Omens (The Dark in You Book 6)

by Suzanne Wright

  Khloé gasped as she suddenly found her front pinned to the wall. Keenan pressed himself so tightly to her back that his weight held her in place. His hands were now wrapped around her wrists, keeping her own hands high above her head. Still, she struggled—which did nothing other than make the thick shaft in his jeans jerk against her back.

  “Shh,” he soothed, his warm breath tickling her neck. The little hairs on her nape rose, and a slight shiver made its way down her spine.

  Frowning, she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Did you just shush me?” Like she was five?

  “As I see it, you have two choices,” he said, transferring both her wrists to one hand. “Choice number one: I walk out that door right now, and we both hope that this thing between us fades on its own at some point.” He slid his free hand down her arm, along her side, and then cupped her hip. “Choice number two: I fuck you. Hard. Deep. I give us what we both need, and maybe then we can get some fucking peace. You choose.”

  Utterly blindsided by his words, Khloé could only stare at him. Jesus, he was serious. It wasn’t exactly flattering to hear that he wanted to fuck her so he could have “some peace.” Essentially, he hoped to rid his system of the attraction they’d been wrestling with for years. But, really, she could see some appeal in that. It certainly was not fun to crave someone you couldn’t have. It would be nice if those cravings went away.

  Plus, a night of mind-blowing sex would certainly be welcome—she would bet that Keenan could quite easily deliver that. And it would be a damn nice memory to savor. Her demon was all for it.

  Still, she found herself hesitating. It was highly possible that he’d later condemn himself for sleeping with his Prime’s cousin. Hell, he might even treat Khloé to one of those “it was a mistake” talks. Then she’d have to pop his head like an oversized zit.

  He caught her earlobe with his teeth and softly suckled on it. “Well, what will it be? Hmm?”

  She licked her lips. “Not sure it’s a good idea, Don Juan. You’ll regret it afterward.” She almost flinched as sharp teeth grazed her neck hard enough to sting.

  “The only thing I’ll regret is not doing this sooner. Spent too long jacking off to the thought of having you. I want the real thing. You going to give it to me? You going to let me fuck you hard and raw?”

  Well, she was a big fan of hard and raw, so it was certainly tempting. Her body was totally up for it. She’d wondered more than once whether or not he’d be able to fit the full length of his dick inside her. She wanted to find out. Wanted to know if sex between them was as good as their chemistry hinted at.

  He nipped her jaw. “Tell me you don’t want to know how it feels to have me inside you,” he said with a soft growl she felt in her core. “You can’t, can you?”

  No, she damn well couldn’t. And she knew she’d never find herself in this situation again. If she sent him away, he’d never make another move. Then she’d always wonder just how good it could have been.

  “If you’re absolutely sure—and I mean sure—you won’t regret this tomorrow, I’ll go for option two.”

  Satisfaction flooded Keenan’s veins, ramping up the need already pounding through him. “Oh, I’m sure.”

  His demon settled, certain that she wasn’t going anywhere. It wanted him to take her there and then, but Keenan didn’t want to rush this. He’d waited too long for it. He wanted to make this so good for her that she’d never forget it. Never forget him.

  “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the second I met you. Did you know that?”

  Her breath hitched. “I do now.”

  He traced the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue. “Shall I tell you what I’m going to do to you? I’m going to fuck you with my fingers until you come. Then I’m going to lick your pussy clean—oh yeah, I can smell how wet you are. And then I’m going to give us both what we’ve wanted for far too fucking long.”

  Sliding his hand from her hip to her stomach, Keenan kept her hips flush with his as he pulled back an inch or so. “First, I need to make one thing clear, Khloé.” He snaked his hand under her dress and dipped it just enough into her panties for him to circle her clit with his finger. His cock jerked at her soft moan. “And it needs to be very, very clear.”

  “What?” she rasped, straining against his hold to arch into his touch.

  He thrust his hand all the way into her panties and cupped her pussy. “This is mine tonight. You are mine tonight.” If he could only have her for a single night, he’d at least fucking own her the entire time. Own her with his fingers, his tongue, his dick. “We clear?”

