Omens (The Dark in You Book 6)

by Suzanne Wright

  “The good stuff?”

  “Yes. All this talking is interfering with my plans.”

  “Hmm, what plans?”

  He nuzzled her neck. “Plans that involve you naked and coming hard for me.”

  Khloé almost shivered. Damn if her hormones didn’t do a mighty cheer. It was a little surprising her libido woke up, given they’d just been discussing some heavy stuff. But then, she had no actual defenses against the epitome of seduction, did she? That was what he was.

  He was also hurting—she could see it clear as day. Talking about all that crap had taken its toll on him. She wanted to make him forget it, wanted to help him shake it all off.

  Leaning into him, she said, “I’m totally game, just in case there was any doubt.”

  “There was no doubt.”

  “Cocky bastard.”

  His mouth, so hot and hungry, took hers. It was like every cell in her body ignited. Need—so hot and raw and primal—fired through her. She kissed him back, just as greedy. The growl that rattled his chest vibrated with power and a dark dominance.

  The kiss went on and on and on, turning her brain into pudding. Gripping her jaw to hold her still, he slanted his head and sank his tongue deeper into her mouth. He kissed her hard, stealing her breath. The feel of his blunt nails scraping her scalp made her groan. She liked the little sting.

  She tore her lips from his, gasping for breath. With a snarl, he grabbed her nape and took her mouth back; fucked it with his tongue until she was a pile of melted goo.

  Needing more of him, she snaked her hands under his tee and smoothed them up his chest, exploring all that hard, male muscle; feeling the power that purred beneath his skin and seemed to reach for her.

  He yanked off his tee and then pulled the tie out of her hair, letting her hair tumble down her back in sleek waves. “I want to feel your lips wrapped around my dick. Want to watch it disappear into your mouth again and again.” He scraped his teeth over her neck, scoring the skin. “You going to give me that?”

  “Keenan, I’m not fucking magic. There’s no way I’ll be able to deepthroat that monster.”

  He felt his lips twitch. “Not asking you to deepthroat me. Just want to feel your mouth on my cock.” He unbuttoned her fly. “Stand up and take your jeans and panties off. Good, now the rest. I want you naked.” Once she’d stripped and kicked her clothes aside, he lowered his zipper, let his dick spring free, and then spread his thighs. “Come here, baby. I want you on your knees in front of me.”

  She did as he asked and, no shyness, curled her fingers around his dick. The breath slammed out of his lungs as she squeezed him. “Yeah, like that,” he said. She fisted him tight as she pumped, her tongue flicking out to touch her lower lip. His gut clenched. “Suck.”

  She circled the broad tip of his dick with her thumb, smearing the drop of pre-come there. “Patience.” Her hot tongue licked his shaft from base to tip—it was like a lash of fire.

  He gripped her nape and gave it a cautioning squeeze. She rolled her eyes at the silent warning, but then she closed her mouth over the head of his cock and sucked, bathing him in liquid heat. “Yeah, baby, that’s what I need.”

  She sucked hard, hollowing her cheeks, gliding her tongue along the underside of his shaft. He was captivated by the sight of him disappearing into her mouth, over and over. Pure masculine possession lived and breathed inside him—a raw, relentless force that yanked every thought from his brain bar one: Mine.

  He’d never felt so possessive of anyone or anything. He hadn’t thought he had such a deep territorial streak in him. Maybe he hadn’t until Khloé came along. Maybe she sparked it to life.

  He groaned as he hit the back of her throat. She kept bopping her head up and down, keeping the suction perfectly tight. Right then, she was intoxicating his senses with her delectable taste, her sexy little moans, and the sight of her perfect mouth sucking him. It took everything he had not punch up his hips and fuck that mouth he’d fantasized about for years.

  A crushing, incessant urge to take her pounded through him so hard it was dizzying. Not yet. He wanted to blow his load down her throat first. He needed it. His demon needed it. “That’s it, suck me hard.”

  Without pausing, Khloé flicked her eyes to his, needing to see his expression. Sheer unadulterated pleasure was stamped into every line of his face. She gasped as a phantom finger fluttered over her slick folds.

