Crave (Forbidden Series Book #1)

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Crave (Forbidden Series Book #1) Page 7

by Dani René


  “Angel, wake up.” Low spoken words in my ear rouse me from the memory, or was it a dream? My eyes flutter open, and I gasp when I’m met with blue pools filled with concern. As soon as I try to move, my body protests and I realize I passed out from the pain they’d inflicted. The images of two men old enough to be my father flash through my mind and the tears come.

  As they stream down my cheeks all I can do is allow them to bathe me in their purity. To let them try to absolve the things I’ve been through. What my body has endured. I know nothing will ever purge me from the crimes committed against me, but I let myself believe.

  “Hey, look at me.” His hand strokes my wet cheek and I watch him lick the saltiness off his fingers.

  He loves my tears.

  He tells me so, often.

  But this time he’s not the one who’s wrenched them from me, this time the pain was inflicted by sick men. Vile devils that want me because I look like their daughter. My eyes find his and I nod.

  “I’m fine.” I try to smile, but I can’t. He lifts me and I wince when I feel my skin tear. “Fuck.” The word that falls from me is hissed, low and angry, and suddenly I’m lying back.

  “I’m sorry. I tried to move you when you were sleeping, but in your slumber you shifted, tossing and turning. What were you dreaming about?” I shake my head. There’s no way I’ll tell him about my feelings. He doesn’t know I love him. He has no clue how much his presence makes all this bearable.

  He can never know because we’re not meant to be together. We’re forbidden.

  “It’s fine. Can you leave me alone please?” After a night with client’s we normally have a day off, but judging from the ache in my back and legs, I think I’m going to need more than a day. Anger bubbles up from my chest as he stares at me. I can smell her on him. Even though we’re not a couple, it hurts. I shouldn’t be jealous, I shouldn’t let it bother me, but it does. It slices me worse than the cuts from the leather that burn my skin.

  “Okay.” He spins on his heel and heads to the door, but before he walks out he murmurs. “I’ll be back.” With his head hung in, what? Shame? Guilt? I don’t know and I don’t care.

  When I do finally respond, he doesn’t hear me because he’s already down the hallway.

  “I love you.”

  A soft noise startles me and I roll over, opening my eyes to find the room in darkness. My body hurts and my ass stings as I shuffle out of bed. Padding over to my door, I flip the switch and the illumination that comes from my overhead chandelier is blinding.

  “I was wondering how long you’d sleep.” A rough voice has me starting and when I spin on my heel, I find Samael sitting on my desk. He looks relaxed as his feet dangle, swinging back and forth. I drag my gaze away from him and head into the bathroom to grab a glass. I fill it with cold water and take a long sip, savoring the cool liquid. When I enter the bedroom again, I climb back onto my bed without answering him. “You angry with me, Angel?” he questions with amusement, and I shoot him a death glare, which has him chuckling.

  I don’t know why I’m angry with him, he’s only following orders, but I have no one else to take my frustration out on. For as much of a controlling asshole as he is, he’s been good to me. Caring for my wounds and trying to make me more comfortable when the clients are rough.

  He’s silent for a while before hopping off the desk and stalking over to me. He stops at the foot of my bed. Those blue eyes pierce me like arrows shot directly at my heart. I wish he didn’t affect me. Every day that I’ve been held captive, I’ve prayed that I wouldn’t feel what I do because he wouldn’t want me. He couldn’t.

  Yes, we fuck, and there are times he’s gentle, but I know what I am. A slave. Nothing but a pet for him to toy with. To take his pleasure from when he needs it. As submissive as I’ve become with him, I still fight. I show him that he can take want he wants from my body, but he’ll never take my soul. Even though I know that’s a lie too because he’s already got it—it’s fused to his, making us one.

  “Are you going to act like a child?” When he crosses his arms in front of his chest and pins me with a glare, I fight the urge to smile.

  “What do you want, Sir?” I spit the word at him and fire blazes in his eyes. There’s something about me calling him that—it seems to turn him into an animal.

