Omens (The Dark in You Book 6)

by Suzanne Wright

She tasted relief, triumph, and smugness. Tasted a primal possession that she knew was riding him hard. She sure hoped he’d ride her hard.

  He slowly lowered the zipper of her jeans. “I can smell how wet you are.”

  Explicit image after explicit image shot to the forefront of her mind while he quickly stripped her of her clothes. At the same time, a phantom tongue licked at her nipples.

  She inhaled a shaky breath. “Keenan.”

  “Ah, there’s my pussy.” He drove his finger inside, groaning when she tightened around them. “Missed this.”

  “Seriously, Keenan, you need to do something. You put the ache there, now deal with it.” That sounded petulant even to her.

  His free hand closed over her aching breast and squeezed just right. The finger inside her swirled. “Tell me what you want, Khloé.”

  “You know.”

  “I know you want to come. But how shall I make you come? With my abilities? With my fingers? With my mouth? With my cock? Tell me what you want.”

  She hissed out a breath. “I don’t care, just make me come.”

  He pushed her thighs further apart, dropped to his knees, and clamped his mouth around her pussy.

  Oh, God, yes. She gripped his hair for dear life as he ate her out, using that talented tongue to push her closer and closer to coming. But she didn’t come. Couldn’t. Not until he let her.

  Wound so tight it was almost painful, Khloé tugged on his hair in demand, shamelessly pulling his face closer. He plunged his tongue so deep her head fell back. “Now, now, now.” And then the orgasm crashed into her like a freight train, yanking her under, making her shake and cry out.

  Once she’d finally pulled herself together, she opened her eyes just in time to see him stand and whip off his T-shirt. She swallowed at the sight of all that hard, male muscle. It was criminal that he looked that good. Criminal. But as that scorching hot body now belonged only to her, she was fine with it.

  He swiped his tongue over his lower lip. “Nothing tastes better than you,” he said, his voice thick and deep with a raw hunger that mirrored her own. “Turn around and bend over.”

  Just the phrase she wanted to hear. Khloé did as he asked, gripping the arm of the sofa. She heard a zipper lower. Felt his cock slap her ass as it sprang out of his jeans.

  Her heart pounded. Her breaths started coming faster. Her body went tight as a bow with anticipation.

  Her skin felt too hot, too sensitive. He’d made her come, yes, but the orgasm hadn’t completely sated her—he hadn’t let it, wanting her to need more.

  Khloé gasped as the thick tip of his cock inched into her pussy. Her inner muscles gave a little resistance, but he relentlessly pushed his way inside, mercilessly stretching her.

  Keenan slowly pulled back until only the broad head was inside her. “You feel so fucking good.” He smoothly drove deep, groaning through gritted teeth at the feel of all that tight, wet heat sheathing him. It was like being squeezed by a slick, blazing hot fist. His demon loved it. Loved that she’d accepted their claim on her.

  The sexual energy pouring off her filled him. Invigorated him. Rushed straight to his dick.

  In the grip of a carnal desire that inflamed him both inside and out, he gave her another achingly slow thrust, wanting her to really feel every inch of him. Wanting her to feel branded to the bone.

  “I’m not looking for soft and slow, Don Juan,” she snarked. “Harder.”

  He raised his brow. “Now that’s not my name, is it?”

  “Suits you, though.”

  Feeling his mouth twitch, he gave her another lazy thrust. She hissed at him over her shoulder. “I said, harder.”

  “Say my name, and I’ll give you what you want.”

  “Oh my God, just fuck me!”

  He leaned over and licked the back of her shoulder. “You’re not going to have the control when we’re in bed, baby. It won’t happen. You already know that. Now …” He fisted her hair and yanked her head back. “Say my fucking name.”

  “Keenan,” she ground out.

  Releasing her hair, he splayed one hand on her back and gripped her hip with the other. “Good girl. Now you get what you want.” Keeping her pinned in place, he rode her hard, evoking every response that her body had to give.

  There was nothing gentle about the way he took her. He didn’t feel gentle. He felt frantic, feverish, possessive.

