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Savage Kingdom: A Dark Romance (Sekten Book 1)

Page 5

by C. Lymari

“Kiss me,” I demanded.

  My hand gripped her face, making sure she stared at me. I didn’t get mad when she defied me—nothing ever came easy with her. Good. I didn’t want easy anyway.

  “Fine, I’ll kiss you,” I spat.

  In one swift movement, I had her pinned underneath me. Her onyx hair was spanned over my pillow. Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing. I had her hands restrained at the side of her head, and my body was trapping hers down.

  “Look at me, Petal,” I breathed. I was well aware that at any moment, this could become too much for her, and she could push me off. She could have sex; she fucked like a damn slut—it was emotions that had her scared.

  Her gaze collided with mine. The gray looked dark because there was no light in this tent; still, there was lust and hesitation.

  “Either you kiss me back, or I’ll keep kissing you until your lips fucking bleed.”

  Her chest rose with defiance, making my already hard dick enlarge even more.

  “Then I hope you like the taste of blood,” she taunted.

  “Oh Petal, blood doesn’t scare me,” I said before my lips descended on her mouth. Soft, plump lips met mine. I licked the lower one with the tip of my tongue. My hands held her arms in a vise, making sure she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

  Some people went their whole lives without feeling crippling desire. The kind that made you fight wars and travel to the ends of the world to get another hit. It didn’t matter the time or space that passed; it was her lips I wanted. Her body the one I desired; it was her heart that I was damned to acquire or brutally rip out of her chest.

  One way or another, she was going to be mine.

  The kiss was gentle, a soothing wind in the chaotic storm we lived in. Her lips were soft, perhaps the most delicate part of her, unmarred fucking perfection. I didn’t allow myself to look at her while I gave her a slow kiss. Right now, she was like a caged animal, and I didn’t fall back. She was beautiful, but when she was backed into a corner, scared, feeling weak, she was a fucking vision.

  I added more pressure to my kisses, along with biting. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Once again, her body betrayed how she was really feeling. I let go of one of her arms and reached for a knife I had under my pillow.

  It was a hunting knife, the tip sharp enough to tear skin. I kissed her again, then brought the blade to the middle of her bottom lip and made a small cut.

  “You wanted blood—” I kissed her lips, the taste of copper filling my taste buds. “—I made you bleed.” I licked my lips, and she did the same, wincing for a second. I rose, kneeling on top of her. “Every time you talk, you’ll feel me,” I spat at her. I brought the knife down, stabbing it on the mattress right between her legs. “Now fucking kiss me,” I demanded as I bent to take her mouth one more time.

  Her lips opened, and I could have sworn I heard heaven sing or maybe hell, but fuck, at this point, I didn’t care. We clashed—two people fighting for dominance with neither wanting to surrender. Blood, lies, and regret were mixed into this kiss, and fuck if that didn’t sound like one hell of a good time.

  For the first time since pinning her down, her arms moved. I let them go to see what she would do. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her mouth opening and her tongue seeking refuge in my own.

  “You’re so bloody maddening,” I groaned against her mouth.

  She whimpered. Probably from pain, but I was ready to fucking blow.

  Her body started to move below me. She was fucking rubbing herself against the knife between her legs. I reached between us, pulling it off and throwing it across my tent.

  “Either take your trousers off, or allow me room to play.” I was going mad with need, but I still gave her a fucking choice before I pushed her past the point of no return. Daphne took a deep breath, then unbuttoned her trousers.

  My hand went to the small patch of naked skin on her stomach. I slid my hand down, ignoring the bumpy skin not to draw attention or make her self-conscious.

  Her mound was silky smooth. With two fingers, I parted the flesh of her pussy and was greeted with wetness.

  Fuck, yeah.

  “Do you hate it?” I taunted her. “The way your cunt begs for me?” I inserted the two digits in roughly, and she let out a low moan. That right there undid me. I wasn’t a rational guy on most days, but having her coming undone by my doing had me unhinged, and I was selfish when it came to her. I didn’t want to share her with anyone. Not a moan or whimper. Everything she gave me was sacred, and it was for my pleasure only.