  Khloé swallowed. Why that low-pitched, commanding tone tightened her nipples and made her lower stomach clench, she had no clue. “Uh-huh.”

  Humming in approval, he slipped his finger between her slick folds. “That’s my girl. Now feel what I do to you.”

  Closing her eyes, she bit her lip as his skilled fingers began to drive her out of her mind. They went to work on her slit, stroking and teasing. They taunted her clit, flicking and pinching. And just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, they thrust into her pussy.

  He groaned. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

  Oh God, and now he was pumping those fingers hard into her pussy. She rocked into his hand over and over, grinding against the heel of his palm. Finally, she imploded with a loud cry, her knees buckling, feeling his dick throb against her back.

  “Dreamed of doing that.” Withdrawing his hand from her panties, he spun her to face him and took her mouth again. The kiss was hot and savage, all tongue and teeth.

  She sensed then that there’d be no gentle, easy seduction. No soft words or coaxing. He meant to take what he wanted. Well, that was fine with her. Being ravished was always fun.

  Not all that good at waiting for what she wanted, Khloé tugged at his fly. A hot, hungry growl poured down her throat and lifted the hairs on her arms. His cock sprang out and, just, wow. It was hot and hard and so damn big.

  Should she touch it? Should she lick it? Should she feed it a peanut?

  There was a lot of yanking and pulling as they shed each other’s clothes. Naked, she trailed her hands down his chest, almost shivering at the delicious feel of all that sleek skin and pure male muscle. She gripped his shaft hard, liking the feel of it throbbing—

  She blinked as she suddenly found herself sprawled on the floor with Keenan kneeling between her thighs. Hmm, this seemed promising.

  Curling his powerful body over hers, he planted a hand either side of her head and then began to lick, kiss, and scrape his teeth over her neck. She bucked her hips, trying to grind her clit against his cock, but he edged out of reach. Ugh.

  Khloé inhaled sharply as he sucked one nipple into his mouth, his hand plumping her breast. He licked and suckled—sometimes slow and soft, sometimes hard and rough. She shuddered when he moved on to her neglected breast, teasing and tasting and touching. Every time he sucked or bit her nipple, she somehow felt it in her pussy.

  Arching into him, she gripped his hair. But the strands slipped through her fingers as he slid down her body. Then his mouth was on her. Oh, Jesus. That fabulous tongue licked and swirled and plunged, making her shake and writhe and moan.

  She could feel another orgasm creeping up on her. Could feel the tension building and building, winding her so damn tight. And then she shattered, crying out as her body arched and shook.

  Collapsing against the floor, she opened her eyes. Kneeling between her thighs once more, he snatched a condom out of his jeans’ pocket and swiftly donned it. His shimmering blue gaze snapped to hers, glittering with so much heat and … something close to menace. Oh yeah, he was hanging by the thinnest of threads.

  Keenan grabbed her legs, yanked her closer, and then roughly pushed her spread thighs up towards her chest. Usually, he had no problem keeping a woman dangling on the edge of an orgasm for hours. Desire never rode him hard. Desperation never seized him. Anticipation never filled him so fully that he couldn’t hol
d back any longer.

  Now, nothing mattered but burying himself inside Khloé. She gasped when he fed her the broad head of his cock. His shaft throbbed with the overwhelming urge to jackhammer into her over and over. Some-fucking-how, he resisted. She was so small and slight, and he worried he’d hurt her.

  “Look at me,” he ground out. He wanted to stare into her eyes, wanted to be sure she wasn’t in any pain. He also wanted to see them glaze over with pleasure as he fucked her.

  Grasping onto what little control he had, Keenan sank inside her slow and smooth. Fuck, he’d never been inside a pussy so goddamn tight. If she wasn’t so slick, he’d struggle to enter her.

  When he finally bottomed out, she let out a long, shaky breath and double-blinked. Pain pinched her brow, and she squirmed slightly.

  “Shh, you’re okay, I got you.” He stroked her inner thighs, humming. “You took all of me like a good girl. I knew you would.”

