Hush (Black Lotus #3) (6 page)

“Are you scared of me?”

“Yes,” I respond with no mask.

With his one hand clutching the belt and the other clutching my hair, he gives his next order, “Take my pants off and suck my cock.”

I unhook, unzip, and pull down.

He’s raging hard, and when I slide him into my mouth, he releases a guttural moan into the still of the room. My heart races as I suck him deeply. My hands grip around the backs of his thighs while I run my lips up and down the smooth skin of his cock.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, and when I look up to him, his head is tilted back.

His hand squeezes around my hair, pulling it even more, ripping the scab when he bucks his hips suddenly, forcing himself to the back of my mouth. I gag slightly, and reflex with a swallow, the opening of my throat clamping around the head of his dick when I do so.

“Jesus Christ.” His words claw through the grit of ecstasy as he pulls out of me. In flashes of seconds, he slings his shirt across the room and kicks off his pants.

We’re entirely naked.

He kneels down, draping my legs over his broad shoulders and opens me with his hands. The sound of him inhaling deeply takes over me and becomes too much. I pinch my eyes shut, because the sight of him alone is enough to rip me to shreds.

Why does he do this to me?

Soft, wet heat slides through the core of me. It’s a single lick through my folds that throws my pulse off beat and I retract.

“Don’t!” he barks, and when I open my eyes and look down at him, he continues, “Don’t fight me. Don’t push me away.” And with our eyes linked together, he moves in and closes his mouth around my clit, sucking me gently. My heavy breaths are loud, staggering in rapture as I twist the sheets in my hands. He continues to watch me as his tongue laps and massages, spurring my body to grind against him.

He’s soft and deliberate, and then, in an utter contradiction, he bares his teeth and bites my clit, erupting a euphoric scream from deep inside my gut as the pain rips through my pussy and up my spine. I fall back onto the bed, my body now writhing when his lips replace his teeth. Black and white fill my eyes with grey. I want to scream for him to stop and, at the same time, beg him to do it again. I’m hyperventilating when he shoves his tongue inside me, the prickles of his beard chafing my tender skin.

I’m swept away, floating in the air, unable to escape. I hear whimpering, and I know it has to be coming from me, but it isn’t sadness my heart feels. I reach down for him, needy for some sort of anchor, and fumble around before he locks a hand to mine, holding it tightly.

His lips are now on mine as his body hovers over me, and he dips his tongue into my mouth. I slide my tongue along his, tasting myself, tasting him. It’s a potent cocktail.

“Turn on your stomach,” he tells me, and when my eyes widen, he assures, “I won’t fuck you like that, not tonight.”

I waver for a moment when he begs of me, “Trust me enough to be powerless. I want you weak and depending on me, to know that I’ll keep you safe. Give me that power back.”

I wanted Pike in that moment. It was a brief need that rushed through me. Pike was always the safe choice; Declan came with so many uncertainties. I feared becoming too exposed with him, and yet I feared becoming too distant with him. I wondered if I kept pushing him away if he would eventually leave me. I couldn’t bear that thought. I’d lost him once before and it was the worst pain of my life. Whatever direction I went with Declan, one thing was inevitable: Fear.

I’ve been told in the past to never make decisions out of fear, but I was at a road block. Turn left—fear. Turn right—fear. I’d rather be scared with Declan than be scared without him. The choice, was clear. Pike faded in that room as I allowed Declan to fill every vacant space.

Turning onto my stomach, I rest my cheek on the bed and make the decision to let all my fears come to life. He takes my arms and crosses the belt around my wrists then turns me over to bring the two straps around my waist, cinching the loop even tighter as he fastens the belt around my stomach.

Bound with no escape. I’m completely his—en masse.

“Are you scared?” he asks, kicking my thighs open.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he says chillingly. “I want your eyes on me. I want you watching me as I fuck all that fear away.”

Before I can digest his words, he slams into me with intense force, rocking my body backwards and kicking the breath right out of my lungs. I have nothing to grab on to as he rears back and thrusts inside me again. Wadding up a handful of the sheets beneath me, I hold on tightly as he begins to pump his scorching hot cock in and out of me.

I move to wrap my legs around his hips, but he stops me, grabbing my knees and pushing them wide open and down into the mattress. His eyes are on fire, molten black.

“Do you feel that?” he grunts. “You feel me inside of you?”

“Yes.”

He then grips his hands around my shoulders and buries his cock so deep in me I whimper in ultimate pleasure. He keeps a tight hold on me, never relenting as he pushes himself as deep as he can. It’s a searing pain in the tender flesh of my pussy, but so intoxicating.

“Tell me you feel that,” his voice strains.

I nod, unable to catch my breath enough to speak.

His cock begins to throb inside of me as he holds himself still, the pressure becoming too much for me to contain. He keeps pushing, deeper and deeper until I can’t take it anymore and I burst out in a breathless sob. It isn’t from pain though, it’s something else. An unyielding need to touch him, to grab him and pull him even deeper. It’s a reckless urge for him to permeate me wholly, to rip me open completely. All of him in all of me. My arms ache to be freed, but he has me restrained.

I begin to scream, tears springing from my eyes, needing more.

More.

More.

When I think the pressure can’t go any further, it does, intensifying, blinding my vision. My chest bears a thousand pounds of emotion, and I scream out, begging for more.

“That’s it, darling. Cry,” he encourages. “I want you crying for
me
.”

