by Stasia Black
“Yeah, Sharo, you hear that? Make sure the Shades are standing by to see how we can help these people, ok?”
Cora sagged back. She didn’t have anything left. Nothing left. She was used up. Wrung dry. Collateral damage.
Marcus hung up the phone.
“Never again,” he said, staring at the road in front of them. “Never again.”
“Where to, Mr. Ubeli?” the driver asked quietly.
“Take us to the Estate,” Marcus ordered.
Twenty-One
Cora was trembling as Marcus led her inside the Estate. Fucking shaking so hard, he could all but hear her teeth clacking. And it wasn’t from the cold.
She was scared. Scared out of her wits. They’d shot at her. Opened fire with no care for who might be nearby—
Marcus clenched his jaw as it all flashed again before his eyes. The eruption of gunfire, a sound you never forgot after you heard it once. Shoving Cora down under the table, not knowing whether she’d been hit or not—fuck, he needed a drink. Or to shoot something. But no, dammit, both of those things would take him away from his wife’s side and he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
“We’re going upstairs,” he barked as soon as they were inside. Useless to say, really, since he was all but dragging Cora up the stairs already. His men had already checked the residence when they first arrived and he’d ordered them to stay outside on perimeter duty for the night.
Cora didn’t say anything or talk back. That wasn’t like her. Neither was passively letting Marcus move her around like a doll as they got to the master suite. But she didn’t give a moment’s protest when he led her straight into the bathroom.
And she washed her face like he instructed and brushed her teeth without a single word. What the fuck? Where had his spitfire gone?
“Cora, look at me.” He grabbed both her cheeks once they were done in the bathroom and tried to force her to look at him. She stared at the floor.
“Look at me,” he demanded again.
When her eyes finally moved sluggishly up to meet his, they lacked their usual shine.
“Stop it or I’m going to take you over my knee.”
No response. Not the usual flare of her nostrils or widening of her eyes. Her face was as blank as a painted doll’s.
“Cora. Cora.” He wanted to shake her but he didn’t trust himself. He was feeling too many things. He’d gone so long without feeling anything and then now for everything to rain down on him all at once, coming at him from all directions—
He gripped Cora’s hair at the nape of her neck and wrapped his arm around her waist, crushing her body to his. Willing her to wake the fuck up.
He crashed his lips down on hers.
She was still unresponsive. Limp in his arms. Pale and cold and lifeless like some dead thing.
“Gods damn it! Cora.” He pushed her up against the wall and pressed his lips to hers again. But for once in his life, he didn’t demand. He didn’t force his way in.
He coaxed.
He teased.
He prayed at the altar of her lips.
He closed his eyes and kissed her. Come back to me. Come back to me. Please. He didn’t know if he was entreating Cora or the gods.
Because what he was really begging for was forgiveness.
None of this was ever supposed to touch her. He promised to keep her safe.
He’d promised and he’d failed her. Just like Chiara.
No. He shook his head. No. Not his Cora. He wouldn’t lose her. He fucking refused. He’d never let her go. The gods and Fates be damned.
He pressed his body more firmly against her so that she was pressed tight, trapped between him and the wall. He’d shield her until the day she died. Which would be a long fucking time from now.
And yes, he was hard. He was hard whenever she was near. Even now. If he thought it would bring her back to him, he’d bury himself balls deep right this second. But he couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t do more damage.
So instead, he took her wrists and pinned them to the wall above her head. He stepped even closer into her, crouching slightly so that his face was beside hers.
“Do you feel that?” he demanded. “Your heartbeat is right next to mine. Because we’re both fucking alive. People died back at that diner but it wasn’t you and it wasn’t me.”
Her brow scrunched, the first sign of life he’d seen since before the shooting began.
He brought a hand between them and clutched her cheek roughly. “That’s right. You are alive and I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
“Because you own me?” Finally, a spark lit in her eyes. “Tell the truth. I’m just as expendable as any of those people back there. Except, I forgot. I’m still of use to you. Or maybe not so much anymore. I can’t be much of a pawn to hold over the Titans if they were willing to kill me tonight just to get to you.”
He let her talk only because she was finally showing signs of life again, but every single word out of her mouth only pissed him off more.
“Expendable?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice.
But either she didn’t hear it or she pretended not to. “Collateral damage,” she said. “We’re all just collateral damage to you. Nothing matters but your agenda. You don’t care about anyone or anything.”
His hips thrust forward at her insolence, his rock-hard cock jutting rudely against her thigh. Her body shifted to cradle him between her hips. His cock snug against her sex.
Her eyes flew open, apparently just realizing what she’d done at the same time he did.
He smirked down at her. “Your body knows who you belong to.”
Fury lit up her eyes but his head was already descending, taking that lush mouth. Taming it.
Or at least he tried. She bit his lip and yanked her arms down from where he held them above her head and started pummeling him with them. Well, as much as a kitten could pummel a lion.
He easily caught her wrists again and pinned them above her head. She screamed out a roar of such fury and frustration, the Shades outside would surely hear and wonder what the hell was going on in here.
But Marcus didn’t care if they heard. He didn’t care about anything except the furious, bright, and shining goddess in his arms.
