Chapter 9

Kayla

Iwouldn’t have been surprised if Salvatore thought there was something seriously wrong with me in choosing Sinner as our non-date/first-date destination. Because who the hell picked a nightclub for that?

We’d arrived at the same time, waited in line for only ten minutes, and now here we were, at the bar and waiting for drinks after we’d woven our way through the club.

Honestly I shouldn’t have come out tonight, but I had this awful habit of feeling bad about things I had no control over, and things that I didn’t need to feel guilty about. And flat out turning down Salvatore, not only with him being Sasha’s cousin but with him being genuinely nice during the small amount of time we’d spent together, and me trying to change the way I thought and how I felt… I knew I had to do this.

And as we kept glancing at each other and me giving awkward smiles—or maybe that was just me that thought they were awkward—the more I sat here, the more I wished I would’ve just told Sasha to politely decline.

Salvatore leaned in, and just as he was about to say something, his warm breath brushing against my ear, the bartender set our drinks down in front of us. I had opted for something nonalcoholic, a Shirley Temple of all things.

I took a deep breath. “I?—”

“I know you’re not interested,”” he said before I could get one word out. I lifted my glass and took a long drink, but it went down the wrong pipe at his no-nonsense tone, causing me to sputter for a moment.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, my eyes slightly watering. He gave me a tight smile, not one that was judgy or uncomfortable, but one that seemed accepting.

“Caught you off guard.” He chuckled and lifted his beer up, taking a long pull. He set the bottle down but kept his fingers around the base, and for a moment I didn’t know how to respond.

Had he been able to read me that easily? Had I made things that weird and uncomfortable in the twenty minutes we’d been inside the nightclub?

He leaned in close again, and the scent of his cologne, which was pleasant and subtle, filled my nose and masked the slight aroma of sweat and alcohol that permeated the air.

“Thank you for humoring me though. And this was probably for the best anyway, seeing as I won’t be staying in the States long.” He pulled back, and his smile was genuine and gentle. He shrugged. “I guess all I saw was the moment and not the bigger picture, and guarding your heart is understandable.”

I didn’t respond to that, because I didn’t want to burst his bubble and say it wasn’t as deep as me guarding my heart. He clearly thought that was the case. And although Salvatore seemed like a good guy, he also had an air of arrogance that surrounded him. He probably wasn’t used to getting turned down.

So I had to assume that me declining any romantic situation between us automatically had him assuming it was because he wasn’t staying in America very long, and not because I had my own issues to deal with.

So I smiled and inclined my head, the only response I could muster. And for the next half hour, we talked about neutral things, about Sasha and memories he had of them growing up, of his home in Italy and how one day I should visit and experience authentic pasta and pizza.

He talked about his olive oil and wine import and export business, and how he did come to the US frequently but for short bursts of time for business but mainly pleasure, as most of his company dealings were in his home country.

I finished my drink at the same time he did, and the expression he gave me told me he knew this non-date had reached the end. “I really am sorry if I wasted your time,” I said automatically, and he lifted his hand as if to brush away my comment.

“How can it be a waste of my time when I spent part of my evening enjoying a drink with a beautiful lady?” He flashed me a blinding grin I was sure had the effect of dropping panties all around. But for me, there was… nothing.

I stood and smoothed my hand down my dress, the outfit nothing revealing and certainly not something I’d probably wear to a nightclub, as it was modest. But I hadn’t wanted to give Salvatore the wrong impression, even if I’d picked Sinner for a very specific reason.

“It was a really nice time, even if things went in a different direction.”

He stood as well, and the scent of his cologne filled my nose once more. “Can I walk you out to your car?”

I shook my head and gestured toward the back hallway. “I actually have to use the ladies’ room, but thank you.”

He nodded once. “Then I’ll wait for you and walk you out.”

I was shaking my head before he could finish. “Really, I’m fine. I parked right in front of the nightclub.” I made my tone a little firmer, because I could see on his face he wanted to argue, but after a second he exhaled and nodded once.

“English might be my second language, but I certainly can understand when a lady needs her space.” He gave me another blinding grin and turned to leave.

I watched his retreating body for a second, feeling a little rude that I’d blatantly lied to him. Because I didn’t have to use the restroom. But I also didn’t feel bad enough to dwell on it.

