by Ashley Black
Aaron and I will meet you in the main city. Turns out he is friends with one of Thornton’s crew. Aaron found out where he’s taking you. We’ll be there soon babe. I want to help you. Trust me. You are going to fucking need it xx
Twelve
“Elena, I’ve been thinking about the title of your next book.”
Following this heart exploding message I had cried out in surprise when Thorn swept into the room, dressed in head to toe black and that infamous mask.
He stared down at me through its dramatic dark eye holes, emerald eyes turned up at the corners in a smile.
I had had the sense to slide my phone under my pillow.
Sweet Jesus!
I didn’t need him to see that last message!
“You have?” I mused, lifting from the bed. I reached, placing my hand alongside his mask gripping it hard. “Do tell.”
His large shoulders shook briefly with silent laughter and then he reported. “It should be called Thrill Me.”
I arched a brow. “I am quite attached to Vanquish Me.”
He shook his head. “I am very, you will understand, unattached to that outcome.”
I restrained a smirk that threatened my mouth. “Why Thrill Me?”
“Because I want to thrill you, Elena. You teased me. Now I get to thrill you,” he shrugged. His voice fell to the softest caress of a whisper. He sounded unsure of himself, which was kind of terrifying and adorable, all at once
“Aren’t I? Thrilling you?”
I feigned a yawn. “You are better than a sleeping tablet. Honestly. You just knock me right out.”
“You little viper!” he hissed.
My eyes widened at the sudden change in his mood.
He sounded perfectly livid.
“You like it right?” he asked. “Phantom of the Opera?”
I felt my shoulders un-bunch themselves from my ears. “Ahhh, of course.” I recognized the line. The scene where the gorgeous messed up Phantom had lost his shit when Christine had removed his mask. He had flown into a rage that always made me laugh inappropriately every time because I was kind of, sort of, a bitch.
“Because there is a place I installed a massive screen there at great expense into the cliff face. It’s set up to play this movie for us. It’s a beautiful little oasis, buried deep in the hills. I’ll drive us there.”
“Is this?” I asked, my heart beginning to pound. “A date, Thornton Darko?”
He was breathing hard as he stared down at me. His arms hung rigid by his sides. His hands were stuffed into black gloves and curled into fists.
“It is a test,” he finally answered.
He sounded cold.
“Test?” I pressed my body flush against his. He stepped away from me, eyes widening a little behind the mask.
“I said, no touching unless explicitly invited,” he growled.
I groaned, face palming. “So cute, you’re still insisting on those rules.” I leaned around him and slapped his taut muscular butt, gripped tight in those black trousers.
Perhaps I was emboldened by my white witch friend Clarissa and my best buddy Aaron’s imminent arrival, but I felt insanely powerful, bad ass, sexy and … all right, a wee bit delusional.
Of course, my naughty grope of his ass pissed him off.
His gloved hand instantly caught my wrist. Gripping hard, he brought it around to the front of me, resting it against my mound that was pressing against the lacy skin tight white material.
He then moved my hand, forcing it to rub up and down, effecting a delicious hard friction.
My breath hitched stupidly in my throat.
That felt pretty good actually.
Crazy.
Like the man himself.
His emerald eyes narrowed at me behind the mask. “The test is whether you can survive the thrill.”
We drove in silence.
There was everything to talk about.
The words got stuck.
Aaron and Clarissa would be with me soon.
I was buzzing with excitement about this!
I needed back up.
Or did I?
It infuriated me that he would not tell me everything. So much for getting it out of him.
Like, who was this man he feared so much and needed to protect me from? The one who had gotten his family into the satanic cult in the first place?
What did the Warlock do to deserve him cracking open his chest and eating of his heart?
What did he find out on his reconnaissance?
Who killed my Brett?
I put these questions aside.
And wondered about our date.
He had framed it as a ‘test’, whether I could survive the ‘thrill.’
But he hadn’t denied that it was, still, a date.
How did I feel about that?
Thrilled.
Oh fuck me dead please. No.
He manipulated my feelings. Surely he had to! Because my heart burned for Brett.
And yet …
Thorn overwhelmed me.
Everything deep inside of me that screamed for me to run away from this rather insane gorgeous man quieted.
Crickets in the face of …
“We are here,” he announced softly.
Him.
Butterflies took flight in my belly as his green eyes slid to my breasts practically spilling out of the lacy inappropriate negligee he had left me to wear. The one that would please a prick.
His lips parted.
“I could dress you as tinman from the Wizard of Oz and you would still enchant me,” he complained bitterly.
“You got a thing for tinman?” I laughed.
He shook his head and a harsh laugh emanated from his throat. “No. I would think … not. There is nothing inside that stupid fool’s head, so a real heart isn’t going to make it any better. Any one I meet who yearns metal, the artificial and rescinds the flesh. Who wants to be a robot? I think … you are the most boring uninteresting person I have ever known and are not bad ass enough to be human so get out of my fucking life and fake it in a coma or something. You might be happier.”
