TWENTY-THREE - Thorn

TWENTY-THREE

Thorn

She's shockingly fast, and I barely have time to swipe her ankle before she connects with my jewels. My temper matches hers and I charge her, lifting her up and planting her ass against the door. That flimsy dress lifts to her thighs and I press in, right where I need to be.

"You fuckhead." She slams both elbows down on my shoulders.

"Be nice with that mouth or I'll make sure it's too busy to talk." I tangle my fingers in her thick hair and jerk her head back, pinning her to the wall with my body. "Knock it off." Her scent surrounds me while the taste of honey floods my mouth. "Let's get a couple of things straight right now." My cock aches with desperation, but we need to talk.

She glares, her eyes sparkling spitfires. "There's nothing to discuss."

"Wrong." I lower my voice into pure domination, and her pupils dilate. "First things first. The man who dared touch what's mine. How far did he go?"

She frowns and struggles, not moving an inch. "I have no idea what you're talking about, moron."

"Call me one more name, and I'm beating your ass, and then we'll talk." I tighten my grip and force her head up more, enjoying the startled cry she issues. "In the bar," I bite out. "Minutes ago."

Her lips press together. "My life is none of your business." She swallows. "What's your problem with Quinlan?"

Quinlan. Good to know a name. I could only see him from behind when he put his arm around her shoulders. "He touched you, which means I cut off his fingers and feed them to him before I kill him. Learn that lesson right now. Unless he did more. Did he?"

The confusion in her pretty eyes calms the beast raging inside me.

She licks her lips. "Were you dropped on your head a lot as a child?"

That's it. I step back, drop a knee, and plant her stomach over it. Five hard smacks to her perfect ass later, I put her right back where I want her, my weeping cock against her light pink panties, her dress up to her waist. Those pretty eyes are startled and her mouth is open. "I asked you a question."

She snaps her pink lips closed.

I tilt my head in clear warning.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. No. Quinlan didn't do anything. He's my cousin and was offering comfort because we were talking about my dead brother."

Cousin? "Quinlan Winter?" I know every person in her family but didn't recognize him from behind.

"Yes."

Good. I thought perhaps she was on a double date with Nico and Scarlett, who is also a distant cousin to her. "Are Nico and Scarlett dating?" It never hurts to know what's up in the enemy camp.

Female giggling echoes and then somebody pushes against the door.

"Closed for maintenance," I snap loudly. "Use the men's room."

Alana opens her mouth as if to scream and I press in, my mouth taking hers. Honey explodes across my taste buds and I kiss her under, taking her to submission. She gives a little moan, right into my mouth, and kisses me back.

God, the little smartass is perfect.

It has been hell being without her, so I drink deep from her sweet mouth, showing her exactly whom she belongs to. Finally, I lean back to let her breathe.

Her eyes blur with a lust that matches the urgency in my groin.

I draw in air, keeping control. "I'm not telling you again. Stop emoting about me. No more videos."

She trembles and looks down at my mouth with such sweet need that I almost give in. Then her head snaps back. "Why? You going to take your big, bad knife to me like you would've to my poor cousin?"

My fingers flex on her hip, no doubt leaving marks. Good. She'll wear my marks as long as I breathe. It's too late for her now. "If I take my knife to you, baby, it won't be to cut."

Her frown is adorable, and so are her pink cheeks and panting breath. Her lush tits are sharp diamonds against my chest, and her thighs are clamped to my hips as if her body is light-years ahead of her sharp brain about how this is going to play out. Then she makes the mistake of challenging me. "Come on. We both know that even though you're a psycho killer with rivals, you wouldn't dare use a knife on me."

Not much stuns me in this life.

She does.

Her absolute naiveté and innocence . . . not to mention lack of self-preservation. I release her hip and have my knife, one of them, in my hand before she can blink. "I understand that my temporarily trading you back to your father might have given you the impression that you're not mine. That I won't enforce every rule I have with you."

Her gaze slides to the knife, and she's not looking anywhere near frightened enough.

I flick open the blade, which is sharpened to a dangerous edge.

Her gaze lifts to mine. "Seriously?"

I shift my weight and put the blade to the top of her dress and press in.

She sucks in air, looking down. "What are you—"

In one swift motion, I slice through the sparkling material, making sure she feels the tip but it doesn't scratch her skin. Sequins bounce all over the tile floor, and those spectacular breasts spring free. Her nipples are a pink delight, and I want my bite marks on them. Soon.

Her mouth gapes open. "My dress."

"I'm not done." I reach those pretty pink panties.

Panic finally has her stiffening, but it's way too late. "I wouldn't move if I were you." Making sure to tuck the blade inside the material, I tear through the flimsy and very wet silk until she's bare to me.

She tries to shift away from the knife, but I don't let her. Her chest lifts as she holds her breath, desperately trying not to move.

I smile, lean in, and kiss her.

Alana

Tears fill my eyes from the force of his kiss. Not because I don't like it, but because I do. How does this make sense?

My mind tries to work out reality but my body is gone. I grab onto his shoulders and dig in, reveling in the feeling of his tongue taking mine. He's hard and dangerous, and something inside me softens, even as I'm on the edge.

I'm careful not to move. That knife is way too close to my tender parts, and I realize that I don't know him. At all. One night of passion and a mellow morning of him feeding me breakfast was a mere slice of time. My lungs shudder and I try to pull away.

He lets me and then bites my bottom lip.