And then I looked around the club, searching for one particular man, the reason I’d come here. The reason I stayed behind.

But as I stood there and stared at the club-goers, I felt deflated with each added second that I didn’t see him. The man who made my blood sing.

This was a mistake.I exhaled and shook my head, feeling ridiculous that I was even here. But just as I was about to leave, I felt a tingling at the back of my neck, the same one I felt the last time I was here and saw my mystery man.

I started looking around the club a little more thoroughly, but the shadows were thick, the lighting low. I couldn’t see him, but God… I knew he was here. Watching me. I swallowed roughly and turned to go to the bathroom, needing a breather all of a sudden, needing to act like I had a semblance of control. Because even though I couldn’t see him, I felt his gaze. A tangible touch that made me unhinged.

Once in the bathroom, I waited for the lone female currently inside to leave before I braced my hands on the sink basin and breathed out. I closed my eyes, my body humming even though I had four walls surrounding me and a door closing me in.

Am I losing my damn mind?

It seemed utterly possible, given my physical reaction to someone I didn’t know, and in this particular moment I didn”t even see him but felt him.

I gave myself five more minutes, trying to get myself under control, which was easier said than done, before I pushed away from the sink, smoothed my hands down my thighs once more, and exited the bathroom. I made it a couple of steps before I sensed a heavy presence behind me.

I froze, my body tightening, the scent of him moving all around me. I remembered the way he smelled as we’d danced at the club just two nights before. I remembered his body pressed against mine, of his heat seeping into my skin.

And although he wasn’t touching me right now, I still felt his hands on me as if we were back on the dance floor, moving, allowing myself to experience something extraordinary for the first time.

I was about to turn around when a hand curled around my throat from behind, and then my body was spun around and pressed against the wall. The air left me violently, and adrenaline spiked in me. Not from fear, not from pain, and not because I couldn’t breathe… because although the hand was still around my throat, it was simply a heavy presence, not a suffocating collar.

No, I felt this way because I was unbelievably turned on.

I looked up and up and up again until I could stare into the blue eyes of the mystery man from the other night. His presence was still so consuming, his body so big, his shoulders so broad that I could see nothing behind him.

The shadows in the hallway were cloaking us, making everything seem hazy, a little distorted. I felt as if I was in a dream, my body taking the forefront, all logical and rational sense and thought completely leaving me.

This was why I’d come tonight.

This was the reason.

He made me feel alive, and he hadn’t said one word to me, had barely touched me. My pulse raced beneath his hand, between my thighs, and as if he read my thoughts, maybe felt the frantic thump-thump, thump-thump, his fingers tightened marginally on my throat at the same time he lowered his head toward me.

My eyes fluttered, any kind of control I had completely vanishing. I was wet, my panties soaked and sticking to my folds, my nipples aching as they pressed against my top.

Our breathing was equally frantic, identical respirations as if we’d both run a marathon, finished at the same time, and could do nothing but draw air from the other to fill our lungs.

He didn’t speak, and I didn’t know why his silence was insanely attractive. I wanted to hear his voice though. I knew it would be deep, so deep it would touch every part of my body.

My pussy clenched as I imagined him whispering filthy things against my ear, telling me all the dirty things he’d do to me. I moaned softly, unable to hold in the sound.

His body tightened against mine as if hearing the noise affected him on a physical level. I opened my eyes, not realizing I closed them. And as I stared into his face, I swore his eyes glowed red, felt like the color lit up the entire back hallway. I told myself it was a trick of the lights, neon flashes from the main part of the club that pierced the sensual darkness that covered us.

I couldn’t speak right now if my life depended on it. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move as I watched him come even closer, his scent surrounding me until I was drowning in it.

The sensation of his hard body flush with mine, the definition of his muscles against my softness, had slickness pooling between my thighs at an embarrassing rate and consistency. And I swore he could smell my desire as he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring, a low rumble leaving his chest and vibrating mine.

He was so close now, our faces only an inch apart, our gazes locked. We were both panting, his hand still curled firmly but loosely around my throat, his thumb stroking right under my ear, where my pulse point was.