He could have lost her. He’d barely found her and he could have fucking lost her.
It was just like four months ago when she’d been on that gurney being wheeled into surgery except worse. Because now he’d had four more months of knowing her, four more months of coming home to find her sweet body in his bed, always so hot and receptive to him. Four more months of her whip smart intelligent eyes on him, challenging him, not letting him get away with any of his shit, and he—
“I love you.”
It was out of his mouth before he even registered what he was saying.
Cora froze and stopped struggling, blinking up at him in confusion.
But Marcus wasn’t confused, not anymore. “I love you, goddess.”
He felt like laughing, it was such a weight off his chest, finally admitting what he’d struggled for so long to deny. He’d loved her a long time now. So long he couldn’t remember what not loving her felt like.
Cora shook her head back and forth, her brow scrunching. “No. You just want to use me. I heard you. The night I woke up from the coma. I heard you and Sharo.”
Fuck.
He let go of her arms and instead cupped her cheeks again. Gently this time. “I’m an ass. I don’t know what all you heard that night but I’ve been a coward. For a long time now. Ever since I met you, you’ve made me feel—”
He shook his head. “You’re different from anyone I’ve ever met. I’m different when I’m with you. I thought it was weakness.”
Her huge blue eyes searched his back and forth like she was terrified to believe what he was saying. He’d fucked this up so badly but he’d make it up to her.
“But it’s not weakness.” He narrowed his eyes and brought his forehead cl
ose to hers, needing her to understand. It was also clear now. “You’re my strength. You wash me clean. Without you, I’m nothing. None of this means anything without you. I love you.”
“Stop saying that,” Cora whispered.
Marcus shook his head. “Never. I love you.”
Fat tears rolled down Cora’s cheeks. “Don’t say it unless you mean it. Please. Don’t—” her voice choked off, head shaking back and forth. “Don’t—”
“I love you. I love you. I love—”
His words cut off when Cora threw her arms around his neck and smashed her mouth against his.
Drinking in her kiss, he scooped her up and strode into the bedroom. He lay her down on the bed and draped himself over her. “Goddess,” he smiled against her mouth.
“Now,” she panted breathlessly, squirming under him, tugging up her dress. He helped, tearing the fabric and palming her sweet pussy. Gods, she was wet.
“This is mine,” he reminded her. She nodded so frantically he chuckled. “As long as you remember who you belong to.” With his thumb, he rubbed her favorite spot, to the upper left of her clit and her body spasmed, her gaze going hazy.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, brushing the sweet spot over and over until she trembled. “Let it come, let go for me, that’s it—”
Her breath rushed out and pink flared in her cheeks as a soft climax took her. Her hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for an eager kiss.
He indulged her, rubbing his face against hers, leaving her cheeks red from his rough stubble. He loved marking her. Later, he’d rub his face between her thighs and leave her chafed and aching so tomorrow, she’d remember him.
Now he had to be inside her. His fingers fumbled with his zipper.
They both moaned as he breached her soft entrance. Her inner walls kissed along his cock. When his thumb found her clit again, teasing another climax, her pussy squeezed him so tight he grew light-headed.
Cora twined her arms around his shoulders, tugging him close. “Say it again,” she whispered as if afraid the moment would shatter.
“I love you.”
Her happy gasp nearly sent him over the edge. He rose up to one elbow, hitching her long leg over his hip so he could drive deep. Her head flew back but her own hips rose up to meet each thrust.
Marcus growled, pulling his cock almost all the way out to slam into her slick wetness again. As he bottomed out, he ground against her entire pelvic cradle until her juices coated his lower stomach. Then he pulled out and slammed home again.
“Oooh,” Cora moaned, her face scrunching. He stilled.
“Did I hurt you?” Each thrust went so deep, his cock bumped her cervix.
She shook her head and wound her legs tighter around his back. “More.”
Fingers clawed into the bed, Marcus drove in his wife’s welcoming body, pounding her into the bed. Cora’s nails raked his shoulders, her feet digging into the muscles of his back.
“Marcus, I’m—”
“Come for me, baby.” She detonated with a series of soft cries, her cheeks and chest blooming pink roses. He nuzzled her a moment before pistoning his hips faster, driving towards his own climax. His limbs and torso tightened, a bow ready to let loose the arrows of his seed.
When he came, his world shook apart, focused on the sweet, smiling face of his beautiful wife.
“Angel,” he brushed his lips over hers, kissing every inch of her mouth. Gods, he wanted to live inside her. He could tie her up forever and fuck her every hour and it wouldn’t be enough. Never enough.
With a groan, he separated from her. Her pussy was as pink and swollen as her well-kissed mouth.
“I meant to be gentle,” he muttered.
“It’s all right.” Her fingers trailed along his shoulders, soothing the scratches her nails had left. “I’ll take you as you are.”
“Because you love me.” He rolled to his side so he could cup her cheek.
“Yes.” Her breath hitched.
“Even when you didn’t want to.” He smiled as he traced her lips. He didn’t deny the swell of pride. She’d given her love even when he hadn’t deserved it.
