Chapter 30

thirty

Wrenlee

“What are we doing here?” I ask as Cash holds the door open for me to enter, and I slip past him.

“That demon thing at Ian and Candace’s house likes you, and you seem to like it, so I figured I’d get you one of your own.”

My eyes slide to him, brows raised. “Bells?” His eyes drop to me when my pitch raises. “The cat? You’re talking about the cat?”

“Yep.”

I laugh. I’ve been cold with him since this morning and the phone conversation with my dad. He had no right, but at the same time, I’m relieved it’s out there. “You’re getting me a cat?”

“You want one?”

“Who doesn’t want a cat?” He just looks at me. “Of course, I want a cat.” I start to head deeper into the shelter, but he snags me by the back of the jacket.

“Where’s my kiss, Kitten?”

I feel my head snap back. “Your kiss? After this morning?”

“Payment for the cat.”

“Um…” I blink. “After this morning, sir, it’s your account that’s in the arrears.”

He barks a laugh but shakes his head. “Pay up.” I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, debating when he threats, “No payment, no kitty.”

I huff, lean forward to offer him a peck. I should have known better than to think it would end just like that. It doesn’t. Not even close. In fact, the kiss he gives me most definitely isn’t for public consumption.

We fog the windows. Okay, not really, but almost.

With my hands on his forearms, I shove him back. “Doofus.”

He chuckles again just in time for a woman to appear from the back. “Sorry to make you wait.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“What can I do for you today?”

I look at Cash and back to the lady. “We’re here to adopt two cats. Preferably a bonded pair you’ve been struggling to find homes for. The underdog. The ones who are always passed up.”

The lady smiles. “I have just the pair. Follow me.”

I start to go with her when Cash drops his hand around my shoulders, tugging me close enough to growl in my ear. “Two?”

“I told you your account was in arrears.”

Full to the brim, with our applications filled out, they let us take the old guy’s home. A tabby with half his ear missing who the shelter named Nemo, and a midnight black boy without a speck of white and brilliant yellow eyes called Saint. As Cash had been planning for today, he had all the goods a kitty would need. The only issue is he thought I’d choose a kitten, so he had kitten food. Therefore, he needed to go out and grab senior kitty chow because both these guys are touching ten years old, the last three spent in the shelter. So, they’re uncertain of their new home in Cash’s sprawling apartment. So uncertain, at Dad’s recommendation, I’ve put them in the spare bedroom to acclimate slowly to the larger space.

I’d called Dad when Cash had left for food for the babies. Dad had chuckled, muttered something along the lines of ‘man really is serious’ before he gave me all the knowledge he has of cats.

By the time Cash got home, I’d been sitting in the room with Saint curled up on my lap, purring happily as Nemo glared cautiously, spitting random hisses in my direction.

“How are they settling?”

“Good. Saint’s a Saint. Nemo is—I think I’ve renamed him, actually.”

Cash raises a brow, looks in Nemo’s direction and is offered the same warm welcoming he offers me. With his little bum pressed into the corner of the wall, I’m not offended by his hissing. He’s terrified, that’s plain to see. He’ll warm up when he realizes he’s safe.

“What’s the new name?”

“Nemosis?”

“You mean Nemesis?”

“No.” I shake my head, stroking Saint who purrs louder. “I mean Nemosis.”

The cleverness in my name clicks and Cash chuckles. “Cute.”

My grin is proud. “Thank you.”

Cash points to Saint in my lap. “That one seems to like you.”

“They both like me. Nemosis is just scared. He’ll warm up.”

“Sure.” He doesn’t believe me.

I pat the bed. “Come say hi.”

He gives me a look, but he comes closer. Sitting beside me, he lifts a hand to stoke Saint. Saint purrs louder. I get it, totally. I like it when Cash strokes me, too.

“Got another letter on my windshield.” My eyes snap to him, and I find him already watching me. “Wasn’t sure I was going to tell you.”

“Do you know who they’re coming from?”

“Thought I did, but I hired a PI to look into someone and—who I thought it was is gone. She moved to another state after attempting to commit suicide.” He rubs his brow on a heavy sigh. “I have no fucking idea who’s leaving this shit now.”

“Who did you think it was?”

His eyes find mine, flickering to my lips and back again. “I’ve never really dated, but I guess the closest to it would have been with a woman named Alyssa. She was older than me, established in her career, but it was never serious. She was fun for a while, and then she wasn’t.”

My heart quickens. I don’t know why. “What made her not fun anymore?”

