38. Chapter Thirty-Eight Nathan

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Nathan

I wanted her to know…no, I needed her to know–that the future was ours.

We didn’t belong to the Serpents. We didn’t belong to the Insurgents. We belonged to each other.

If we were the king and queen of my father’s mafia empire…then it was for us and our child.

Her fingers grazed over my knuckles, over the scars that had been left there by years of violence. Not just violence that I’d inflicted on others, but violence that had been inflicted on me; a lifetime of abuse from a father who wanted to shape me into something I never wanted to be.

He deserved to die.

I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to figure that out.

“So…it seems you’re going to be the Serpent Queen of San Francisco,” I murmured, bringing her hand to my mouth to kiss her palm. “How does it feel?”

“It feels very…” she paused, then she rolled her eyes slightly. “It feels very white savior-y, actually. I think I’d rather take a back seat to the heroics here.”

I laughed, shaking my head, and my cheeks ached at the feeling of an actual smile on my face. It felt like the first time in ages that I’d smiled like that–and it was always Abby that made me do it.

“Oh…so now you have a problem with being a white savior?” I asked.

She shoved my shoulder with a scoff. “Simmer down, serpent king–”

But she froze when I caught her wrist.

We’d always played with power; from the moment I’d taken her from her ordinary life, locked her up in that gilded cage. That night, I should have killed her–I still knew that, to this day–but I hadn’t…because she’d shown me something in myself that I’d kept locked away. I would never forget when she admitted to me that she liked being bound, cuffed, choked. I’d been tender with her for a long time now.

I missed the other side of her, too.

The darker side.

“It wasn’t really a question,” I said, voice low. I kept hold of her wrist with one hand, my other hand coming up to trail up her arm…over her shoulder…to her breast. I took one heavy breast in my hand and squeezed, dragging my thumb over the peaked nipple beneath her t-shirt. “You’re going to be my queen, Abby. You’re going to give me an heir…you’ll be the mother of the next leader of the Serpents.”

She nodded, lips parting, her stubbornness receding into delicious submission. “Yes…”

“So how does it feel?” I asked again.

She gasped when I pinched her through her t-shirt; arched her back.

“It feels good,” she breathed.

My hands roamed over her–not undressing her, just teasing, testing. I wanted her moaning and begging for me before I gave her anything at all, wanted to remember what it felt like when she was my toy. Because that was the thing–I still wanted to play with her. There was a part of me that was dark, a part she’d fallen in love with, and that part would always be there.

I took hold of her hair with one hand, pulled until her throat was bared to me.

“I’ve been wanting to do this,” I growled. “It’s just one of the ways I like to have you. Gentle sometimes, playful sometimes…but sometimes you need to be disciplined, don’t you?”

“Mmhm,” she gasped. Jesus, I was barely touching her and I could already see how turned on she was. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen. Her nipples had pebbled beneath her shirt, giving me a clear view.

“Do you want to suck my cock?” I asked. “You’re fucking hungry for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she nodded, wincing at the sensation when I pulled her hair again. “Please–”

I stood at the edge of the bed, looked down at where she was sitting. Her hips moved slowly, grinding against the mattress. “Stop that,” I ordered. “You don’t come for anyone but me.”

“Yes…”

“Now take off your clothes, Abby.”

She did as she was told, as quickly as possible. First her shirt came off, then she was leaning back to take off her leggings. She had on this lacy, sheer number underneath the tee, her nipples practically poking through the lace, and I chuckled. “Leave that on,” I said before she could take it off. “I want to play with you…and you look like a fucking slut half-dressed like that.”

Her breath hitched at my words, and she stared up at me, unmoving. Well…she was moving a little–trembling in anticipation, hanging on every word. I loved how it felt to be like this–Abby half-naked in my bed, me fully dressed.

There was a time when this had been the only way to fuck her that felt safe . A time when I had to protect my soul, hide it away.

Now, it was a game.

…and I was going to have fun with her.

I moved closer to her, tilted my head toward my waist. “Take it out,” I said.

Abby’s hands shot up to my fly, unbuttoned, unzipped. Her tongue slid along her lips as she locked eyes with me, and I groaned when my cock fell heavy out of my open jeans when she pulled down my boxers. Her eyes darted to my cock, then back to me…

…then she was swallowing me as far as she could.