  “Sweetheart, do not fuck with me tonight.” He growls, low and rough, and it turns my insides molten. I shrug and pull the comforter up to cover my bare legs. He dressed me in a sheer nightdress earlier and my nipples are sensitive against the material.

  “Why? Aren’t you going to whip me? Add to the slashes on my ass?” The retort comes out unbidden, cheekily, and anger flares in those hypnotic pools. Before I have time to react, he’s beside my bed with his hand around my throat. He lifts me easily, pinning me against the headboard, his body cocooning me, and I savor the heat emanating from him.

  “Is this what you want?” he hisses. “Is it, pet?” he spits the name he knows I hate. “So pretty, but you know what? You’re not pure anymore. And it’s not because of what they’ve done to you. It’s because of me.” His other hand cups my pussy through the thin material of my panties and I feel his fingers push aside the cotton and enter me. “I fucked you. I own this little cunt. It’s mine.” He muses as his hold around my throat tightens and as sick as I think he is right now, my pussy pulses and I know he can feel how wet I am. “You see, Angel, you love my hands on you. Your cunt is soaked for me. Only me. And you know what? It will always be that way. Because I fucking own you.” With those last few words, he releases me and I sputter, gasping for air.

  I grip my sheets and turn my angry glare on him. “You want a reaction? Then here it is. Fuck you! Okay? Is that good enough? I hate you and I hate it here and I hate being a toy for sick bastards!” I realize I’m screeching, but I don’t care because my body aches and the skin on my back burns.

  Suddenly, I’m in his arms.

  I reach up to punch him but he grips both wrists and holds them behind my back.

  “If you stop doing that and acting like a child, I’ll talk to you. But if you insist on this display of immaturity, I’m going to leave you here and you can sulk on your own.”

  “Fine. Then fucking get away from me.” He doesn’t argue, instead he steps back and allows me to breathe. When he’s close to me I lose my mind, my anger, and I need to keep my guard up because one day I’m going to lose it and tell him how I really feel.

  “Will you behave?” he questions with a smirk. It’s sexy and infuriates me, but I nod. “Good girl.”

  Two words and he disarms me.

  Completely and utterly.

  And I’m a docile little kitten.

  She’s a fucking tiger, but when I utter those two words she’s purrs contentedly, which makes my dick stand to attention. “I’ve asked him to give you a few days off,” I utter, dropping my head in shame. Guilt burns through me at what I make her do every day. The agony of seeing her in pain, of seeing her with other men, flays me. It takes everything in me to restrain myself from barging into a room to rip the men off her.

  “Thank you.” Those two words should never be said to me. I’m not the nice guy and I wish she’d stop fucking with my head. Stop looking at me like I’m her savior. I’m not. I’m her nightmare. I’m the one who took her soul. Took her purity and marred it with darkness.

  But as much as I want to walk away, I can’t, I want her too much. I’m falling, scrap that, I’ve already fallen. Deep and fucking fast. I’m in love with her. The thought startles me and I’m rigid with agony.

  “Don’t thank me. It’s part of my job,” I growl but don’t meet her gaze. I know there’ll be pain in her beautiful eyes and I can’t bring myself to see it. I’m a coward.

  “Are you going to fuck me now?” she questions with that soft voice, and I spin around to find her sitting back watching me with intensity in her green eyes. They’re normally the color of tourmaline, but there’s always a slight hint of a
deep blue that shimmers when she’s turned on. I’ve only ever seen it when I’m with her.

  “No. You’re in pain. I’m going out tonight.” I don’t miss the disappointment on her face. I’ve told her I fuck other women, but I don’t. It’s a lie I let her believe so she doesn’t think I love her. Last night with Kandi was enough to confirm my feelings for Angel. It was the first time I’d indulged in another woman in the four years since I first touched Angel, and before I came I knew it would be the last. Before I plunged deep inside Kandi, I realized it was a mistake. Other women do nothing for me, because my sweet masochist owns me as much as I own her.

  Love. Only for her.

  “What?” I don’t know why I ask, but I do and that pisses me off. She shouldn’t have so much control over me.

