Twisted Vow

by Ella Miles

  She bites her lip. “I just haven’t gotten as acquainted with them as I want. I don’t know them well enough.” She leans forward and runs her tongue over each ripple, moving down further and further until her tongue dips just below the waistband of my pants.

  “Jesus Christ,” I curse, and then I come undone.

  I’m tired of games. I’m tired of pretending we don’t want each other when we do. Most of all, I’m tired of not having her when my entire body would give up food, water, and even its ability to breathe in order to have her.

  “Fuck me, Zeke. Please, I can’t wait.”

  I grab her off the counter and spin her around, pushing her down until she’s hugging the sink with her arms, and her ass is in the air. She’s still wearing her bra, and I’m still wearing my shirt ripped open and my pants. But neither of us can wait any longer to get fully undressed. Our need is too great.

  I undo my pants, and my cock springs free already pushing at her entrance, knowing it’s exactly where he belongs.

  Our eyes lock in the mirror, and she spreads her legs wider for me. Her lips part, and her eyes darken, more than prepared for me. I want to take my time, knowing that each time I have her could be my last. But I can’t control myself. Not with her.

  I grab her hips and sink inside her as she pushes back against me.

  “Tell me you want me,” I say as I thrust in her.

  “I want you. I want this.”

  “Tell me this isn’t your sin? That this won’t be the last time we fuck.”

  She gasps as I push deeper inside her, and then her eyelashes flutter up. “This won’t be the last time.”

  Yes.

  She said it, so it will be true.

  Because this can’t be the last time, I need so much more. I need her on all fours, on top of me, spread on my bed. I need her slow and fast. I need her on the counter, in the shower, on the bed, against the wall, and every other surface I can find. I need her tied up and in control.

  I need Siren in every way before I can let her go.

  Fucking her now is only the start.

  “Harder, Zeke,” Siren cries out.

  I fuck her slower, not ready to let her come just yet. I know that her pulsing around me, combined with her screaming my name, will make me come far faster than I want.

  “Zeke!” Her cries beg me to move faster, to give her what she needs—an explosive orgasm.

  I take my time, drawing everything out. “Not yet, my siren. Not yet.”

  She claws at the sink, and from the dirty look she’s giving me, she wishes her nails were driving into my flesh, telling me exactly how desperately she wants me to stop teasing her and let her come.

  But when I thrust inside her again, my patience evaporates. I need to come as badly as she does.

  So I move harder, faster, gripping her hips as I thrust in and out of her. Her pussy throbs on my cock, telling me how close she is. Her little whimpers push me forward. She whips her hair from her back to shoulder and flashes me a look that reads sin. I reach around her body, finding her clit with my fingers. She shudders at the touch and then…

  She sings my name at the top of her lungs.

  And I’m hers in an instant. I want a repeat of this moment, now and forever. I don’t know about forever, but I can settle on now.

  21

  Siren

  When Zeke fucks me, it feels like he belongs in me. Like he’s the missing piece of my puzzle.

  And the second he stops, I feel alone and desperate. I feel empty—not just physically, but like he takes all of the life inside me with him when he stops.

  I stand gripping the sink, my legs weak, and my body trembling. Zeke is standing behind me, staring at me like he can’t believe what just happened, and he’s not sure what to do next.

  I’m not sure either. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were only supposed to fuck once. Now that we’ve fucked a second time, what is going to stop us from doing it over and over again? Even if I know how this ends—us hating each other even more than we already do.

  I take a deep, steadying breath as I look at Zeke in the mirror. He’s looking at me with hungry, determined eyes. We fucked so quickly, neither of us is even fully undressed. He’s still wearing his pants and shirt. I’m still wearing my bra and panties he pushed to the side when we fucked.

  But neither of us look more satiated than we did before we started.

  “We should go check on Beckett,” I say between heavy breaths crashing through my entire body.