  “Feel me, Khloé. Feel my cock slamming into you. Owning you.” He savagely took her, relishing the feel of her tight muscles sucking at his shaft, as if to hold him inside. “Love how greedy your pussy is for me.”

  Her inner muscles rippled, and hot liquid drenched him. Fuck.

  A slave to the primal drive to jackhammer into her, Keenan slammed hard and deep again and again, losing himself in her. With each breath he took, he filled his lungs with the cock-hardening scent of her need; he drank in the succulent, spicy taste of the sexual energy spilling from her. It made his demon close to drunk.

  “You love getting fucked by my cock, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” rasped Khloé, holding tight to the arm of the sofa as he ruthlessly powered into her. The feel of his fat dick slicing through her super-sensitized inner muscles was sheer heaven.

  She tried throwing her hips back to meet each thrust, but he held her still, forcing her to take only what he gave her—something that totally flipped her demon’s switch. All Khloé could do was moan and whimper as he possessed and used and claimed her body like he had every right. It was exactly what she’d granted him.

  A cool draft hit her back, and then his thrusts changed; they became rougher, aggressive, almost feral. And she knew she was getting fucked by his demon. It told her she was theirs, made for them, and that they’d never let her go.

  Over and over Keenan and the entity switched, taking turns fucking her body. No, claiming it. She’d be sore tomorrow for sure, because the demon was pitiless in its intent to make her feel utterly branded.

  Feeling her orgasm creep up on her, she dug her fingertips into the sofa’s arm. “I’m gonna come.”

  Phantom sensations suddenly swamped her—tongues lashing her nipples, teeth biting her breasts, a thumb pressing down on her clit, a wet finger probing the bud of her ass. The assault to her body was too much; the pleasure was too all-consuming.

  “Come,” Keenan ordered.

  Violent wave after violent wave of sheer bliss washed over and through her, making her body shatter into a million pieces. Her eyes went blind. Her head shot up as she screamed.

  Behind her, Keenan went wild, hammering into her so hard it jolted the sofa. His cock swelled impossibly as he jammed it so fucking deep and exploded with a growl of her name.

  *

  Sprawled flat on her stomach on the bed, Khloé opened her eyes to peek at Keenan. He was lying on his side, mapping her back with the pads of his fingers, looking more peaceful than she’d ever seen him. Which made her imp nature shake its hands in gleeful anticipation of just how entertaining it would be to poke at him. But Khloé shoved it aside. Later. She’d torment him later.

  They’d gravitated from the living room to the shower, where he’d fucked her against the tiled wall. Then they’d tumbled into bed, where he’d taken her yet again. The guy was insatiable, and that was not something she saw any need to complain about.

  “You’re quiet,” she said.

  His eyes briefly slid to hers. “I’m busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Indulging myself.” He traced the bumps of her spine. “I like touching you. Spent a long time fighting the need to do it. Now that I don’t have to anymore, I’m never going to.”

  Well, that was fine with her. “All right.”

  “How do you get your skin this soft?”

  “Soaking in the blood of virgins.”

  His mouth twitched. “I can see how that would work.”

  “I highly recommend trying it. Though results may vary.”

  He gently tugged the t
ie out of her hair, letting the thick strands flow over her back. He bunched his hand in it, looking as intrigued as a cat with a ball of yarn. “Love your hair.”

  “Why, thank you. I grow it myself.” She let her eyes fall shut as he massaged her head with just the right amount of pressure. The feel of his fingertips digging, kneading, and gliding along her scalp felt heavenly. She could easily drift off to sleep like this, but she had an important question to ask first.

  She met his gaze. “Now that you’re a lot calmer, are you going to tell me what the bear shifter said?”

  He sighed. “He says that no shifter healer will be able to help you. They can heal wounds, but not sicknesses. But that doesn’t mean we need to give up, Khloé. Just because shifters can’t help doesn’t mean other preternatural breeds can’t.”

  Although disappointment flooded her, she said, “I know that, and I have no intention of admitting defeat.”

  He dropped a kiss on her hair. “Good.”