“Fuck,” I cursed, tangling my fingers in her hair. “Fuck yes…”

Her tongue moved along my shaft; I felt myself bottom out at the back of her throat.

“Go on, petal,” I whispered. “Make me come all over that pretty face.”

Abby’s breath left her in a harsh gasp–then she started to stroke me where her lips couldn’t reach, moving her head back and forth. Her eyes glistened and saliva dripped off her lower lip. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Gorgeous, and deadly, and the most dangerous woman I’d ever met…and my toy.

“You want me to fuck your throat, Abby?” I asked. “Choke on it, petal.”

She nodded around my cock, moaned, began to grind her hips. I wanted her to get off, too. wanted her to get off just from sucking my cock.

“Fuck your fingers, Abby,” I commanded. “Play with yourself. I want to know how good you can suck my cock while you’re coming on your hand.”

“Nathan,” she choked out around my shaft. “Fuck–”

Her fingers were between her legs now, strumming her clit, pushing inside. She sucked me harder, faster. I wanted to come on her face, on her tits, on that cute lacy bra…

But I wanted to be inside her more.

In one fluid movement, I yanked her up by her hair, turned her and shoved her to the bed. Her ass was in my hands in a heartbeat, and I raised my right hand and spanked her hard. She cried out, breasts swaying beneath her.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” I snarled. “My dirty little toy…”

“Yes!” she cried out. Fuck, we were making a racket; I was sure everyone in the warehouse could probably hear us, but I didn’t give a damn. “I’m yours!”

“Say it again,” I growled. “Mine.”

“Yours, all yours,” she purred. The words came out in a rhythmic chant. “Fuck me, Nathan…please fuck me.”

My cock glided along her seam, found her dripping wet. “Did you already make yourself come when you were sucking my cock?” I asked. “If not…”

“ Yes! ” she insisted, looking over her shoulder. “Please, please–”

I slammed into her.

She rocked back against me.

Then my fingers were pressing bruises into her hips, Abby’s body mine to use. I fucked her like she was an accessory for my pleasure, her inner walls clenching around me. She loved it. I loved it. I loved her, and yeah, I was fucked up, but this…it was fucking heaven.

“I’m gonna…” she whined, falling to her elbows. “I’m gonna come. Gonna come…”

“Come for me, petal,” I ordered.

Taking the cue, she shuddered and clenched, and I nearly came along with her. Fuck, she was beautiful. I was going to spend the rest of my life loving this woman, making love to this woman.

Pleasure rocketed through me, every nerve ending lighting up. I needed more from her, needed to touch her, needed…

I stripped off my shirt, pulled out. Abby barely had time to protest before I was out of my jeans and boxing her into the corner of the bed, bracing myself against the wall. I gazed into her eyes and planted a messy kiss on her lips, tasting myself, tasting her desire.

Then I was sliding home again…and I lost it. I didn’t know where we were anymore, what day it was, what year. We were here in the present and in the past, locking eyes across the counter at the Red Lantern. We were in a nightclub, grinding on the dancefloor, frantically fucking in an alcove.

We were inside my makeshift prison at 118 California, and she was drinking red wine…and I was wondering if I needed to kill her.

But then, she was there again– here , real–and I counted my lucky stars as I took her face in my hands and forced her to look into my eyes. I was right on the verge of release, I could feel it, and I knew exactly what I wanted to say.

“Love you,” I groaned. “I fucking love…”

I thrust hard, filled her–and I came, shooting ropes of hot cum inside her, making her mine. I knew it wasn’t necessary, that it was a reiteration of a sacred truth, but I needed her to know.

At the Red Lantern, I’d loved her.

At the nightclub, I’d loved her.

And at 118 California, I’d learned she was the one thing I couldn’t lose.

My hips shook as I rode out the aftershocks, Abby gasping underneath me…then our torsos were pressed together and we were kissing, kissing. It felt like the desperation would never end, but our heartrates finally slowed and steadied, and then I found her eyes. She was gazing at me, green eyes sparkling in the grey light through the window.

“I don’t know how it feels to be the serpent queen,” she murmured. “But it feels damn good to be yours.”

I smiled. “It feels damn good to be yours, too.”