  “Shut up,” I growled.

  She glared at me, but I ignored her. I had my fingers in her wet pussy, and I kept fucking her with them. When I hooked my fingers, touching that soft spot, her head lolled to the side, her eyes rolling a little. Her mouth parted, and a loud moan left her lips.

  I fucking lost it. With one hand still in her pussy, I rose to reach for my gun. I kept pistoning my fingers, and when she opened her mouth to mewl again, I shoved the muzzle of my Glock in her mouth, gagging her.

  Her eyes were wide, but her pussy was soaked.

  “All your pleasure is for me, and me only,” I told her, knowing that I sounded irrational, but I didn’t care. “I’ll be damned if I have to share any part of you with any of the fuckers outside.”

  Her eyes became tiny slits as she glared at me, yet her mouth relaxed, allowing me to push my piece deeper into her mouth.

  It was depraved, and it was perfect.

  My fingers fucked her cunt hard as she moaned against the gun. Her lips quivered from the way it started to hurt her jaw and her eyes watered, and yet I thought she had never looked more beautiful.

  A clanking sound sounded against the metal as she bit the muzzle at the same time her pussy started to spasm against my fingers. I put the gun to the side, then removed my fingers from her cunt.

  Daphne lay back on the bed, her wolf eyes wide and staring at me as I licked my fingers clean.

  Here I thought I had the upper hand, but she said three little words that had my world spinning.

  “Gideon.” She said my name like she had never said it before. Like it was something she needed, not just wanted. “Undress me.”

  I remembered with clarity the last time I let a man other than Gideon see me naked. It was years ago, right after my sixteenth birthday. A woman’s body was a wonderland, but mine was a tarnished canvas. I didn’t think much about it since my body was a weapon, but right now, the words cost me.

  Seduction was the ultimate weapon, and intimacy was the key.

  If Gideon was becoming unhinged before, he looked maddening now.

  “What. Did. You. Say?” he asked through gritted teeth. Perhaps he was scared I would take back my request.

  This was a gift for me as much as it was for him. I opened my mouth but had to lick my lips since my mouth was still dry from being gagged.

  “I want all of you,” I whispered, feeling grateful for the fact that we were in the middle of the jungle and it was dark so he wouldn’t be able to see me for who I truly was.

  “Don’t play with me,” he groaned. “I won’t be able to control myself.”

  He was still kneeling above me. When I made a move to sit up, he moved back on his haunches. His hand came to my cheek, his knuckles brushing the tears that had spilled when he had his gun in my mouth.

  “Pain doesn’t scare me,” I told him as I made a move to remove my pants. Gideon watched as the black leather made its way down my thighs. When I went for my shirt, I said, “I don’t break easily.”

  My hands had barely made it to the hem when Gideon threw me back down on the mattress. No words were spoken as he finished removing my pants, leaving me exposed to him. He ignored that for now, his eyes unflinching, looking straight at me.

  “I waited years for this, Petal. I’m going to make you pay for making me wait for so long,” he vowed. Gideon grabbed the hem of my cotton shirt with both hands, and he ripped it off, leaving me in only my sports bra.
/>   My tarnished body was on display for him, wounds and scars that all told sordid stories of what I had done. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look disgusted; he still looked at me wonder in his eyes, and I wondered if he would still look at me that way when he saw the new addition to my back.

  His mouth came down to my navel. With his tongue, he traced the puckered skin, the scars that lay in between, and he kissed his way up my body. My hands fisted the flimsy sheets, forcing myself to lie still.

  It was too much.

  His words were cruel, but his lips were kind, a deadly combination that was going to kill me with time.

  When he got to zipper on my sports bra, he kissed below it on the skin, then looked at me as he finished baring my body for him.

  His hands swiped down my shoulders with gentle ease. They were smooth like silk, causing me to shiver. Once I was naked, he leaned back and removed his boxer briefs. The sounds of the jungle, the people patrolling outside were forgotten. Right now, it was only him and I.