  Hearing her phone beep, she grabbed it from the nightstand and read the text. A smile tugged at her mouth.

  “Who is it?” asked Keenan.

  “God, you’re nosy. It’s Teague. He’s checking to see how I’m doing, and he’s invited me to the racetrack on Saturday to watch his demon compete.” She loved the tracks.

  “He won’t like that I’ve claimed you.”

  No, he wouldn’t … which reminded her that she’d need to tell him herself so that he didn’t find out from others. “Neither will Thea.”

  “The difference is, I couldn’t give a fuck what she thinks about anything. Teague matters to you.”

  Khloé bit her lip. “Are you sure she doesn’t mean anything to you anymore? She talked as if you guys were fated. Kept saying you’d had ‘something special.’ She’s convinced you can get it back.”

  “I cared about her at one time, but those feelings just … died. She killed them. I look at her, and I feel nothing. My demon has no time or patience for her. The fucked-up thing about me is that I can shut people out so easily if they betray or hurt me. It’s like a switch gets flipped, and it numbs whatever I’m feeling.”

  It sounded like a self-protective measure to her. The thought that he’d subconsciously developed one just about broke her heart. Wanting to lighten the mood, she asked, “I didn’t flip that switch even once, despite my best efforts to rile you?”

  The corner of his mouth hitched up. “You push plenty of my buttons, but never that one. You managed to work your way under my skin—it didn’t matter how hard I fought it; you made a place for yourself there without even trying. I was determined to find a way under yours.”

  “You found it,” she admitted in a whisper.

  His eyes flared, and then he smiled. “I know. It’s a good thing, because it makes us even.” He smoothed his hand down her belly, over her navel, and cupped her pussy. “All mine.” He thrust a finger inside her and groaned. “I can feel my come in you.”

  She licked her lips as he began to fuck her with his finger. “You’re gonna get me all hot and bothered if you keep that up.”

  “Good. I want you again.”

  “I’ve got to get ready for work.”

  “I won’t let you be late.” Nipping and kissing her neck, he kept on pumping his finger inside her, building the tension, dragging her into a realm of pure sensation where she lost all sense of time and—

  Her phone rang, snapping her out of the moment. It had slipped out of her hand and was resting on the covers.

  Stilling his talented finger, Keenan picked up the cell and said, “It’s Teague; you should answer it. He’ll be worried if you don’t.” He swiped his thumb across the screen and then handed her the phone.

  She took it and said—well, croaked, “Hello?”

  “Why didn’t you text me back?” Teague demanded.

  “I wasn’t ignoring you; I just needed a minute.”

  “You took more than a minute. I panicked, thinking something might have happened to you.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m just kind of in the middle of something.” She widened her eyes at Keenan when he began pumping his finger inside her again. Stop, she mouthed, but he didn’t.

  “What are you doing that’s more important than replying to your anchor’s message?” sniped Teague.

  “Um … you don’t really want to know.” She glared at Keenan and mouthed, Seriously, stop.

  Keenan withdrew his finger ever so slowly, but then he rolled her onto her back and slid down her body. Oh, fuck.

  “Why wouldn’t I want to know?” asked Teague.

  She almost gasped as Keenan’s swiped his tongue through her folds. She gripped his hair and tugged, but he didn’t move away. He lavished attention on her clit and folds with that blessed tongue.

  “Khloé, answer me,” said Teague. “What’s going on?”

  Keenan looked at her, his eyes twinkling. “Don’t forget to share our news with him, baby.” Then he went back to toying with her clit.

  “Did I just hear the incubus?” asked Teague—as a hellbeast, his hearing was very acute. “What does he mean by ‘news’? What news, Khloé?”

  Her hips bucked when Keenan suckled on her clit. Her eyes almost rolled back into her head. “Um, well … can we talk about this later?”

  “No, I want to know now. What. News?”

  A phantom tongue stabbed inside her. She gasped, arching, and the phone fell out of her hand.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Feeling thoroughly claimed from the inside out, Khloé walked into Urban Ink. She was never late for work, so it was no surprise that the girls sent her a few raised brows. No clients had arrived yet, thankfully.