He was all but holding me up, my legs like pudding, my knees slightly trembling. And when he trailed his lips along my cheek, I let my eyes close and my head rest back on the wall. Another rumbling, deep sound left him; this one I knew without a doubt was from pleasure.

And when he pressed his body even tighter against mine, I took note that I was so much smaller than him, half his size and weight, that I felt breakable. And when his monstrous erection dug against my upper belly, I wasn”t even embarrassed by the desperate and shocked sound that left me.

I was stunned at the size of him, a huge, long, and thick length that he ground against me as he rolled his hips back and forth. It was such a dirty, filthy act I was allowing a stranger to do in the dark hallway of a nightclub.

But I couldn’t stop myself. It was too good and right, as if I’d been missing out on everything that was meant to be mine.

“This isn’t right,” I said, but the words sounded wrong spilling from my lips. His deep chuckle wasn’t one of amusement but a very dark promise, as if he knew it was futile to try to stop this from happening between us. Whatever this was.

“There’s no stopping this,” he said, the words a low groan against the shell of my ear and moving right between my thighs. “It feels good to have me close, doesn”t it? Yeah,” he said without letting me respond. “Yeah, it’s so good.”

I let out an exhale at the first sound of his voice and the reaction my body had to it. Nipples beaded achingly and pussy clenching tightly, so wet my inner thighs were slippery. I knew if we’d been in a silent room, he’d hear how obscene it sounded.

“I bet that’s how you taste.” His words were nothing more than a whisper. “So fucking sweet.” He ran his tongue along the shell of my ear again before biting the lobe hard enough a little cry of surprised pain—and pleasure—moved through me.

His voice was deeper than anything I’d ever heard, brushing over me as if it was a physical touch, as if his hand was right between my thighs and adding pressure.

“I bet you’re sweeter than sugar. I bet your pussy tastes like honey, so fucking saccharine my teeth will hurt.” He pulled back, his scruffy cheek brushing against mine until we were staring into each other”s eyes again. “And I have one hell of a fucking sweet tooth, female.”

A little bit of confusion filled me at his choice of words, but that was dashed away when, with a husky groan, he slammed his mouth down on mine and kissed me thoroughly, so possessive. If he felt my inexperience, he didn’t let it show. And it was clear he wasn’t turned off by my lack of knowledge in all things sexual and affectionate with the opposite sex. Because his cock felt like it was getting harder by the second as he rolled his hips against me over and over again.

I rose up on my toes, found myself curling my hands around his impossibly thick biceps, my nails digging into his flesh, and let him take control.

And God did he take control.

The sounds coming from him should have terrified me, ones that didn’t sound human, were feral and unhinged. I felt a sting at the back of my head, realized his hand was tangled in my hair, his fingers pulling at the strands forcefully, and I moaned harder as that pain had my pleasure rising even more.

“You’re the sweetest fucking thing I’ll ever have in my life,” he murmured against my mouth and went right back to kissing me. “Yeah, just like that, Kayla.” I moaned again, and he groaned deeply. This pressure tingled against my subconscious, something that told me he’d said something that was off. But I felt too good to care about anything else.

“Just like that.”

And then there was flash of pain as he kissed me harder. I moaned in response, the pleasure going even higher, so high I never wanted to touch the ground again.

“You’re doing so good, aren”t you? Yeah, yeah, baby, you’re doing so good.” He ran his tongue over my lips, first the top, then to the bottom before he plunged it inside my mouth. He licked and sucked, drawing my tongue into his own mouth before I felt another flash of pain as he sucked on the muscle.

“Mmm… I never knew,” he hummed in approval and gave my tongue one final suck before he had his mouth at my throat. “I never knew it would be like this, that my possessiveness would make me want to kill anyone who even looks at you.”

His words were like a flash of icy water on me, and I blinked myself back to reality, pushing the desire away until I could think rationally, consciously.

“No. Wait.” I was shocked the words spilled from my mouth, shocked even more that he actually listened and took a step back. But he wore a sardonic grin, as if he knew I didn’t really want him to stop.

He slowly ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and I was transfixed by the sight of that crimson being smeared along the full swell. “So. Fucking. Sweet. Like honey, my own personal honey made just for me.”