“Wow!” My eyes widened. “Says you, with …” I reached out and gripped his thick muscular arm that had tightened from the quiet fury I heard in his rant, around the steering wheel. “Such a delicious flesh covering! Not every one has the same wrapping Thorn. Some would be sooner be free of it.”
“Well my family and a whole town are free of it Elena, perhaps those misguided fuck weeds would like to join them?”
Wow! Sweet Jesus. He was so very angry.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I said gently.
He blew out a breath. “I am sorry. It annoys me. These fuck heads that would sooner game their lives away and not help those who are real. I am not a hero Elena and yet my people call me that. If I cure cancer. If I cure dying an undignified death at any age, then perhaps,” Thorn waved his hand a little. “I am a hero.” He blew out a breath. “I try to protect as many as I can, society is denigrating our elderly. You must see how this youth obsessed culture plays out right? I mean the elderly can’t even escape idiots asking dumb questions when they’re on their death beds. Young fuck wits asking them to ‘reflect upon their biggest regrets’. You’ve seen the video right?”
I nodded. “Yeah that guy is cute. Apparently that video made folk quit their jobs after seeing it.”
“If confronted with that man, I would punch him in the face,” Thorn said hotly. “Who in their right fucking mind would ask an old person, riddled, scared, tortured with fading life, about to die what are their regrets? Fuck young people. They don’t need more perspective. It is not up to these old people to gift it. Young folk will continue to stare at their pointless navels forever. Why put those poor old people through that? I hate that man! And I hate his stupid video and message!”
“Hey, now!” I reached for him
He had torn himself loose from the vehicle.
It was so fast I almos
t didn’t see it.
The pain inside this man.
I stumbled out into the chill blast of night desert air.
Thorn was facing away from me.
His black coat was rippling about him, his head bowed.
“Thorn?”
“Dad is dying.”
I barely heard his voice.
He fell to his knees, ripped off his mask and threw it away, his fists in his hair.
Shit.
I said nothing, but sat calmly beside him, unable to keep my gaze off his face. It was beautiful. So terrifyingly beautiful. The darkness that fell over it, the way his emerald eyes shone wet with pain.
Then he shook his head, dark hair unmoving, ahhhh he had slicked it back for our … date?
His black gloved hand curled around my arm.
“I am sorry,” I breathed finally.
“I am too,” he blinked slowly at me.
“Can anything be done for him? What is killing him?” I went on.
Thorn shook his head, pressing a finger to my lips. “Nothing can be done. Or perhaps it might, but I am useless. A stupid lazy Warlock who got fat on meaning and my art. I denied nurturing the side of me that scares me most, that might, if I had kept up my practice, have saved my dad.”
As always, Thorn was so hard on himself. That man needed to cut himself a break some time.
So intense.
Way too intense.
I loved it.
“I am done with this conversation Elena. No more tonight, please let’s have fun and not think upon such sad matters. Rest assured, I have not given up. I will not fail the only man who has truly loved me as a son.”
He then took hold of my wrist and attempted to drag me after him, but I was off and running, retrieving the mask he had flung.
When I returned to him, agitated, flushed and puffing, he was smiling faintly at me.
“Your ass looks nice when it is running away from me,” he mused as he twirled the mask between his long nimble fingers. “I would like to see that again,” he slapped my bottom.
Hard.
So hard, it wobbled what felt like an age before stilling.
Humiliating. Gah!
“Run!” he invited, white teeth flashing as his dark green eyes narrowed.
I blinked at him.
“NOW!”
Then he delivered another slap. I gasped and glared at him. “Stop that shit Thorn. Your dad is a really cool guy, but just because he’s dying doesn’t give you free pass to –
The words failed me for the look he was shooting my pussy right now. His heated stare was wild, feral and hungry. He licked his lips.
“Humor me please,” he begged softly. “Can you run away from me?”
I hated feeling controlled. I didn’t run. I turned and strutted away instead. Slow. Deliberate. Pretty sure there as an ass wiggle in there somewhere.
I felt the dynamic energy that was Thornton Darko slide up behind me when I got the edge of the oasis and peeled out of my lacy white lingerie. I tipped my head back and sighed in satisfaction as the moonlight fell down upon me. Then I waded into the inky, surprisingly warm waters confidently, and slipped beneath the surface.
I screamed abruptly, spluttering when I was unceremoniously yanked from the water.
Holy shit.
Thorn.
Phantom of the Opera, had just started rolling on that big screen in the cliff face. I was momentarily distracted by the larger than life images flashing behind my rock star. My gaze slid to him. He stared straight down at me, breathing hard, his face dripping. “I want to fuck you up Elena.”
I wrestled free from his grip and backed away from him. “What does that mean Thorn?”
“Exactly,” his lips were suddenly brushing against mine. “This.”
His hot mouth slanted over mine and he began kissing me hard, while his fingers rubbed impatiently at the back of my skull.
I felt myself fall forward against him.
Hopeless body.
His skin against mine.
Exquisite.
My hands wound around his neck and held on for dear life. Because I felt it slipping away from me.
His was a death kiss I was certain.
Criminally vulgar, and devastatingly beautiful, and evil, all at once.
Fuck me.
So unfair!