  I’m slipping every day and it’s not good. My father will notice it. “Nothing. Have fun.” Her murmur is filled with hurt, but it’s not physical, it’s emotional.

  With that, she turns over and covers herself in the thick comforter and I miss those curves that were peeking at me only moments ago.

  “I will.” She doesn’t move, her eyes flutter closed and I see the glistening tears on her lashes. As much as I’d like to go to her, pull her into my arms, and kiss her, I can’t.

  So I turn and twist the handle on the door.

  As she does every fucking time I leave, she mumbles the words thinking I can’t hear her.

  But I do. I always do.

  For years I’ve wanted to say them back.

  But I don’t, so I shut the door and walk away.

  “Sammy.” I turn to find my little sister, Theia, walking out of the room where she’s probably been helping one of the girls. She’s dressed in a pair of tight black shorts and a bright red tank top. I shake my head and rake my gaze over her.

  Her job at Inferno is something she’s been glad to have, but every now and then, something brings her back here. I’m not sure what, but she’ll return with her light.

  “What’s up, pup?” She hates the name, but I find comfort in annoying her. Isn’t that what big brothers are supposed to do?

  “I’m heading out. Dad is in tonight and I’m not in the mood to talk to him. This shit needs to end. I don’t know why I come back. Another girl has been hurt and can’t work.” I regard her through narrowed eyes. She’s twenty-five now and after helping the girls for a couple of year, got a job at Inferno, Dax’s club.

  She’s never assisted me with Angel, not because she doesn’t want to, but because I don’t want anyone other than me with my girl. Especially the night some fucker thought it would be a good idea to whip her on her breasts with a thick leather belt. I almost killed him—it took four bouncers to pull me off him.

  “I know, sister. Trust me, there’s nothing I want more than all this to end. Once we have the intel we need, it will happen, just biding time.”

  We walk in silence until Theia asks the question I’ve been dreading. “You’re in love with her. Aren’t you?” She doesn’t look at me, but the air around us changes and I know she knows. It’s a living force between us. My feelings for Angel shifted a long time ago, but I’ve never let myself voice them. I haven’t even let myself admit it to the one person who I trust with my life. My little sister.

  We stop outside my office door, but before I can twist the handle, she places a hand on my arm. “Not now, pup,” I growl and push the door open. Walking inside, I feel every bit as fucked over as I realize my girl is feeling.

  With all that’s looming over my head, deep in my heart I know I have to make a choice. She comes first. Her safety. Her happiness. We can’t be together in this place, and that means we can’t be together at all. Not right now. And that’s why tonight I’m ending it. She’ll be more without me.

  “Don’t do this.” The warning falls from my sister’s lips, but I don’t respond. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial the number I should have called years ago. I was just too selfish to admit the woman who holds my heart is better off without me.

  I meet her gaze, but don’t have time to respond when the man on the other end of the line answers. “What do you want?” He’s not friendly. He has no reason to be. But he’s the only one I can ask.

  “I need your help.”

  After I swallowed my pride, I showered and headed back to see her. One final time. Time is running out, and I have nothing left to lose. So if one night where I can indulge in her is all I have, I’m gripping it with both hands. As I head down the hallway, I recall my earlier conversation with the only man I knew I could count on.

  “What do you want?” His response is everything I knew it would be, harsh, cold, and uncaring. But I have to make him care. I need to force him to see what’s in my heart.

  “I need your help,” I respond, not angrily as I’m sure he’s expecting. Instead, even to my ears, I sound as if I’m about to break.

  “My help?” he questions in shock, and I nod to myself, to him, to anyone who will listen.

  I take a deep breath and tell him the truth. “I’m in love with someone.” Words I never expected myself to say startle us both. He’s quiet for so long, I think he’s hung up on me.

  “And what am I supposed to do about it?”

  “You have to help us get her out of here, out of Caged.” I glance up as I respond. My sister’s eyes are wide as she watches me. She of all people should know how difficult this is for me.

  “So this girl’s done a number on you, hasn’t she?” I can almost hear the smirk in his tone and once again, I nod in agreement. Yes, she has.

  “I love her. I need her safe, please?”