  “I’m going to play with your pussy while you suck me off,” he said.

  Oh, Jesus. A phantom finger alternated between circling and flicking her clit, stoking the fire inside her. She kept sucking and licking, her lips stretched tight around him. Every time she moaned or whimpered, the long shaft jerked or throbbed.

  He sent telepathic whispers into her mind. Told her how much he loved her mouth, how much she pleased him, how badly he wanted to pour his come down her throat. He carved his fingers through her hair and fisted it. His hold was gentle yet screamed ownership.

  She moaned as a phantom finger slid through her folds and then dipped inside her. At the same time, his cock swelled, becoming impossibly thicker.

  “Swallow all of it, Khloé,” he growled. “Drink my come.” His hand tightened in her hair as he punched up his hips and exploded, his shaft pulsing with each blast of come. She swallowed it all and then sat back on her heels.

  His face was all languid and lazy, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Damn, you’re good with that mouth.”

  “Right back at you.”

  “Up here, baby. Straddle me again.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  In something of a sensual daze thanks to those phantom fingers, Khloé stood. “You’re still hard,” she noted as she straddled him. Yip-fucking-pee.

  He roughly squeezed her breast, his hold undeniably possessive. “I’m an incubus, baby. I can stay hard for as long as I want to.” He swooped down and latched onto her nipple, suckling hard.

  Khloé gripped his head. She really did love that mouth of his. “Keenan—” She gasped as two blunt fingers thrust inside her.

  “Slick already.” He withdrew his fingers and held them up to her face, all shiny and wet. “See?” He licked both fingers. “Hmm.” His steel-blue eyes glittered with so much heat and possession that it took her breath away. “I want you even wetter.”

  That oh-so-familiar aphrodisiac scent laced the air, turning it thick and sultry. She dug her fingertips into his upper arms, holding on for dear life as heat swept through her like a tidal wave—making her hard nipples throb, her aching breasts swell, and her pulsing clit scream to be touched.

  He splayed his hand over her throat, and his dark energy flooded her in an instant. He kept his mouth flush to hers, drawing every breath she released into his lungs, feeding on her own sexual energy.

  Meanwhile, his damn pheromones played havoc with her mind and body. Her composure flitted away, along with every sane thought in her brain. Right then, there was no thinking, only feeling.

  “I want you to ride me right here.” He lowered her, lining the head of his dick to the entrance of her pussy.

  Close to trembling with the electric anticipation that taunted her body, she reminded him, “Condom.”

  “Want to come inside you, baby. You on the pill?”

  She licked her lips. “Yes.”

  “Never went ungloved before. I always wore a condom.”

  “So why switch it up now?”

  “The others weren’t mine. You are.” He draped his arms over the back of the sofa. “Lower yourself on my cock. Slowly.”

  Khloé almost shivered. The note of pure, masculine demand played across her nerve-endings and made her lower stomach clench. She bore down, gasping as the broad head inched inside her, stretching her until it burned.

  “That’s it. Want you to feel every inch of me.”

  Every thick, long inch, she thought. Her inner muscles stretched and fluttered, showing a little resistance, but she kept on lowering herself, determined
to have him buried deep inside her. The bite of pain and the immense pressure of his size filling her only made it better.

  Once she was finally fully impaled on him, she let out a shaky breath. She felt every vein. Every ridge. Every throb. Every fast beat of his heart.

  Keeping her pace slow, she impaled herself on him over and over, flooded by feel-good chemicals and a desperate, unrelenting need for more. She tried to move faster, needing—

  He gave her ass a sharp slap, and her pussy clamped down on him. “No. Not ready for you to fuck me hard yet.” He lazily slid her up his cock. “Keep it slow. You’ll be rewarded,” he added, his eyes smoldering with such carnal promise, her pussy quaked.

  “You’re an asshole,” she croaked.

  He draped his arms over the back of the sofa again. “I know.”

  Well, then, good. Digging her fingertips into the smooth flesh of his wide shoulders, she went back to impaling herself slowly. He didn’t release her gaze for even a moment, as if he didn’t want to miss even a flicker of emotion that glimmered there.