  “Jesus, you’re deep. My womb is like, ‘What the fuck is in me?’” A laugh would have bubbled out of him if he wasn’t grinding his teeth against the urge to pound into her. He slowly pulled back, leaving only the head of his dick inside her, and then he slammed home with such force she bucked beneath him. He did it again and again, ignoring his demon’s demand for him to pick up his pace.

  “Harder,” she rasped. “I won’t break.”

  “Don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” She licked her lips. “Besides, I like a little pain.”

  He closed his eyes, pausing mid-thrust. “Fuck, Khloé, you can’t say shit like that.” Not when he was precariously balancing on the knife-edge of what self-discipline he had left—and there wasn’t much.

  He’d never in his life felt like this. Desperate. Frantic. Shaken by the sheer intensity of the need flaring through him.

  “Harder,” she repeated. “If it hurts, if I can’t take it, I’ll let you know. Come on, you know you want to.”

  He sank fully into her again, and her pussy rippled. “Jesus, Khloé, how can you be so tight?”

  “I’m a virgin.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Kidding. Sorry, there’s been other guys before you.” Her smile was all mischief. “And that just makes you want to fuck me so hard I’ll never forget the feel of you, doesn’t it?”

  Yeah, it damn well did. Tricky little witch. He pulled back again. “You sure that’s what you want?”

  “Do I look unsure?” she snapped.

  “No, baby, you look hungry for more of my dick.” And so he gave it to her. His control a distant memory, he fucked her brutally at a merciless pace. Honest to God, it was like there was a fever in his blood.

  Drowning in the hot, silken feel of her, he kept on driving hard and fast. He couldn’t ease up. Couldn’t slow down. He could only pound deep into her pussy over and over, driven by a need so basic and vicious he was helpless against it.

  He wanted her to feel branded. Possessed. Owned. Greedy for more. He wanted no other man to ever again be good enough for her. Which made him a dick, but there it was.

  Sexual energy swirled around her, sweet and spicy and mouth-watering. He breathed it in, let it fill his lungs. Fuck, the taste of her … no other beat it.

  Still thrusting fast and deep, he grabbed her hand and splayed it over her stomach. “Can you feel me? Can you feel how deep I am?”

  “Yes,” she hissed. “God, don’t stop, I’m gonna come.”

  She wasn’t the only one. He felt the telling tingle at the base of his spine, knew he wouldn’t last much longer. How could he? Those throaty fucking moans were killing him, and the inferno-hot grasp of her pussy was so gorgeously tight it was also pure torture.

  He draped himself over her and gave her his weight. “I want to feel your pussy clamp down on my cock. I want to shoot my come so deep inside you, you’ll swear you can taste it.”

  She clung to his back, pricking him with her nails. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  He slipped his hand between their bodies and parted her slick folds. “Come.” He brutally rammed into her, hitting her clit with his dick again and again.

  Her body shook, her head fell back, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Keenan spat a curse as her hot, snug pussy contracted around him. His thrusts turned rough and erratic as he jackhammered into her over and over. Then he drove his swelling cock balls-deep inside her and exploded so intensely he could swear he saw stars.

  Feeling as pliant as melted wax, Khloé let her arms flop to her sides. Yowza. Just yowza.

  They lay there for a few minutes, shaking with aftershocks and striving to catch their breath. Finally, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his back—she felt his reluctance to move, and it made her demon smug.

  “Fuck, I didn’t mean to be that rough. Did I hurt you?”

  Khloé looked at him, knowing she wore a lazy, sated expression. “I look in pain to you?”

  He didn’t respond to the rhetorical question. He merely stood upright and held out his hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Her body ached in some very interesting places, but she liked it.

  His gaze raked over her, but there was no heat this time. His expression was carefully blank. She could almost see him pulling in, pulling away, making sure she understood it was just sex and that he’d meant it when he said there’d be no repeat.

  Khloé almost rolled her eyes. Guys were always so sure that women would get “attached.” It was kind of narcissistic, really.