  “Should we?” Zeke asks, running his fingers down my back.

  I nod.

  I watch as he shrugs off his shirt and then steps out of his pants until he’s naked. My tongue flicks to the roof of my mouth, trying desperately to not show him how his naked body affects me.

  He steps back, keeping his eyes on me, he opens the glass door and flicks on the shower.

  “Or?” he cocks his head to the side, with a devious twinkle in his eyes, telling me what he wants without saying it.

  So I respond the same way. I unhook my bra, letting it fall down my arms. Then I slide my black panties down before stepping out of my heels.

  I take a step toward him, feeling seductive, but my legs are weakened. I grip the sink, keeping myself standing as the effects of my early orgasm roll through me. Zeke took everything from me when he fucked me.

  He smirks at my reaction.

  He steps forward and grabs my arm, tugging me to him. And then he pulls me into the shower.

  “I can never get enough of you,” he says, before his lips claim mine again.

  And when he kisses me, that’s exactly how I feel—claimed. Like he’s demanding me to say I’m his with each kiss. Say I belong to him.

  I don’t want to belong to anyone. I don’t want to be claimed. Even if a tiny part of my heart aches to be his. I won’t let that part of me win. I will never belong to anyone but myself. Not again.

  Zeke kisses me again, and I falter. I stop the kiss, letting my face fall as the water hits my face, smacking me with reality. I need a moment to think, to clear my head.

  But Zeke doesn’t let me pause. He tilts my head up, until our eyes meet again, and he presses a soft kiss. “It’s only sex.”

  It’s only sex. It’s what I want to hear and also the same words that will destroy me. His words should be exactly what I want to hear. Instead, they rip me down to my soul.

  He deepens his kisses, reminding my body of how badly I want him. And I forget about his words. I forget about everything else except Zeke. My body stirs, needing him again.

  He’s gentle with me this time. He holds me up against the wall as my legs continue to tremble from exhaustion, but not willing to give up having him again. I want him. I need him. And shaky legs will not stop me from having him.

  I pull his hair free from the man bun, and he shakes his hair as the water runs over us both. My back shivers against the cool tile, and Zeke kisses every inch of my body he can find—my neck, my breasts, my stomach. He stops between my thighs when I gasp from a single kiss there.

  After our first round, I’m so sensitive that I could burst from a single touch.

  But then he lowers his mouth, kissing over the wound that has only started to heal on my leg. And I can read his pain in his eyes.

  “This is just sex, remember?” I say to him, not able to handle his pity.

  “Just sex,” he says back before kissing my scar again.

  I gasp at the sensitive brush of his lips over my thigh. He continues over all of my body, trying to kiss every scar he can find like he’s kissing away the memory of each pain inflicted. He doesn’t realize the only scar on my body that needs healing is the one over my heart. But that scar is unhealable.

  I start to shiver again, and Zeke holds me tight to his body, warming me. I feel the hardness of his chest against my cheek, I feel his heart beating against my ear, and I belong here, in his arms.

  Zeke kisses down my face, and then without speaking, h
e lifts one of my legs, and he enters me in one long stroke.

  I gasp as he fills me.

  It’s a feeling I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to when it comes to Zeke, or want to ever give up.

  I wrap my hands around his neck, and we kiss lazily like we’ve been kissing each other our entire lives as Zeke slides in and out of me. He moves like he knows every curve of my body and what every whimper escaping my throat means. And he does.

  He shouldn’t be able to make me feel so good, not when he’s being so casual. He shouldn’t know my body so well. But it seems he’s discovered all of my secrets, at least my physical ones.

  We move together in unison, both taking our time, building to the inevitable moment this ends.

  I gasp and pant and feel my nerves tingling with excitement. And I know I’m about to come. I bite down on Zeke’s shoulder, causing a tiny droplet of his blood to flee as I pierce his flesh.

  The roar he gives me in return hits me right in the gut.