  No past, no present or impeding betrayals—we were in the moment.

  “I don’t see the scars, the bullet nor knife wounds. I see you, and you’re fucking gorgeous,” he rasped before he took a pebbled nipple into his mouth.

  He lavished my breast, and I gave up the fight to hold myself back. My hands went behind his head, pulling his hair. I didn’t want sweet or soft kisses. I wanted to be devoured, consumed, something that sank into my skin and I felt in my bones. A feeling so powerful that it made me feel torn. I wanted pain, so when he was gone, it would haunt me and I could live with the regret of what I did to him.

  “Pozhaluysta,” I pleaded, and it was enough to make him lose it. He licked up my neck, then bit my chin. One of his hands came to my leg and wrapped it around his waist. His dick was hard and ready, grazing my entrance.

  “Bloody hell, woman,” he groaned, gazing down at me. “You’re a beauty, Petal, but that shit’s only skin-deep. Beautiful doesn’t mean it has to be pretty. Beauty isn’t superficial; it’s what’s beneath the skin, beneath the scars, beneath the abuse. Beautiful, it’s what’s left after all the ugly parts are stripped down, torn away, and the only thing left is the passion that drove you to survive. That’s fucking beautiful.”

  I didn’t even have time to process the words because he slammed onto his cock, stretching me with pain and pleasure. My mouth parted in a silent moan.

  He breathed heavily against my neck. “I fucking hate how I feel when I fuck you—” he spat as his hips slammed into me, trying to imprint me on the mattress. “—feels like finding my place in the world, knowing that when it’s all over I’ll be alone once more.”

  “Gid—” I didn’t get to finish saying his name because he was kissing me. My lips were on fire, the cut he had made earlier throbbing. The kisses burned, starting in my lips, spreading down to my core. This kiss was filled with want and dipped in blood—a vow on his end, and betrayal on mine.

  Gideon swallowed my moans. His hips held a brutal rhythm, and his beautiful whiskey eyes had a bit of mania in them. I’d never tell him, but I loved the way he gave himself entirely to me.

  My nails dug into his back; my back arched as the violent tidal wave of my release washed over me.

  “Gid,” I moaned into his mouth.

  He stopped kissing me and rose to hold on to my hips as he pounded his release in me. His hair was messy, and blood dripped from his lips, and he was still the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

  “You got your cunt fucked. That’s what you wanted from me, right? Go…leave.” He glared at me as he pulled away. He lay next to me, his chest rising and falling hard.

  Emotions were a weakness that got beat out of me from a young age, so I rarely felt them…and when I did, they scared the shit out of me. Because our bodies were side to side, when I moved, I felt him stop breathing. When I turned to my side to face him, he let out a relieved breath, but he was still pretending like he didn’t care whether I stayed or I left.

  Slowly, I rested my head on his shoulder where he had a tattoo of half a goddess and half death. My hand went to his stomach, tracing the hard edges of his abs and the lines of his tattoo. His body was covered in black ink, with no color. It was a sight to see the whole tattoo glory, something I never let myself see. I had enough of him imprinted on me. I didn’t need more, or it would kill me, but tonight I was going to force myself. Because this might be the last time I’d ever get to be close to him.

  “If it’s all right with you, may I stay?” I whispered the words, hating how they tasted on my tongue.

  Gideon gave a sharp intake of breath, not responding for a second. Then slowly, his hand slid down stopping briefly over the scars that had not been there last time, then he curved it to my waist and pressing my body to his. His other hand came to my chin, tilting my face so I could look at him.

  “I know you are up to something, Petal, and you’re using me… The thing is I don’t fucking care. So this is me giving you permission to fucking kill me, love.”

  Guilt wasn’t an emotion I felt often, and right now, it was crushing me. Bravery and deception—now those two I knew how to do, so I did them now.

  “The first time we met, you didn’t surprise me. I had heard your footsteps before you made it to the room. At any given moment, I could have escaped. I didn’t need to stay with you, but something in me wanted to stay.” The admission flowed smoothly. My heart was trying to stop me from making a mistake, but my mind was made up years ago, and one man wasn’t going to change that.