“Stop fighting me,” he invited, sighing against my lips. He drew back, his mouth curving into a smile. “Let go. Let me do this. I know you can survive the thrill.”
I nodded numbly and dumbly as he advanced on me again.
“Kiss me,” I whispered. “Until I feel nothing.”
His dark green eyes flashed as his mouth stretched wide in a grin. “Of course.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my lips part in anticipation. I freaked out when his hand slammed between my thighs. Sliding it up, he squeezed my pussy hard. Two fingers slid inside and I heard a moan rip from my throat.
He dipped his head and began bruising my lips with the unrelenting siege of his mouth. The skilled, rather intense caress of those lips left me stunned for a moment, and then I startled him by kissing him back with an ardour that matched his.
It had an effect on him.
A bizarre moment when both our eyes popped open at once and saw each other.
Lips locked, me writhing senseless on his fingers inside of me.
Suddenly, he removed them, unsealed his mouth from mine and then sucked on his fingers, eyes falling shut. “Damn you taste so good Elena.”
I restrained an eye-roll.
“Here,” Thorn pulled his powerful dynamic body from the water abruptly. He reached for me and simply pulled me up beside him into a little enclave in the cliff face. I could see he had gone to some trouble to set the area up of course, with a sprawling, expansive bed adorned with crimson red and black pillows, and the little enclave was awash in red lantern light.
I noticed the headboard again was fashioned in the shape of a raven. Its black demented head at the centre, and wings fell on either side, encircling the bed.
I felt the look of judgement on my face.
Thorn flopped gratefully onto the bed and beckoned me. A flash of impatience darkened his beautiful face. “My grotto is perfect, and better still, safe from -
He smirked and snapped his fingers.
A vicious crack rumbled the night. Bright blue strobe light exploded around me and then it began to rain. Damned hard.
In the desert.
“That.”
I realized I was staring out at that cold span of water in despair. I was absolutely fucking devastated.
He had trapped me again.
Not that I believed for one moment he was powerful enough to affect the elements.
But then again, powerful mother fucking warlock he was turning out to be.
“You are shivering,” he observed softly. My eyes squeezed shut as he wrapped his hot body around mine and simply held me.
His arousal stuffed cock poked at my hip as our naked bodies pressed up against each other.
When I tried to pull away, his grip tightened and he only held me more fiercely.
“Come lay with me love,” he invited thickly. I watched my errant hand slide along his hot muscular inked chest and rest there a moment over his heart.
The delicious assured beat and pump of it beneath my fingers.
His monstrous heart.
His hand closed over mine, our fingers entwining.
Thorn pulled me down to the bed as the storm protested loudly outside.
Seriously, it was going nuts out there.
The thunder was getting louder.
The lightening hissed.
The rain, even more insane.
“Just for this moment, I want your undivided attention. I want you completely focussed on what I do to you,” his lips tickled my neck. “Can you do that for me Elena?”
I felt my head bob. “Yes.”
Thorn laughed bitterly. “Your energy tel
ls me otherwise. You are so scattered. Tell me, do you still want me?” His dark eyes burned hot and bright,. His brow scrunched in frustration as he considered me. “You said such hurtful spiteful things in the bar,” he finished softly, his gaze falling from mine.
“Of course I want you Thorn. I love you,” I sighed, remembering my failing and disastrous attempt to push him right out of my life. The crazy mother fucker had only come back swinging. Harder. He had shown me, as Bob had warned me, the chilling consequences of that heart of his loving and caring too much.
Thornton Darko had gone insane.
I shivered remembering how he come after me when I left the bar.
Punched Daniel.
How he had eavesdropped on my conversation with Clarissa and not getting the response he clearly wanted from me, had threatened the bar owner and had started to trash the bar.
“Then why do you resist? Is it the dead artist? Do I frighten you? I need to understand. What is it?”
“Why ask me these things?”
I didn’t want to think about any of them. I would sooner face the storm outside naked than deal with Thornton Darko’s intensity, not to mention insensitivity right now.
Dead artist.
Fuck him.
Fuck me for attracting him into my life in the first place!
Thorn tenderly stroked the little raven about my throat. “Because I am yours. You are wearing the evidence of your ownership of my fucked up little carcass without a soul.”
I shook my head. “I don’t trust you, and you are not mine. My heart won’t allow it.” I flinched, realizing my tone had turned pleading. “Please don’t push me Thorn when I am not ready. I can push back when I’m feeling threatened. And I’m known to shove pretty damned hard.”
His lips turned downwards and his hand fell reluctantly from my necklace as his emerald stare hardened.
“You are right not to trust me,” he said eventually. He leaned forward, and nipped my lip with the slightest graze of his teeth, I shuddered in a chaotic clash of revulsion and pleasure. “As I am right not to trust you, but never fear me Elena. You are under my protection.”
“Which is why you felt compelled to do a protection spell on your ass,” I snarked, recalling the scene at his place, in that cave, how we had just started to lose control with each other after the delicious tease of tasting drinks bestowed by his mouth, and he had freaked the fuck out and uttered the incantation in the old language I was surprised to have understood at all.