  When he comes, I feel his warm seed inside me. When he pulls out, I feel it flow down my leg. And for a moment, I feel so incredibly content. If I keep fucking him, I could chase this feeling for much longer.

  Slowly, Zeke puts my leg down, making sure I’m steady on my feet.

  This was just sex.

  He reaches behind him and grabs the shampoo bottle. I put my hand out to take it from him when he’s finished. Instead, he squirts the shampoo on my head and massages it into my scalp with his magical fingers.

  I close my eyes, getting lost in how good his hands make me feel. I’ve never been pampered before, but I guess this is how it feels. Zeke washes my hair, then my body.

  When I open my eyes, he has a fluffy towel wrapped around me. I realize this is more than just sex. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know when Zeke stopped hating me entirely for my betrayal. I don’t know when I stopped thinking about him as only my enemy. But it happened.

  And now this is happening. Zeke is taking care of me, and I didn’t immediately fight him off. This new relationship we have entered into is going to fuck up everything, because it sure as hell isn’t just sex. It’s definitely not love, we aren’t dating, but it’s more than just sex.

  I wrap the towel around my body and step out without speaking a word to Zeke. There are no words to say. Everything has changed, and although the sex is out of this world amazing, the consequences are going to be equally damaging.

  I pick up my bra and ruined panties off the floor. Then find my jeans and shoes. I put everything on except for the panties, while Zeke dries off and wraps the towel around his waist, in no hurry to get dressed.

  I wring my hair out, knowing it’s going to be a frizzy mess in an hour when it air dries, but I don’t want to stay in the bathroom with Zeke just so I can dry my hair.

  I run out of the bathroom to find my shirt and wait for Zeke to get dressed. Hopefully, we will get back to business. We will figure out what to do with Beckett, and then when we return to St. Kitts, we will continue to hate each other.

  I bend down and pick up my shirt off the floor of the bedroom. And I pause.

  “Zeke!” I shout.

  He runs out, still only wearing the towel. His eyes are wide, and his teeth clenched.

  I run my hand through my hair in frustration.

  Beckett is gone. He snuck out while we were fucking.

  “We need to start going through his things, see if we can find any clues to where he’s gone,” Zeke snaps.

  I nod.

  But as I look around the room, I realize we didn’t just make one mistake; we made two. Clothes hang off every piece of furniture in the room. But there is no flannel, no jeans, no men’s clothes at all. The room is filled with women’s clothes. And before we fucked on it, the bathroom vanity was covered in makeup.

  “This isn’t Beckett’s room,” I say to Zeke as he opens a drawer in the nightstand.

  Zeke stands up, examining the room closely, and realizing I’ve spoken the truth.

  “Dammit,” he says, kicking the nightstand so hard it falls over. He’s glaring at me like this is all my fault. Like I tricked him somehow by forcing him to fuck me.

  I glare back. I won’t let him blame me.

  I pull on my shirt and untuck my hair out from my neckline, flipping it to one side.

  “I’m going to find Beckett. When you stop glaring, come find me.” I throw the door open. “Or don’t.” I stomp outside and slam the door in Zeke’s face, knowing that fucking Zeke just became an even bigger mistake.

  It could cost Zeke everything, if we don’t find Beckett.

  22

  Zeke

  I’m such a fool. That’s how I feel every time I let Siren back into my life. I’m a fucking fool.

  I should have been focused on Beckett. Instead, I was tempted by Siren. And once I was under her spell, there was nothing to break me free of her. Fucking her again made me realize that with one kiss, she can manipulate me into doing anything. One fuck, and I would risk my life for her.

  It was a mistake.

  Kissing her.

  Fucking her.

  All of it.

  And now I’m alone in a hotel room, with only a towel around my waist. Siren has run off, and I’m not sure if it’s to bail me out of this mess by finding Beckett or to abandon me and make me figure it out by myself.