  She hadn’t once doubted that he meant what he’d said. Nor had she read anything into what just happened. But the sudden remoteness in his manner chilled her all the same. Her demon glared at him, itching to do something that would snap him out of it.

  “Bathroom?” he asked.

  “The downstairs one is to the left of the kitchen.” Watching his naked ass stride into the bathroom, she almost hummed. Well, it was a very nice image. One she wouldn’t see again. But that was okay. Really. Truly.

  She reached for her clothes. By the time he reappeared from the bathroom, having disposed of the condom, she’d slipped her dress and panties back on.

  He pulled on his own clothes without a word and then turned to her, clenching his fists … as if not trusting that he wouldn’t make a grab for her. His expression might be blank, but it was clear to her that he didn’t want to leave—his reluctance was right there in his body language. That made her feel a little better, but her demon was still in a funk.

  Seconds ticked by, and then he cleared his throat. “Lock up after me.” He left without a second glance. How nice.

  *

  Every house she passed looked the same. Plain and sterile with a white, rusty car in the driveway and a small, neglected lawn. No matter how far or how fast Khloé walked along the footpath, she couldn’t seem to get closer to the house on the end of the street. It always remained out of reach, just like the woman who resided in it.

  Khloé dipped her hand in her pocket to feel for the house key. It wasn’t there. She’d just have to ring the doorbell. Sometimes Penelope answered, sometimes she didn’t. It depended how much Bourbon she’d—

  A graying, smirking, suited-up guy appeared a few feet in front of Khloé. She stopped walking. Enoch. Not good. “Jolene is looking for you.”

  “Yes, I know.” He glanced around. “Such a dull, inane dream for someone so full of life and energy.”

  “And just what the fuck do you want?”

  He laughed, delighted. “And there’s that typical Wallis attitude. But then, all imps are full of snark and sass, aren’t they?”

  Well, yeah.

  “Your grandmother should have known better than to cross me.”

  Khloé rolled her eyes. Like that made him special. Her family members crossed people all the time.

  “She’ll pay for that. But not by my hand. You know, losing a person you love is an agony like no other. It steals your breath, pounds your soul, drags you down so low you can’t se
e a way back up. Your grandmother’s going to feel that same pain when I kill you. I would have killed her daughter to repay her for killing mine. But it’s partly your fault that Molly is in that grave, so I’ll destroy you instead. Then I’ll have you kill Jolene.” His eyes hardened, but his smirk widened. “Come, walk with me.”

  Her brows drew together as the air around her thickened until it felt like there was a weight on her shoulders. A weight that seemed to be pushing her deeper and deeper into … something. Her surroundings blurred, and the colors mashed together like a pastel painting. Only he remained clear.

  He held out his hand. “Come. I can help you reach your mother’s house. That is where you’re heading, isn’t it? We’ll go there together. Maybe we’ll even find her inside. Maybe she’ll even be sober. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  Khloé pressed a hand to her chest. The thick air she’d inhaled was like a pressure inside her ribcage. A pressure that was building and building, inflating her lungs like they were balloons.

  “Come,” he ordered, flexing the hand he held out. Impatience shimmered in his gaze. “Don’t resist. Just obey. Just—”

  Khloé’s eyes flipped open—it was a move that almost hurt, since her eyelids felt so damn heavy. The darkness of her bedroom greeted her. Maybe it was a noise, she wasn’t sure, but something had wrenched her out of a deep, fucked-up sleep.

  Tensing, she reached out with her psychic senses. Her pulse skittered when she found two other minds. Demonic minds. Both felt wrong somehow.

  She kicked off the bedcovers and, silent as always, snapped out her wings. She flapped them hard once, making her body zoom upwards. She plastered her palms and the soles of her feet to the ceiling and hung there like a spider—an ability that awesomely freaked out Ciaran; she’d pounced on him from above plenty of times over the years when they were kids. And adults, if she was honest.

  Khloé had expected the intruders to stealthily make their way through her house. They didn’t. Floorboards creaked, furniture was jostled, and doors were shoved open. And then two people barged into her room, their movements awkward and clunky.