  “Okay, I’ll help you.”

  I push the door open to find her curled up on her bed with a book in her hand. Long blonde hair fans the pillow behind her.

  My Angel.

  “What do you want?” she snaps before the door closes, and I can’t help chuckling.

  “To see you.” It’s one of the most honest things I’ve ever said to her. All those times I hurt her with my words, it was so she wouldn’t fall in love with me. Now, there’s no more time to lie or push her away because these are our last few hours alone.

  Strolling toward the bed, I settle on the footboard and watch her. With a huff she closes the book and regards me. I reach for the remote at her bedside and turn on the little radio she’s got on the cupboard. The song that screams around us from the surrounding speakers has guilt racing through my blood.

  “Dance with The Devil” by Breaking Benjamin taunts me. It’s a haunting melody, and so apt for this moment. “This is an ominous song.” I smile sadly, but my words are far from a joke.

  “It is.” As the lyrics warn us, telling us to say goodbye, I realize it’s the last thing I want to do tonight. I scoot closer to her as he sings about believing in each other and seeing through empty lies. I know everything in my life has brought me to this place. To this moment.

  I swipe my thumb along her lower lip and drag my gaze up to hers. “You’re my Angel, and I know you crave the chaos and pain.” It’s a statement which quirks her lips, tugging on one side of her mouth.

  “And you’re the demon seeking sanctity within my body every time you take me, Samael,” she responds and my heart constricts. I want to tell her I love her. To concur, but I don’t. Once again, I drop my hand and turn away from her. The soft sigh behind me is like a foghorn because I know what she wanted. “Are you always going to turn from me? Is my light too much for you?” Her question jars me. Yes. I want to tell her. I ache to remind her that I’m death. That being with me or wanting me is not going to bring her love. Straightening my shoulders, I regard her over my shoulder and offer a smirk.

  “Darling, if you wanted my darkness I’d know. But you’re not ready.” My gaze flits to the mirror of her dressing table and I watch her face. She meets my eyes in the reflection and says something that cuts through me like a hot blade slicing through butter.

  “I’ll shelter you with so much of my light it will ec
lipse your shadows.” I chuckle at her reference.

  “You do realize that when an eclipse happens it’s the opposite?” I muse, our gazes lock and she grins at me.

  “I do, Sir, but I’m sure you’re intelligent enough to know what I mean.” That sassy mouth.

  “I do, Angel. Come here.” She quickly jumps from the bed and drops to her knees before me. My cock hardens at the sight, but I reach for her and pull her to her feet as I rise along with her.

  “Dance with me.” I circle my arm around her waist and grasp her small hand in mine and we sway to the song that’s telling me to do what’s right.

  To say goodbye.

  To free her from hell.

  “I’ll always dance with you,” she murmurs, pulling her head back. We stare at each other in a heated standoff, and I see it. All of it. Pure, unaltered love. There’s no tension, no fear, just complete trust, and it fucks with my mind.

  “I’m the devil, sweetheart. You shouldn’t give in so easily,” I remind her, but she shakes her head and tilts her chin up in that sassy defiance I’ve grown to love.

  “I haven’t had a choice in the matter. I gave in a long time ago.” Before she can say anything more I crash my mouth to hers and when her lips part in a soft, dick-hardening gasp I slide my tongue against hers. The sweet whimper is enough to spur me on and I continue to delve into her warm mouth.

  She’s intoxicating, welcoming, and she’s about to leave my life, so I do what I should have done for her first time. I lift her and walk her to the bed. Laying her down, I cover her body with mine and settle between her thighs. “I should walk away,” I murmur against her plump lips.

  “You should make love to me,” she quips, pouting her lips playfully and I lift off her so I can easily tug her panties down her legs. Once they hit the floor, I unbutton my shirt and let it pool behind me. While I push my slacks off, my gaze doesn’t leave hers.

  “Touch yourself. Show me how much you want me.” She spreads her slender legs and her bare pussy is glistening. Her fingers tease her entrance and I watch enraptured as she dips two digits inside her sopping core. Fucking beautiful.

 

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