“Yes.” Her eyes grew shadowed and he leaned in to taste her.
“Never again. I won’t hurt you. I’m gonna take care of you.”
She winced and he cursed himself. He’d made that promise before. “It’ll be different this time. I’m gonna keep you safe, protect you from everything—”
“Even yourself?” she added with a wry smile. She was too smart. She saw right through him, to the monster he was.
She loved him anyway. The depth of his feeling made his heart thud to a stop. He’d do anything for this woman. Even die for her.
“Yes. I won’t let the darkness touch you, Cora.”
With a small, hesitant hand, she reached up to stroke the dark hair from his brow. “You can’t keep it away,” she murmured. “It’s a part of you.” She sighed, her gaze slipping away. “It’s a part of me now, too.”
“You’re made of light, angel. Summertime and everything good.” He buried his nose in her hair. She even smelled like sunshine. “Your light will drive the darkness away.”
“Maybe.” She pulled back and palmed his cheek, her blue eyes searching his. “Just love me. It’ll be enough.”
In response, he turned her away from him so he could hold her to his chest. Her head rested over his heartbeat.
Later, he’d clean her up and go down on her. Go slowly, make her scream. But right now, he wanted to hold her. His dick was hard again, straining, but he’d wait. He had the rest of the night to be inside her.
The rest of the night, and the rest of their lives.
Twenty-Two
Hours later, Cora awoke with the sounds of gunshots ringing in her ears. She sat up in bed, gripping the empty sheets beside her until her dream—of bullets crashing into the restaurant—faded away.
Cora looked around, confused for a second not to be in her bed at the penthouse. But then the rest of it came crashing in.
I love you.
Three little words with the power to break her. Or remake her. She pulled the silk sheet up to her chest and crossed her arms over her knees.
He loved her. He loved her back.
She smiled silly and looked around but Marcus wasn’t anywhere in the large master suite and she didn’t hear him in the ensuite bathroom either. And then her chest tightened with fear. Would he take it back? What if it was just another cruel game to him?
All of a sudden she could barely breathe. She threw the sheet back and jumped to her feet, grabbing a robe and all but running out of the room. She had to find him. She had to know if it was real or not.
She’d just pulled open the bedroom door when she heard angry voices coming from somewhere in the house.
Frowning, she followed the sounds down the hall. She and Marcus always stayed in the master suite on the second floor. Most of the house had been closed up for over a decade, the furniture under blankets like ghosts from another time.
The voice was coming from somewhere near the front door. She paused at the landing above the stairwell, pulling her robe more tightly around her and listening hard.
“We had a deal.” The words echoed around the foyer’s cathedral ceiling and came right to her ears. It was a man and she’d swear she recognized the voice from somewhere. “I’ve done my part. Given you land rights, re-zoned the docks. Turned a blind eye to the scum building up on every corner in the Styx.”
Holding her breath, Cora crept around the corner. Marcus’s dark head came into view. He stood with Sharo at his back, facing two other men who’d come with the noisy guest, a handsome blond man who looked familiar. Cora couldn’t put her finger on where she’d seen him before. He was shorter than Marcus, but he stood in the center of the foyer with a posture that said he was used to dominating conversations.
“I kept you clean,” the blond said. “You’ve stayed in power. But everything you’ve built o
n is mine. I laid the foundation. I control it. I can take it away.”
Who dared talk to Marcus this way?
Beside Marcus, Sharo shifted slowly. Cora’s breath caught. Sharo was large enough to take all three of them down. And here, on twenty acres of private land, who would ever find out what happened? Was she actually afraid for the blond man and his two bodyguards? She couldn’t tell. So much had happened today, she could barely sort through one thing before another was being thrown her way.
“I understand your concern.” Marcus’s voice came low and level. “At the same time, I can’t help but be offended by what you imply.”
“I’m not implying,” the blond man said, taking a step forward and getting right in Marcus’s face. Gods, did the man have a death wish? “I’m telling you. I’ve done my part. I expect you to deliver. I don’t expect a restaurant to be shot up the very night I’m pointing out my strong stance on crime.”
Cora’s eyes flew open and her hand shot to her mouth to cover her gasp. It was the mayor. Storm or Strum or something. No, Sturm. Zeke Sturm, she remembered now. She’d seen him talk at the charity dinner. He and Marcus worked together? The golden boy mayor and the city’s biggest crime lord?
“It’s being handled,” Sharo rumbled.
“My ex-wife’s hairdresser could handle this better,” Sturm snapped right back. “We’re looking at war. Now? On the eve of the election?”
Cora backed further into the shadows, wanting to know more about how he was connected to Marcus.
“What I want to know is if you’ll make good on the promises you’ve made over the years.” The mayor jabbed a finger towards Marcus. Cora sucked in a breath. She’d never seen anyone talk to Marcus like that.
“The reporter vultures are circling. They’ll say I look soft on crime. The vote is in less than a week. You move on your enemies now, this whole election goes down in a hail of gunfire. You say you control the streets? Then control them.”
“Mr. Sturm, you’re upset. You’re not seeing the big picture.” Cora recognized that voice. The quieter and more still Marcus became, the more dangerous and calculating he was.