Shock cascades down my body to my aching clit and more tears fill my eyes. Gingerly, I probe with my tongue and don't taste blood. Even so, my lip pulses with pain, and my body with fire.

I can feel wetness spill from me onto my thighs, and embarrassment heats through me.

He sinks his teeth into my upper breast. Pain and pleasure rocket together from the bite to ignite every nerve in my body. That one is going to last a while. Pleasure curves his full bottom lip and then he ducks his head again.

I suck in air, prepared for pain, but his heated mouth encloses my nipple. His tongue lashes me, and I'm unable to stop myself from pressing against him.

Metal probes my folds. The knife is at my sex.

I jerk and stop cold, my eyes widening.

He moves to the other breast, licking, sucking, and lightly biting the nipple until if feels like I'm going to detonate. But I try to remain still, because that blade is way too close.

Slowly, he penetrates me with the weapon. I jerk against him before realizing it's the shaft of the knife and not the blade. The metal is cold and hard inside me, and I open my mouth to protest when he flicks my clit with his callused thumb.

I tremble and lean against him. What is he doing?

He releases my breast with a loud pop and leans back, satisfied sliver streaks taking dominance in his eyes.

Somebody pounds on the door and I jerk, heat slashing into my face.

"Go the fuck away," he growls.

We could get caught any moment. My excitement heightens at the thought, and I move against the knife. His eyes flare and he pulls out the shaft, shoving it back in, slowly fucking me with the metal. "Stop," I whisper as I gyrate against it.

"You sure?" He speeds up and sparks flash behind my eyes.

I make a sound between a whimper and a moan that will haunt me later. He presses on my clit and wires uncoil inside me. I stiffen. And he slows down and then drives it much farther in. How close is the blade? The tip scrapes my thigh and I gasp. Will he really cut me?

"Don't." I'm so close to the edge, needing relief. God, this is too much.

"I'll do what I want to you," he whispers, pulling it out and fucking me with it. "You like it, and you know it."

I don't have an answer. The emptiness inside me is a vast and aching pain. One I don't understand. My brain fuzzes and my body screams for relief, even though I'm on the edge of being cut. Of being hurt.

He jerks my head to the side with his fingers caught in my hair, and pain crashes along my scalp. He leans in, his eyes nearly black, his nostrils flared. "Are you done fucking around with me?"

I can't move but try to nod, feeling like a trapped animal. An aroused one.

"Who is the only man who'll ever take this body?"

The words don't penetrate my overwhelmed brain.

He bites my lip and then licks the wound with his tongue. My pussy feels it as if he's in two places at once. "I own you. Say it."

My thighs tremble against his hips. He twists the knife handle. "You do," I say in a panicked rush, not caring that I'm lying my ass off. "You own me." Except, exactly who am I lying to? No other man will ever make me feel like this.

The look that comes over his face will terrify me later. For now, I can only stare. His eyes darken even more and his chin lowers, a dark flush highlighting his cut cheekbones and making that scar more prominent. "That's right. Don't you ever forget it." He shoves the knife in his pocket and yanks open the snap of his slacks before ripping down his zipper. He tightens his hold on me and then drives inside me with enough force that my shoulders bang against the wall.

Then he's moving.

Pain shocks through me followed by an excruciating pleasure that has me wrapping my legs around his hips and scratching my nails down his torso. Frantic, I tear open his buttons to claw his chest, leaving my marks on his taut skin.

He fucks me hard without a hint of the gentleness he showed my first time.

I throw back my head, feeling the gates start to open. Mini bombs detonate inside me, shooting out, and fire cascades as the orgasm takes me with a violence I wouldn't have thought possible. I cry out, and his mouth overwhelms mine, sucking all sound into his body. His powerful shoulders jerk several times with his own release.

Then everything stills. The entire world. We remain locked together, both panting, our heartbeats thumping hard against each other.

He looms over me, his gaze dark. "This was me being gentle with you, beautiful. Don't piss me off again."

I blink, still unable to capture an entire thought.

He steps back and allows my legs to slide to the floor.

A chill skates through me and I shiver, feeling vulnerable and alone.

One of his knuckles lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You're the fucking reason for everything in my entire universe. I'll worship you until I die, and most probably after that as well."

I swallow. "That wasn't worship," I croak out, my throat bone dry.

His smile is an intriguing flash of teeth. "No. That was a lesson. But don't for a second think I wasn't worshiping you the entire time."

There's no question I'm way out of my element. Even so, my body feels satiated and well used. With a side of aching pain. I frown.

He rubs between my eyes before slipping out of his jacket and settling it around my shoulders.

I balk. "I'm not leaving with you."

He plants his hand over my left breast, above my heart. "Don't think I'm not considering it. But your people have three teams on you and the Sokolovs have three inside. Outside, additional teams roam the block and four snipers are perched high above the street. The only reason—and I mean the only reason—I'm not shooting my way out with you over my shoulder is that I won't risk your life. Plus, we've come to an understanding now, haven't we?"

I nod because there's really nothing else I can do.

"Good girl." He kisses me again and then looks at me, his eyes hard. "Post about me again, and I'm going to spank your bare pussy to orgasm and make you beg for it first."

My legs freeze. "Um, no. Not my thing." Seriously.

"We'll see. So long as you understand me. Enjoy your freedom while you have it." Turning, he unlocks the door and walks out, disappearing into the crowd.

I scramble to pick up my dress and panties, fastening the button of his jacket, which reaches to my thighs. Shame heats my cheeks until my face hurts.

Did that just happen?