  “Through my darkest times, there’s been revenge, and then there’s been you.”

  The words had barely left my lips before Gideon was on top of me. His hand was at my throat, his hardness rubbing my leg.

  “All I’m getting from this, Petal, is that you’d been mine for a fucking long time.”

  Staring into his eyes, it killed me to answer. “You once forced me to make a vow in blood.” I brought palm up, the one he had cut a long time ago. He didn’t stop staring at me, but he licked the scar. “I’ve kept that vow.”

  “Fuck,” he groaned as he slid into me.

  My legs wrapped around his waist, my hands holding on to his strong shoulders. In one fluid movement, Gideon moved us so I was on top. My hands now rested on his chest as I started to move my hips.

  “I’m torn between tearing your pussy or worshiping it,” he confessed. “Now, fuck me.”

  So I did. I forced myself to look into his eyes, knowing this was set to kill me one day. Knowing that if he died, I would have to live with this regret for the rest of my life.

  To understand how I got to this place, we need to go back to the beginning, back to the unlucky moment Gideon and I crossed paths. It’s not pretty, nor a fairy tale. It’s a nightmare with pain and deception, but the thing about beauty is that it can be found anywhere, you just have to change your perspective. And mine was twisted and mangled. I saw the beauty in him.

  I moaned when I rocked my hips.

  “Shut the fuck up before I gag you again,” Gideon hissed. I loved that my pleasure was only for him.

  I bent to kiss his lips, my hands coming to his cheeks. He was handsome, he looked refined, but there was a madness to him that I loved.

  “Tear me up, mark me, make it so I never forget,” I whispered against his lips.

  I permitted him to kill me before I did the same to him.

  Past

  I have gunpowder in my chest instead of a heart now,

  And it escapes my lips shaped like a bullet

  With your name on it.

  Soft people become dangerous

  When you destroy the things they hold dearest.

  Gunpowder, Nikita Gill

  Three Years Ago

  Location: Chicago

  The world was full of monsters; you just had to know where to look for them. We didn’t hide in the shadows; we didn’t always lurk in the dark. We hid in plain sight, at bars, clubs, behind suits and fake smiles.
/>
  Officially, I was on a business trip from the organization I worked for. Unofficially, I was looking for a lost artifact. I smiled at the bartender, tilted my head to the side, and gave him a coy smile. He lapped it up. In my experience, all men were the same. All they cared about was your name, your age, or what sign you were. All they wanted to know was if you sucked dick or would lie back and spread your legs, and if he didn’t, then he was probably gay. There were no good men left in the world. Not saying that there weren’t any good women left, I just wasn’t one of them.

  “What can I get you, gorgeous?” he asked, giving me a flirty smile.

  I didn’t bother with dresses, nor showing my cleavage. Men fell at my feet either way. People said confidence spoke volumes, and maybe it did. I grabbed the cherry from the fruity drink I’d ordered and barely sipped. I opened my mouth and put the cherry in, watching the way his dark eyes followed my every move. I twirled the stem with my tongue, then opened my mouth, showing him the tied knot that was on my tongue.

  His eyes burned with lust.

  This was way too easy. The hard part was coming, so I got up from my seat, inching closer to him so he could hear me better. “Five hundred.”

  “Sweetheart, whatever you want, I’ll do it for free.”

  Internally I rolled my eyes, but my smile stayed as fake as his veneers. “I want to go to the lower level.”

  His smile stopped.

  Ah, there it was. So the lower level was here. Sometimes I surprised even myself. I was a wanderer in the world, not having a moral compass, no set north. Russia was what I called home whenever I got the chance, but Damian kept me all over the world. People thought the world was so vast that it would take a lifetime to explore it, but in reality, it was small, especially the hellish parts.

  “One thousand.” The smile dropped from my lips, getting tired of the charade. “If I were you, I would take it before I get in there one way or another, so what’s it going to take—some quick cash, or watch me barge in, wishing you were a little bit richer?”

 

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