amidst the haze of his need, a flash of something tender crosses his face. He places one hand directly onto my as yet flat stomach, and a bright, emotional light shines in his eyes.

  “Mother of my child,” he grinds out. “You’re the only woman in the world who could be this for me, Sloane. You’re the only woman alive who can possibly give me this. I fucking swear to god I’m going to make sure you get your happily ever after.”

  He doesn’t remove his hand as he pushes himself inside me. I’m suddenly full, full to bursting. Some men are afraid of hurting the baby when they make love to their newly pregnant wives or girlfriends, but not Zeth. He takes me with a force that leaves me breathless. With every thrust, every deep, ferocious drive of his hips, he groans, losing himself, running his hands all over my body, leaning over me to bite and suck on my breasts, fisting my hair, biting my neck, no part of me left unattended to by him.

  “You’re mine. You’re fucking mine, Sloane. Always,” he gasps.

  “Yes, fuck, yes.” I wrap myself around him, clinging to him, refusing to let him go as he pounds into me, grinding his teeth together. And then we’re both coming, me crying out, him roaring up at the stormy night sky as our climaxes overtake us. There is no beginning. There is no end. The is only me, and him, and now…another life, resting inside my belly between us. Something perfect, and wonderful and unexpected.

  Zeth collapses over me, and I can feel his heart hammering away in his chest. He strokes him hands up and down my sides, his cock pulsing inside me every few seconds as the aftershocks of his orgasm tease their way through him. Carefully, so very, very carefully, he slides down my body until his forehead is resting on my stomach.

  “This is a game changer, you realize,” he says, his voice slightly muffled. “You really are stuck with me forever now.”

  “That’s all I want in the world,” I whisper back.

  He moves, his chin resting lightly on my belly so he can look up at me, his hands braced against my hips. The rain pelts our bodies, running down his face, soaking his hair, and he is fucking magnificent. The most beautiful, raw, magnificent man to ever walk this earth. My breath catches in my throat, making it almost impossible to breathe.

  “When I get the courage up,” he says softly. “I’m going to ask you to marry me. And I seriously fucking hope you say yes.”

  Time simply stops moving forward. A moment, an eternal moment, passes between us, where I try not to burst into tears. I never once thought this man would be healed enough to say something like that to me. That he feels he can now is a testimony to how much we’ve been through, how much we’ve endured and fought through to be with one another.

  “I love you, Zeth Mayfair,” I whisper. “You already know what my answer will be.”

  A gentle smile dares to tease the corners of Zeth’s mouth. Despite the rain and the heavy, swollen blanket of clouds that hang in the sky overhead, he looks for all the world like the goddamn sun just came out.

  “Good,” he says. “Then maybe I won’t have to be so brave after all.”

  FIFTEEN

  SLOANE

  I hate this redheaded bitch, standing in the doorway to the engineering room. Her nose is crinkled in distaste. My vomit was cleared up a silent, mousy-looking woman with braids, who didn’t register any emotion as she knelt beside my cot and took care of the mess. There’s no smell anymore, no sign that I was unwell, and yet Alaska’s making a show of being well and truly grossed out. I guess working so long at the hospital, dealing with so many sick people, has desensitized me to puke—I deal with far worse bodily fluids on a daily basis—but she’s acting like I’m the most unsavory person on the planet.

  “Your knight in shining armor is coming to rescue you,” Alaska says, her eyes roving around the engineering room, studying the ceiling with feigned interest. “He’s going to arrive early, of course. And he’s going to bring friends, I’m sure, even though I’ve told him not to. But he’s coming.”

  “And what happens to him when he gets here?” Dread courses through my veins as I ask the question. I don’t expect her to tell me what she has in store for Zeth, why she took me in the first place, and to what end. She doesn’t let me down. Sighing heavily, she rolls her eyes. “That, you’re just going to have to wait and see, aren’t you?” She fixes those cool, unimpressed blue eyes of hers on me, and her utter disgust shines out at me. “I never thought he’d get someone pregnant,” she says. “That just…it doesn’t even make any sense.”

  I see it then—the catch of jealousy. I hear it in her voice. She’s angry, even. My mouth feels like it’s filled with sawdust when I say, “That’s the problem with you people. You all think you know him. You all think you know what to expect of him. But trust me…you don’t have a clue what the real Zeth Mayfair is like.”