  Before she could say anything, Keenan spun her to face him and took her mouth. His lips moved soft and slow against hers. The kiss was deep and languid and lazy, and it just about melted her.

  Pliant against him, she fisted the sides of his tee as she kissed him back. Her inner demon practically purred, arching into the proprietary way he touched her. He swept one hand down her back to settle on the curve of her spine just above her butt—an unmistakable display of pure masculine possession.

  Pulling back, he caught her face in his hands and just looked at her for a few moments, his eyes all soft and warm. His crooked smile hit her right in her core. “Call out to me if you need to leave here for any reason—even if it’s only for five minutes,” he said.

  She licked her lips, a little dazed by his kiss. “Will do.”

  “Good.” He nodded at the girls, gave her one last kiss, and then breezed out of the studio. And, yep, she watched his ass the entire time. Well, it was one very fine ass. He hadn’t been impressed when she’d scrawled her name on it with a sharpie, but she couldn’t say her apology had been whatsoever heartfelt.

  Turning to face the others, Khloé saw that they were all gaping. She frowned. “What?”

  “He looks … happy,” said Harper. “And I mean really happy. Keenan can often be in a good mood, but he’s never actually happy. Considering there’s all kinds of shit going on around you right now, I expected him to be in the foulest mood ever. What gives?”

  Khloé tapped her fingertips on her thighs. “Well … he decided to claim me earlier, and I accepted his claim.”

  Raini sighed. “Khloé.”

  Surprised, she widened her eyes. “What? Why is this bad?”

  “It’s not. But I now owe Devon thirty dollars.”

  Smug, the hellcat folded her arms. “I bet Raini that you and Keenan would claim each other before all this Enoch business was over—as far as I was concerned, it was a done deal. But Raini thought it would take longer for you guys to get past all your issues.”

  “I didn’t participate in the bet because I thought it was juvenile,” said Harper, all haughty.

  Devon snorted. “You didn’t participate in the bet because you had no clue what would happen, and you didn’t want to be wrong.”

  Harper waved that away
and slid her gaze back to Khloé. “So, you’re happy?”

  Khloé inhaled deeply. “Yes, I am. The claiming feels a little surreal, though. I never thought it would happen. Ever. Like Raini once said, Keenan seemed so set on keeping me at a distance.”

  “And he failed in an epic way,” said Devon. “I always knew he would.”

  Khloé frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I so did.”

  Slipping off her jacket, Khloé rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  “How are you feeling today?” asked Raini.

  “No different than I felt yesterday,” replied Khloé as she hung her jacket on the coat rack. “Which is both good and bad.”

  Harper put a hand to her forehead. “I’m still so shocked that the angel couldn’t help you.”

  “Keenan spoke with a shifter who made it clear that his kind wouldn’t be able to heal me. That didn’t go down well with Grams.” Khloé had telepathically passed on the news to Jolene earlier.

  “We will find someone who can, Khloé,” Harper told her, her expression hard and determined.

  “I know. I’m not admitting defeat.” And neither was her demon.

  The sphinx nodded, satisfied. “Good. Have you been keeping Teague updated on everything?”

  “Yes. I spoke to him on the phone this morning, in fact.” She almost blushed as she remembered what else happened during that conversation.

  “I’ll bet he wasn’t too pleased to hear that Keenan claimed you,” hedged Raini.

  Khloé rubbed her nape. “Actually, he took the news pretty well.”

  Raini blinked. “What did he say?”

  “Something along the lines of ‘I will slit his fucking throat if he hurts you in any way, shape, or form.’”

  Raini put a hand to her chest. “Oh, that’s a relief. I expected Teague to try to kill him for claiming you.”

  “I don’t think he dislikes Keenan. I think he disliked the idea of Keenan using me. Now that he knows that’s not the case, he’ll deal, but he’ll also take time to warm up to the mating—in Teague’s mind, no one will ever be good enough for his anchor. On another note, Teague invited us to the racetrack on Saturday. You guys up for it?”