  I head back to the bathroom to retrieve my clothes, and all the memories and emotions of just a few minutes ago come flooding back. The way Siren looked at me, the way she moaned for me, the way she felt around my cock.

  Fucking her might have been a mistake, but it was worth it.

  I throw my clothes on, not even bothering to button my shirt up as I chase after Siren. I run through the hotel and take the stairs instead of the elevator, hoping Siren didn’t get very far in the time it took me to get my head together.

  But I don’t find her in the lobby or on the street.

  I run my hand through my long hair in frustration. A burst of thunder rolls overhead, and I shudder as rain pours down on me, matching my mood. I’m wet, half-dressed, and bewildered as to the locations of either Beckett or Siren.

  It doesn’t get much worse.

  I feel a buzz in my pocket, and I yank my phone out to a text message from Siren.

  * * *

  Got a car. Meet me at the corner of 10th and Cummings.

  * * *

  I sigh and rub my neck. Siren is always two steps ahead of me. I need to think faster if I’m ever going to keep up with her.

  I jog the three blocks to the corner she described. Two seconds later, a Toyota pulls up next to me.

  I move to grab the passenger door when the driver’s side door opens, and Siren pops out, flicking me the keys. I catch them with a puzzled look.

  “You’re letting me drive?” I ask.

  She sighs. “Just drive. I’ll explain when we aren’t both getting soaked.”

  We both run around the car until I’m on the driver’s side, and she’s on the passenger’s side. We climb in, and I start driving, even though I don’t have a clue where I’m going.

  “Where am I driving?”

  “Straight. I’m tracking him on my phone,” Siren says.

  I glance over at her. “You’re tracking Beckett?”

  “Yes, I put a tracker on his phone while he was out. But if he’s smart, he’ll ditch his phone soon. So we need to hurry.”

  I nod and step on it, making her grip her seat and inhale a deep breath. I’m surprised she’s riding in the car with me driving again.

  “He’s at the docks,” Siren says.

  I take a sharp turn and head toward the docks.

  An awkward silence passes now that we have nothing to talk about until we get there.

  “I’m not going to apologize,” Siren says.

  I stiffen.

  “I did nothing wrong,” she says.

  I pull the car over to the side of the road as we reach the docks.

  “You
never do.”

  I don’t know if I meant it honestly or sarcastically, but by the scowl on her face, I know the words came out wrong.

  I’m a stupid fool. But right now, I can’t apologize for it or convince Siren I didn’t mean anything by it. Right now, I need to find Beckett.

  I pull my gun out as I jump out of the car.

  Siren does the same next to me.

  “You don’t need to come. I got this,” I say.

  “Sexist,” she murmurs under her breath.

  “No, you are more than capable of defending yourself. This just isn’t your fight. It’s mine. And as you don’t want me to protect you, I don’t want to be protected either.”

  She frowns. “I can help.”

  “I know. But don’t.”

  She follows me for another second toward the docks and then stops.

  I continue on my own, not looking back at Siren. She’s safe, that’s all that matters.

  The sky is dark, well past midnight. There are no lamp posts on the long pier I’m walking down. The only light is from the moon overhead and the lights from the town behind me. But the darkness doesn’t stop me from walking. I need to find Beckett. I need to complete the first sin.

  And I need to get Siren out of my fucking head.

  I don’t see any movement or hear sounds of other men as I walk. I feel completely alone. It’s how I like it when I go into battle. Alone, so I have no one to protect except myself.

  I keep walking into the darkness, hoping Siren is right, and Beckett is here. Hoping he didn’t just throw his phone out the window and keep driving.

  A red light blinds me and gives me my answer.

  I freeze, as the red light trains on my forehead.

  “Put your hands up,” Beckett says from the darkness.

  I don’t know how good of a shot he is, but I do as he says while he has his gun aimed at my forehead. I’m guessing he can at least hit me when I’m out in the wide open, and there is little to no pressure on him.