  A wretched smirk, sour and twisted, tugs at her mouth. “You’re trying to tell me he’s a soft-hearted family man. Really?”

  I allow my head to rock back, resting against the metal bars at the top of the cot. “No. Not at all. I’m saying he’s all alpha. He’s claimed me as his, and he put his child inside me to prove it. He’s not softhearted in the slightest. He’s raw, and he’s violent, and his heart is filled with vengeance, I’m sure. You should never have taken me. He’s going to do anything in his power to destroy you when he arrives like a tornado on your doorstep, Alaska… and he’s a very resourceful, very determined man. I’m merely letting you know that you’ve underestimated his fury.” I give her a second to digest that. “I really hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing, Doctor Romera,” she snaps, snarling at me. “I’ve been planning this for some time. And don’t worry—I’ve had plenty of help. All the T’s have been crossed. All the I’s have been dotted. Now I highly suggest you shut your mouth and behave yourself for the next little while, otherwise I’m going to be forced to gag you. And puking through a gag would be pretty damn difficult, don’t you think?”

  “Fuck you.”

  She huffs bitter laughter down her nose. “You’re a spirited woman. I’m sure Zeth loves that about you, but it’s going to get you killed one of these days. Now. I have someone I’d like you to meet. Though…” She grins, her eyes sparking with malice. “I believe the two of you are already be acquainted.”

  SIXTEEN

  ZETH

  An hour’s drive. That’s how far she took Sloane. If I were Alaska and I was planning on kidnapping the woman I love, I would have taken her to the other side of the world. No, that wouldn’t have been far enough. I would have taken her to the other side of the fucking universe. Because the moment I find Sloane and she’s safe is the moment the killing will begin. I don’t care what her motives are. I don’t care what she wants from me. Alaska won’t get what she’s after. She’ll get my gun pointed at her head, and she’s weep as I pull the fucking trigger.

  “Slow down,” I hiss to Mason. “If we get pulled over by the cops, I’ll be using your ball sack for target practice.” I’m aware that threats are probably the last thing Mason needs in his life, but fuck. If anything comes between me and Sloane right now, I will not be held accountable for what happens afterward. Friend or foe, there will be repercussions. I watch out of the window as Seattle city proper fades and suburbia takes over. Neat little houses with picket fences and yards. Dogs on leashes. Kids riding bikes in the streets. The sky is gunmetal grey overhead, brooding and filled with the promise of rain. In the back seat, Michael’s been making calls since we left the gym, trying to gather more information on what Alaska has been doing for the last year. When Cade told us he’d killed Julio, I wasn’t surprised. The fat fucker had it coming to him,
and after what he did to Cade’s legs…

  But it was a surprise to hear that Perez had traded his favorite woman beforehand, had her sent south of the border. Apparently she wasn’t with the Villalobos cartel for very long. Which means she’s been in hiding, plotting, planning and scheming, though god only knows what.

  Alaska’s message said to arrive at eight, but fuck that. It’s six-thirty when we arrive at the Redwood Cubs baseball field, and it’s just started to rain, large, fat drops of water hitting the Camaro’s windshield like the beating of a drum. The parking lot is empty, besides a garage truck on the other end of the vast stretch of concrete, which is slowly hauling dumpsters into the air, groaning mechanically as it up-ends them, emptying their contents into its oversized belly.

  The field’s floodlights are lit, sending stark white light blazing out across the field beyond. The three of us get out of the Camaro, and I head around the back of the car, popping the trunk, taking out the large black bag that sits inside.

  I haven’t brought an array of weapons with me to this meeting. I have brought just one, and I am going to take great delight in using it on Alaska when I finally lay my fucking hands on her. She’s going to scream. She’s going to beg. There used to be a time when I objected to hurting women, but that time has passed. No one gets to take something that belongs to me and use it to hold it against me. And to take my woman? That’s just fucking suicidal.

  “You’re going to stay calm, right?” Michael says.

  My hands still on the small black plastic box I’m holding. I give him a look out of the corner of my eye.

  “Okay. That was a stupid question. I’ll rephrase. You’re going to stay calm enough to find out where Sloane is before you go ahead and kill her, right?”