“She was obsessed. Crazy at times. Jealous and angry and—I ended it, but she’s been hanging on.”

“Hanging on how?”

“Showing up at gigs, here, waiting outside my car for me. Sending fucked up letters, calling me all the time.”

“Is that why you wanted me?”

He looks at me, the frown between his brows pinched deep. “Partly. But I also wanted you for you.”

I nod, considering. “Are you the reason she gave for attempting suicide?”

He shrugs, but his head falls into his hand and his fingers dig into his brow. I can see he’s bothered by this, by the idea of someone who was once in his life being so distraught at their parting that they would resort to ending it all. “I have no fucking clue what her reason was. Only that she’s unstable and clearly needs help.” Tiredly, he adds, “Help I can’t give.”

In this, I can agree. “No, you can’t.” I soften my voice as I study him, the pain in his eyes. “It’s not your place to help her either. That kind of dependency on someone isn’t—it’s not right. It’s not healthy. She needs help from someone outside of this. A professional.” When he doesn’t give me his eyes, I go on. “It’s not your fault, Cash.”

“I’m sorry, Wrenlee.”

He gives me his eyes when I demand, “For what?”

“For coming with drama. A past. Something—someone unpleasant.”

I can’t help it, I laugh. “You’re on your way to being a famous musician. I best get used to drama if I’m going to stay your woman.”

“Not if.” The way he says it with so much passion, I have to fight a shiver. “You are my woman. The only one I want now and the only one I’ll ever want.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can. I do.”

“Cash.”

“Wrenlee, I’m serious. I’m serious about this, about us. I’ve never felt this way and I know I’ll never feel this way again.” He swallows hard, spearing a hand through his hair. “I’ve been with enough people to know when wrong feels wrong and right is right. For me, you are right.”

My heart slides down into my belly before bobbing back up into my throat. He makes me feel so much, all the time. This man is intense. Like flame and ice. They both burn, eventually. I wonder how long it’ll take for him to incinerate me.

Because he seems to need it, I slide my hand to his thigh and tell him, “I love you, Cash. I love you now like I’ll love you forever, no matter what happens.”

His eyes shutter closed as he absorbs my words into the deep of him, and I lean over to press a kiss to his jaw. Disturbed by my movement, Saint stands and trots off. It’s a good thing, because Cash doesn’t let the kiss be just that.

Before I know it, I’m flat on the bed and Cash’s hand is under my sweater, palming a breast. He’s kissing me like he’s trying to climb inside me, to file the rough edges of his soul smooth against the polished stone of mine. I open to him, letting the walls and uncertainties crumble, letting him in. I want to be all that he needs. I want to let him use me however he needs me, because since I came to be in Cash’s life, I’ve always been the one in need. Always taking. Never giving. Today, right now, I get to be the giver.

I want to give him everything. All of me.

He tastes like coffee and sin and cinnamon and him. I let him take the lead, let him strip me bare, with rough hands he’s tempered just for me. Still, I can feel the tremble of restraint as he pushes me back on the bed, spreading my legs and taking me in.

I don’t want him to hold back today. I don’t want him to refrain from touching the wilder, animalistic side that rages beneath his skin. I want all of him. Untethered, unbound from the shackles he’s closed around himself.

Sitting up, I kiss him with rough passion, earning a deliciously thrilling growl that vibrates deep within me.

My voice sounds low and husky, “Don’t be gentle with me. Take what you want, however you want it.” I wet my lips, anticipation trembling inside me. “I want you to use me thoroughly and roughly.”

His entire body stiffens. He’s like stone. Hard. Impossibly hard. His eyes are like black granite ignited by the moon. His soul is like the moon—bursting light draped in shadow, shrouded in inky night.

He doesn’t even blink, not for a solid minute. The only thing that moves inside him, the only visible piece of him that has not been turned to stone is the flutter of his pulse in his neck. It quickens as he absorbs my words and then his eyes drift closed, and he shakes his head.

“Kitten,” it’s a strangled protest I refuse to accept.

Pressing my palms into his chest, I climb to my knees. He’s still so much bigger than me like this, towering over me. He’s so big, every part of him could fold around every part of me and hold me prisoner for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t complain.

I think maybe I’d even like it—to be his prisoner—to accept the cage of his arms. There must be something wrong with me. I’ve read too many dark romances. Maybe they’ve twisted a piece of me beyond repair. Either way, I think he needs this. Me. My complete surrender to him.