I lifted my trembling fingers and touched my mouth, where I felt the small wound. I touched my tongue then, feeling another small wound, the coppery taste now piercing through my consciousness.

Without thinking, my fingers were on the side of my throat, where I knew the twin puncture marks were healing on my flesh. I stared at him with what felt like wide eyes and a deer-caught-in-headlights look.

His grin became wider. “My mark looks good on you. So fucking good that I could come just from the knowledge you wear it like a brand.”

“W-What are you?” I said the words, but I didn’t know if I actually wanted to know. I was shaking my head but had no clue what I was trying to deny. Something was wrong.

This man… this man was different, yet I couldn’t place why, couldn’t understand what it was about him that so obviously made him dangerous, made him stand out.

He was silent for long seconds, just staring at me as he licked his lips… lapping up what I knew was blood. My blood.

“I’m yours.” His words, his voice was so clear that it was evident he felt the truth of them without a doubt. “And you’re mine.”

I was shaking my head, my breath catching, reality flailing away. He said those last three words with such hard determination, a finality, that I couldn’t help but feel the truth of them too. But even so, I kept shaking my head, denying them.

“You can try to deny it all you want, but it makes no difference, because it”s the truth.” His grin vanished in an instant, and the expression on his face was terrifying in the most erotic way. “Because you are mine, Kayla.”

I audibly gasped at the sound of him saying my name. “H-How do you know my name?”

He let those words hang between us for a moment, and I knew by the way he watched me he wouldn’t answer me. “You’ll run,” he said, his deep voice penetrating my chaotic thoughts. “Oh yeah, you’ll fucking run.”

The way he said the words told me he… looked forward to it.

“And you’ll hide.” He took another step back, his grin widening. “But there isn’t a place on this planet where I can’t find you.” I moved to the side, my heart hammering in my chest. “And I’ll anticipate the chase because of the predator I am… and because you’re mine.”

I held a hand up, palm outward, although I knew that wouldn’t keep him away. “I’m nobody’s.”

He chuckled low. “I know I was the first male to kiss you, to touch you.” He took a step closer again, and I moved another one to the side. “I know the arousal you felt is the first you’ve ever experienced in your fragile yet precious human life.” Another one closer, another one to the side from me. “Isn’t that right, kitty?”

That little nickname shouldn’t have made me visibly shiver in pleasure, my damn body betraying me. He chuckled again and reached down to obscenely run his big palm along his huge erection, groaning low, eyes heavy-lidded as he watched me. He lowered his head but kept his gaze locked on me as he pleasured himself through his slacks.

“No one owns me,” I said again, but there was zero conviction in my words.

“Kitty,” he said and groaned again. “I like that nickname for you the most. All soft and innocent.” His gaze lowered down my body until he stared at the part of me that was wet and achy… for him. “If I pet you, would you purr for me?”

I hyperventilated at his words, at how he made me feel. And I couldn’t think as I made a choked sound and turned, running away from him.

I glanced over my shoulder, my lungs burning for how forcefully I tried to suck in air. I couldn’t breathe, was terrified at the things I felt, how my body was like a stranger to me. And with each step away from him, all I felt like doing was turning around and throwing myself into his arms, begging him to keep making me feel this way.

He was still stroking himself as he gave me one more wink.

I faced forward again and pushed people out of my way, ignoring the curses, only hearing the pounding of my pulse in my ears. I had tunnel vision, was dizzy and sweaty, so I didn’t see the man step in front of me before it was too late. I slammed into his body so hard I nearly fell back on my ass. He reached out to steady me, the scent of his breath thick with alcohol and clearing my head.

His touch was like acid on my skin, and I tried to disentangle myself from him. His mouth was moving, but I heard nothing. Then he smiled, and it happened in slow motion. His hands touching my shoulders, moving down my hips, gripping my ass until he pulled me hard against his sweaty body, and I felt his erection prodding me. He slid one hand to my chest, curling his nasty fingers around my breast.

Bile rose in my throat, and I brought my knee up, driving it hard into his groin until I was sure he made a strangled sound if I’d been able to hear at that moment.

But he let me go, and I didn’t waste time as I pushed him out of my way and ran.

And I didn’t stop until I was outside, in my car, and headed home.