  When she gave him a lazy, spiral, downward thrust, Keenan grunted and fisted his hands. He itched to touch her, palm her gorgeous breasts, tangle his fingers in all that glorious hair. But he kept his hands where they were, not wanting it to end.

  The roasting hot clasp of her inner muscles was almost excruciatingly tight. He loved that he was taking her skin to skin, feeling everything. Loved the way she stared right at him, her eyes glazed, her lips parted. The desperation flickering in those smoky eyes twisted his gut and tightened his balls.

  Everything about her drove him and his demon wild—they were hooked on her, pure and simple. The entity pushed him to take over; to fuck her with hard, territorial thrusts that would drive home who she belonged to.

  Most of all, it wanted Keenan to officially claim her. Keenan wanted it just as much, but he sensed she still wasn’t ready for that yet. He didn’t want to do anything to scare her off or make her retreat.

  “You’ve been a very good girl, haven’t you?” Keenan grabbed a fistful of her hair and snatched her head to the side. He put his mouth to her ear. “Ready to fuck me harder now?” He punched his hips upwards, giving her a rough, shallow thrust.

  “You know I am.”

  “Then do it.”

  Thank fucking God. Khloé didn’t hesitate. She rode him hard, feeling close to drunk on the sexual endorphins pumping through her.

  So many sensations assailed her as his phantom hands drove her insane—they plumped her breasts, pinched her nipples, squeezed her throat, toyed with her clit.

  Shaking with the avalanche of sensation he was subjecting her to, she kept riding him hard. She desperately wanted to come but couldn’t. Not until he let her. It was like having an elastic band wrapped around all the tension inside her, keeping it trapped. She couldn’t take much more.

  “Keenan,” she rasped, her mouth dry. “I need—”

  “Look at you … eyes all sex-drunk. Lips swollen. Nipples hard. Tits swaying.” He teasingly skimmed his fingers over the swells of her breasts; the calloused pads of his fingers felt like flickers of fire to her super-sensitized nerve-endings. “Don’t know what’s hotter. Watching you ride me, or watching you suck me off.”

  “Make me come.” Her voice cracked.

  “Not yet.”

  She hissed. “You’re a fucking prick, Keenan!” She paused with only the head of his cock inside her. “I’m not moving until you promise you’ll make me come.”

  A chill brushed over her skin as his eyes bled to black. The demon stared at her, not looking all too happy with her. Its large hands snapped tight around her, spanning her narrow waist.

  It mercilessly yanked her down, impaling her on its dick, stuffing her full. “Now I take you.” It pumped its hips, drilling into her, slamming deep. And, oh God, that felt so good.

  Her own demon liked how rough and demanding it was. Liked that it so boldly took what it wanted. The entity found it a total turn-on.

  Wound so tight she was close to sobbing, she held on tight, enjoying the ride … right up until the flesh beneath its hands started to prickle and burn. Realization hit her like a slap. She widened her eyes. “No—”

  “Fucking yes,” it growled, ruthlessly slamming her down on its cock while still thrusting its hips upwards. It took her mouth, rough and savage. The demon was beyond brutal. It demanded everything from her. The skin beneath its hands kept on burning yet, somehow, it felt unbelievably good—there was no way to explain it.

  Black eyes once more became blue as the demon subsided. Keenan’s hands gripped her ass as he impaled her on him again and again, rough and frantic, punching up his hips each time. She wanted him this way; liked it. Liked seeing the cool, controlled surface he presented to the world completely obliterate.

  Her breath caught as his dick began to swell. The tension inside her built once more, and anticipation buzzed through her as she felt the elastic band around all that tension loosen.

  “Come for me,” he ordered. And then the elastic band snapped.

  Her release thundered through her in violent waves, bowing her back and trapping a scream in her throat. Her pussy squeezed and quaked around him, milking him.

  Keenan grunted. “Fuck, yeah.” He forcefully slammed her onto his cock one last time and detonated. Jet after jet of hot come burst out of him.