I think maybe I was even made for him, because like Cash claims he’s never felt this way, neither have I. Maybe I don’t have the experience, but I’ve had men in my life. I’ve simply never had a man who makes me feel the way Cash does. Who makes me burn the way Cash makes me burn.

“Take me,” I urge again, keeping my head tipped back, my eyes on his as I offer myself to him. “However you need me. I can take you however you need me.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw. I think he’s going to refuse me again.

But he doesn’t.

I’m fully naked and he is fully clothed as his eyes rake me, shivers skating the path his eyes travel. Goosebumps pebble my flesh, and he tracks every single one.

Wet swells between my legs. I’m so hot, so achingly hot in the core of me. I can hardly breathe. Cash watches my breasts rise and fall, his dark gaze devouring me inch by delicious inch.

I make a noise in the back of my throat. It’s strangled. “Cash, please.”

Finally, with a low, dangerous growl, he breaks. I know he breaks because his big hands land on my waist a moment before he flips me around so I’m face-down on the bed, shocked into stillness. He grips my hips and he pulls back, yanking my ass into his hard front. He grinds the rough material of his jeans into my butt so hard that I can feel every ridged inch of him behind the abrasive material.

Heat flares in my core. A raging fire in my blood.

Never in my life have I been used like this—like I’m a possession, a thing. It’s oddly arousing.

In this moment, I want to be his thing. The thing that drives him mad. It’s a dangerous thing to want. But I can’t deny that I do. I can’t deny, that although dangerous, I crave it.

Driven to move on instinct alone, I spread my legs wide, baring myself to him.

I want him to move lower. I want him to touch me where I desperately need him to touch me between my legs. This base instinct to be full of him is excruciatingly raw, and if I were in a more clear frame of mind, I might have had the sense to hold myself back. I don’t, however, have that sense. I’ve been stripped of it, left with nothing but desire for the man behind me. My man.

Arching my back, I moan as he connects with my core, surely soaking his jeans. I don’t even have the awareness to care about that. It’ll come later. For now, I can do nothing but whimper as he grinds into me behind his clothing.

I’m about to lose my mind, I swear it, when he pulls away and cold air replaces the warmth of his body. The sharp slap of his palm against my ass ricochets in the room. Surprising us both, I don’t scream or try to wiggle away from him. I push my ass back for another, and with a growl of approval he doesn’t disappoint. He gives me three more sharp and fast slaps that send my mind blinking in and out of sanity.

Who knew I’d like this? Who knew I had a freak living deep within, just waiting to be coaxed to the surface by him?

“Spread your legs for me, baby.” I obey without question. “Is your pussy wet for me?”

“Mmmm.” I can’t form words. What are words?

“I want it dripping for me, Kitten.” He lands one more open palmed slap on my ass cheek, rubbing the sting away with that musician calloused hand.

Oh, my God, I think I’m gonna come. The pressure between my legs is so intense. So massive. I feel as though I’m going to fly over the edge. I’m going to combust. I’m going to burst.

“Cash,” I whimper. He growls low in his throat, and I hear the fall of his zipper. Then I feel him right there at my opening, his tip sliding through the wet.

“So wet.” He praises in a voice wrapped in sin, decadent. “That’s my good girl.”

My breath hitches as he grips the base of his dick with his big hand, moving it slowly over my slit. He only does that a couple teasingly slow times before he lines up with my entrance and pauses. My legs quiver in anticipation and my pussy throbs painfully, desperately, as he rests there, unmoving.

Large hands explore the globes of my butt cheeks, calloused fingers press into flesh as he spreads me open. I wince, for the first time making to escape him, but he holds me tight in his immovable grip.

“I’m going to have your ass one day soon, Kitten.” A moan of protest or desire—I’m not sure—slips from my throat into the sex-scented air. “I’m going to stretch it with my finger, and then my dick, baby. And you’re going to scream and moan for me. I’ll make sure you want it so bad, Kitten.” He looses a strangled groan. “Fuck yeah, baby, you’re dripping wet. Soaking your thighs.” He hisses a sharp sound as his thumb strokes the rosebud and my body tenses. “Not today, but soon,” he promises, his voice dropping to a dangerous deep. “I’ll know all the parts of you. I’ll have been inside all of you.” His finger moves slowly down the length of my spine, and my back arches like a cat, seeking his touch. More. “Fuck, you’re exquisite.”

“Cash,” I beg for what must be the millionth time. I’ve been stuck in this agony of want for too long. “Please.”