And I am. Every tear is his as I sob for more of him.

He wanted me weak, and here I am, happily weak and desperate. I’m thrashing and fighting the restraint of his belt, but it only makes my muscles burn even more. My whole body is a raging fire, incinerating all my doubts of his love for me.

“I won’t let you go!” he yells over my screams. “So stop fighting.”

And when I do finally stop tugging against his belt and quiet myself, he leans down and licks the tears that coat my cheeks.

“Are you done fighting me?”

I nod, unable to stop the maniacal emotions from flooding out of me.

“Say it.”

“I won’t fight you again.” My voice, hoarse and cracked.

He slowly releases the pressure, sliding his cock out of me, my muscles aching as I begin to lose him, but he returns with another forceful thrust, claiming, “I own you.”

His words provide solace as he fucks me in long, hard strokes. My vision clears, and his face comes back into focus. His body is covered in sweat, every ridge of every muscle flexes and strains as he takes back the control I had been attempting to steal from him. It belongs to him though, so I freely give it.

I watch him move above me, and he takes my hips when he props up on his knees and pulls my ass off the bed. The roped muscles of his shoulders and arms bulge in swollen heat as he takes my pussy. My whole body begins to climb, tingling, sparking, igniting.

“Ask me for it,” he snaps, reaching his hand behind my back to hold my hand, as he always does when I orgasm.

I immediately tense up, tightening my core, and he growls as I constrict around his shaft, fighting my release.

“Let me hear you beg.”

And I do, pleading for him to fuck me hard, to make me cum, and he does. I shatter, exploding around his cock in pulsing contractions of passion, love, and trust as he squeezes my hand that remains bound behind my back, reminding me that he’s here for me, that I’m not alone in the ache we both share for each other. And just as I reach my ultimate peak, live wires spark through my veins, taking my whole body captive. He pulls out and shoots his cum all over my stomach and tits. His hand continues to pump his cock as he empties himself all over me.

Tears paint my face in a piece of art that embodies a love so powerful it can only be ours. It’s ugly and beautiful and painful, but it’s ours. We are monsters and lovers, animals and killers, but nothing can extinguish what we have when we’re together.

He takes his hand and rubs his semen into my skin all over my stomach, breasts, and neck before unlatching the belt buckle, freeing my arms. I immediately sling them around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” I cry, tears falling from my cheeks and rolling down his back. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh, darling,” he consoles, whispering into my ear as he holds me tightly. “I have you. You’re safe.”

He sliced me wide open, and I cry for a long while until the wound slowly mends back together. He holds me the whole time, patient, whispering to me, calming me down.

I lie in his arms, covered in his feral scent, and when he pulls the sheets over our naked bodies, I take his face in my hands, telling him with absolute certainty, “I love you.” My heart weeps as I say the words and fresh tears slip out, but I say it again because I want no doubt. “I love you.”

He kisses me, and it’s tender. Lips brushing lips, sucking and licking. He isn’t taking; it’s purely giving.

“I don’t want you to ever go a day without knowing how much I adore you,” he tells me. “You’re life-consuming.”

With tangled legs, bleeding hearts, and tethered souls, we claw each other throughout the night—desperate for unsurpassable symbiosis.

KARMA IS OFTEN
slow to respond, and because of its intimate relationship with destiny, often waits until a future incarnation. I won’t have to wait that long though—it’s been long enough. Fate became my divinity today when I got a phone call from an old buddy I hadn’t heard from in a while. Seems there’s a guy who needs to get his hands on an airline flight manifest—the same airline I’ve been working at for the past decade.

It’s not the first time I’ve been approached to do something that would entail turning my back on the oath of honesty this job requires. But this is the first time I want to turn my back—and I did.

All it took was one name.

Steve Archer.

I first heard that name sixteen years ago when my brother was arrested for smuggling guns over international lines.

I sought my revenge on that man after I found out he ratted out my brother, but it was too late, he was already dead.

Or so I thought.

I hung up the phone and immediately pulled up the manifest for the flight in question. Since I work for the airline’s IT department, retrieving the document took mere minutes to do. Steve Archer wasn’t on the list though.

But that’s okay, because I have the man’s name that’s looking for him. Lachlan Stroud—he will serve as my map, leading me to fulfill long overdue retribution.

WAKING UP THIS
morning is surreal. It’s what I used to fantasize about back in Chicago when Declan told me about this estate. And although I’ve been staying here with him for a couple weeks now, this is first time I’ve truly felt connected to him. He’s made his feelings known; he’s made it very clear that he’s not leaving. I’ve had my doubts, but after talking to Pike last night and Declan forcing me to reconnect and trust him, something has shifted between us.

I’m snug in his arms as I watch the sun bathe the walls. Everything around me glows in warmth. My body sinks into the arms of my prince as we wake in our castle. I try to control my elation, because this world is filled with unknowns that lurk behind the corners of life’s winding streets. But for now, I’m at peace.

I watch Declan as he sleeps, and for the first time, I see the stress I’ve inflicted up close. It’s in the extra grey hairs that weren’t there in Chicago. It’s in his beard that’s a few weeks overgrown. It’s in the deepening lines at the corners of his eyes. I reach out and run my hand along his jaw, through the bristly hair of his beard. It crackles against my palm, and I smile. He begins to rouse, but I don’t stop touching, feeling, studying. Every touch, smell, sight, I cement to my memory. Carving everything about him into the delicate flesh of my heart.