  Limp and sated, Khloé leaned into him, her chest burning for air. Yow-damn-za. She’d never had an orgasm that intense before in her life; hadn’t even known it was possible.

  He palmed her nape and dropped a kiss on her hair. “You good?”

  “Just riding my buzz.” She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the way he dragged the pads of his fingers over whatever part of her body he could reach, as if he was tracing and mapping her.

  When those fingers lightly danced over the suddenly sensitive skin on her waist, Khloé sat up. “Your demon branded me,” she remembered. She glanced down, examining the tattoo-like brand. It was … well, it was pretty. And bold as hell.

  His finger traced the thin, intricate pattern that spanned her stomach from hip to hip like a belt. The occasional “K” was woven inside the pattern. “I like it,” he said.

  She met his gaze, searching for any signs that he was unhappy with his demon’s decision to mark her. When their entities were possessive of someone, they sometimes branded their skin. Those brands would fade once the entities lost interest. “You do?”

  “Yes. My demon has good taste.”

  “You’re not at all mad?”

  He frowned. “Why would I be?”

  “Some people don’t like it when their demons mark others.”

  “If it had branded anyone other than you, I would have been pissed. How does your demon feel about it?”

  “It generally balks at possessiveness, but it’s rather pleased.”

  “Good, then all is fine.” He swatted her ass. “Shower.”

  She blinked at the abrupt change of subject. Apparently, he truly wasn’t bothered by the brand.

  Keeping hold of her, he stood and carried her through the apartment, giving her glimpses of the other rooms. Her brows lifted when they entered the master bedroom. It was as spacious as every other room in the apartment, and she particularly liked the French doors and small terrace.

  The off-white shade of paint on the walls made her think of clotted cream, and it matched the color of the lush bedding. It also went nicely with the smooth pine flooring and the built-in pine wardrobe. The rest of the furniture was just as sleek and modern.

  He pressed a button on the hi-tech sensor on the wall near an abstract painting, and the ceiling spotlights instantly dimmed.

  He padded into the attached private bathroom, which was just as stylish and contemporary. She liked the white/gold color scheme and the luxury walk-in shower.

  Pausing, he lowered her to the floor. It was only when she looked up that she saw his gaze had turned inward—a classic sign that he was talk
ing to someone telepathically. Finally, he blinked, and his eyes cleared.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “That was Knox. He outbid everyone on the auction. The blade now belongs to Jolene.”

  Satisfaction flared inside her. Khloé smirked. “And it’ll soon be buried in Enoch’s precious little black heart.” She could. Not. Wait.

  “That’s the plan. I think we need to celebrate.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. After our shower, I’m going to lay you on my bed and make you come again and again, until you can’t take anymore.”

  “I’m up for that.”

  *

  A few days later, Raini rested her coffee takeout cup in the front passenger seat’s cupholder. “I get that people will do irrational things when deep in grief. But keeping a resurrected dead relative in your basement or outhouse goes beyond irrational.”

  Khloé nodded, switching gears. “I was really hoping Enoch was lying when he said that members of our lair hired him to reanimate their deceased loved ones. According to Grams, they hadn’t known their relative would be nothing but a walking corpse. Enoch allegedly made it sound like it was another state of life.”

  “But they had to have realized that was untrue when the spiritual echoes faded from their relative’s body.”

  “They did, but Enoch refused to undo what he’d done, and they were too scared to ask Jolene for help in case she went psycho on their asses.”

  The corpses had since been destroyed and reburied, just as the others had.

  “Promise me that if anyone tries to have my dead body reanimated, you’ll step in and put a stop to that shit,” said Raini.

  Khloé coughed around a dry throat. Her mouth felt all tacky and dry. “I promise. But I want the same promise right back.”

  “I solemnly swear I won’t allow it.” Raini grimaced. “Ugh, this song is the height of annoying.” She turned off the radio. “You know, you don’t look so good.”

  Khloé didn’t feel so good. As if the cough and dry chest weren’t annoying enough, fatigue badgered her every minute of the day. Her eyes felt dry and itchy, and it took everything she had not to rub them. The headaches came and went, and they always made her want to curl up in a ball and drown out the rest of the world.