He lines the tip up with my entrance once more and I roll my hips back as a shudder of sweet anticipation pulses through my body. A sound of heady desire trembles from his chest to fall between us, and it’s so delicious, so perfectly meant for me—because of me—it wrecks me. Devastates me. Signs-the-contract-for-my-soul-in-blood claims me.

With no warning at all and one violent thrust of his hips, he’s inside me. He groans, his fingertips biting into my skin as he holds himself rooted there.

And then he loses control. All control.

He fucks me like an animal.

It’s the first time he hasn’t made love to me. I freaking love it.

I meet him thrust for thrust, slamming my ass back into him. He groans and I moan. He grunts and I whimper. His hands fist into the flesh of my hips and mine fist into sheets.

My breasts bounce with every slam of his hips against my ass, my nipples grazing the material of the bedding. They’re so achingly sensitive, every stroke of the soft duvet cover nearly sends me into a state.

He fucks me raw and hard, long and ruthless, and beautifully brutal.

“Yeah, baby,” he grunts. “Just like that, Kitten. Slam that ass back on me.”

I do. I slide my ass back into him over, and over, and over again. Spreading my legs wider and wider as he seeks to dive deeper. To possess more thoroughly.

“Ahhh,” he groans. “Fuuuuuck.” The unwilling word drags from his lungs, plucking at the chords of my desire. It’s not the word itself that sends me teetering to the edge, but the way he says it. There’s torture and bliss in this word. He might have found a way to claim my soul for his own, but in this moment, I think I have his too.

I clench around him as thick emotion and wanton desire war inside my body for dominance. I’m so close, and I think as his cock jumps inside me that he is too. I angle my ass up higher, and he hisses between his teeth, gripping me harder. The wet sounds of our joining drive us both to the brink of madness. I’m not sure we’ll ever come down from this. Not sure we’ll ever come back. I’m not sure I ever want to come back from this.

It’s soooo bloody good.

He echoes my thought. “So good. So good, baby girl.” He praises me and I love it. I love it so much; I want to beg for more. I would fall to my knees for this man’s dirty praise.

Oh, how he’s changed me. How he’s morphed me from girl to woman in such a way I’ll never go back. There is no turning back. Not from this. Not from him.

“More. More,” I whimper. “Harder.”

He obliges, slamming into me so hard the pleasure becomes pain, and the pain becomes pleasure. When his hand comes around my waist, his fingers dipping between my legs. I don’t expect what comes next, but what comes next has color exploding behind my eyes.

Thumb and finger find my clit, and he pinches.

I explode. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Like nothing I will ever experience again.

I don’t just orgasm, I become the orgasm.

I scream into the pillow as his dick leaps inside me and hot cum fills me. All of me, but he’s not done. Not even as he falls forward, his chest on my back. His big arms surround me. His elbows planted into the bed. He’s completely covering me, blanketing me with his body, thrusting inside me pump after pump. Filling me again and again.

I can feel his teeth on my shoulder, his lips on my throat.

He fists my hair in one big hand, pulling my head to the side and dropping his mouth to mine. He fucks my mouth with his tongue like he’s fucking my pussy with his dick. I love it. I love him. I love that we can wreck each other, and I love that in the aftermath of the wreckage we come together, all our pieces clicking back into place as we find each other again, together.

He presses me flat into the bed as he impales me with just as much fierce passion as before. I’m not sure how he’s still hard, but he is. I’m not sure how I’ve driven him to this point of madness, but I have. I’d do it again, and as he pushes a knee into the back of mine, opening me to him more, I feel his teeth skate over my lower lip. A thrill races over the length of my spine as he holds me imprisoned on the bed by his big arms, one slipping around my middle to angle my hips up that tiny bit as he thrusts deeper and harder, stroking long and thick inside me.

His breath is hot on my shoulder as he growls, “Don’t know what you do to me, Kitten.”

My heart doesn’t flutter in my chest. It melts. “Do anything for you, Cash,” I say between gasps. “Love you.”

He kisses me deeper, harder, like he’s doing everything he can to taste my soul.

I do everything I can to give it to him.

We shatter again together before he pulls me into his arms on the bed, and as my eyes roam over the room, I remember the new additions to our home.

“Do you think we scarred them?”

“The cats?”

“Yeah.” I angle my head to look up at him when he looks down at me.

One dark brow is cocked high. “They look scarred to you?”

I look back to the cats, who are snuggled together on the Cadillac of cat trees, looking anything but scarred. “Point taken.” I yawn tiredly as I snuggle deeper into his chest, and Cash wraps me up in blankets, held together in his arms.

I fall into what can only be described as an after-sex coma.