Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Trailing after Warwick, we went through a storage closet with a false panel in the back, opening up to another room.
We continued downstairs, through another secret door with a large troll-looking guard, and proceeded down more steps, which hurt like hell.
The fact I was walking at all, I took as a plus.
We came to another small door, which almost blended in with the wall. Grabbing the knob, he turned to me. “Be prepared.”
I started to ask him why as he opened the door, flooding music, a strong ammonia-like smell, and voices at me, pummeling my senses. Shocked, my eyes gobbled up what was behind the hidden door—a world you could never imagine under a butcher shop.
At least a hundred people milled around, laying, dancing, and lounging throughout the space. My jaw stayed open as I stepped into the large, hazy room with him.
Through the puffs of smoke, I could see couches, lounges, and beds—the place a sea of different types, from a four-poster canopy bed to mattresses on the floor.
Colorful fabrics draped the wooden furniture and walls.
Dozens of low-burning lamps hung from the ceiling, giving it a dim, seductive glow.
Sensual music came from speakers as men and women, fae and human, lay in various stages of undress, smoking on pipes, passed out, or fucking right out in the open.
“An opium den?” I blurted out. As ruthless and feral as this country was now, most drugs were still illegal.
That’s why the black market did so well.
Opium was one of those even the fae succumbed to.
Producers of the drug were making it magic-laced now, adding to the high and, therefore, the addictiveness.
Opium dens were highly illegal, but hardly patrolled in the Savage Lands and even rarely controlled. Istvan would only act, sending out troops, when the elite in Leopold started to hear of things on the other side of the wall and get righteous.
“Told you this place was only a butcher shop by day.” Warwick winked down at me.
“I heard him say you were the reason it even existed.” I peered back up at him.
He exhaled, his head bobbing. “I’ve known Gawel since my days of running this town. Let’s just say it was one of the numerous business ventures I got into during that time.”
“Is there anything you don’t control in some way?”
His expression lost all humor, his focus pinning me to the floor.
“You.”
The air in my lungs caught in my chest, feeling the power of his claim.
He turned to me, his enormous frame looming over mine, his fingers trailing over the top of my towel.
“The secondhand opium should help with the headache.” His hands grabbed my hips, flattening me against him. “The rest I’ll have to take care of myself.”
I already felt high, but it was all him. My drug of choice.
Taking my hand, he pulled me to an empty bed toward the back. The see-through silk drapery hanging off the teak bed didn’t give any of us privacy.
I didn’t care.
Not only did no one around us care or even understand reality anymore, but Warwick and I were past decorum. We ate propriety for breakfast with our hands.
Hunger darkened his eyes, his fingers tugging at the towel, dropping it to the ground. Shivers ran over my skin as his regard went to my breasts, his tongue sliding over his lip. Bending over, his mouth covered my nipple, flicking and sucking.
My back arched, a moan shuddering through me. My nails raked up the back of his head while his tongue flicked at the other nipple.
“Warwick . . .” I breathed, his name a demand for more.
A noise vibrated in his chest, his grip tightening on my jaw while his entire body pressed into mine. His heavy erection was hot against my naked skin; he pushed against me as his mouth collided with mine with a growl.
The man could destroy me with just a kiss, marking me with more scars and leaving me crawling out of the ruins, seeking more.
I ignored the jabs of pain when he lifted me, my legs circling his hips, our kiss desperate and needy.
Lowering me back onto the bed, his weight pressed down on me, fitting perfectly between my legs.
My hips rolled into his, craving more, desperate to feel him.
Pushing at his pants, I slipped my hand between us, my palm wrapping around him, my thumb rubbing over the head, feeling the slick bit of pre-cum.
A deep moan came up his throat before he climbed off of me.
His focus was intense as he yanked off his pants, freeing his hard cock, and chucked off his boots.
Instead of crawling back on me, he lowered himself to his knees, yanking me closer to the edge of the bed.
His hands wrapped around the sides of my underwear, dragging them down, being careful around my wound.
He spread my legs, and I felt the zing of people being all around us, able to see everything.
His teeth nipped at my inner thigh, his tongue sliding up and grazing my folds. I dropped my head back, my nails curling into the bedding, my teeth sawing into my lips.
“Look at me.” He sat back, waiting until my eyes were on him.
He grabbed an opium pipe on a side table next to the bed.
His gaze never left mine as he lit it, inhaling deeply.
Tracking his every move, he spread my legs wider, his lips trailing all the way up my thigh, humming hungrily against me.
His mouth covered my pussy before he blew the smoke into me.
My body jolted, and a rush of euphoria shredded a loud, long moan from my lips as his tongue licked through me. He took another hit, his tongue sliding in deeper, propelling more of the opium deep into my core.
“Oh, gods,” I cried out, heaving, my spine arching in utter bliss, my hips rocking desperately against his mouth. My brain could no longer compute. All I understood was pleasure. Need and desire swirled through me with dizzying speed.
Sucking and nipping, his mouth consumed me whole. Flames burned up my spine, my orgasm already sprinting too fast to the edge. I never wanted this to end. I wanted him to feast on me forever.
“Warwick!” I groaned. Noises heaved from me; cries I had never heard before. His hands clutched my ass, my legs over his shoulder, yanking me closer to him and devouring what was left. My mind was a swirl of colors, us fucking on a bloody field, walking through a battle, dead people all around us.
The Grey.
The Wolf.
The cry from my lips as I slammed brutally into my orgasm seemed to echo through the room and crashed out into the world above. Through the high, I could feel the link braiding back, skimming over my skin and brushing at my soul. His presence around me, inside me.
His mouth still on me, he sucked in sharply, feeling it weave through us both.
The bond turned my satiated body into raw need. Twisting it with so much desperation, no drug could touch it.
“Warwick,” I growled. Grabbing his head, I yanked him up. The moment he was on his feet, I shoved him flat on the bed, crawling over him.
His eyes glowed, his cock so hard the veins strained against the skin.
“Brexley,” he snarled as I straddled him. I could hear the desperation tight in his vocals. “Fuckin’ ride me, woman.” His hands clamped down on my hips. I grabbed him, positioning him at my entrance, feeling my legs shake with need.
“Ko-vacs.” He grunted, his grip yanking me down as he slammed into me.
“Fuucck!” I heard us both bellow. It was almost too much. The high of opium and the rush of our bond turned me into a ferocious fiend. Raw, feral, and unbridled. I couldn’t seem to ride him hard enough.
We were loud, savage, and brutal.
I could feel eyes on us; I could see people getting off with us. Their moans and cries only created more energy between us—like a wave that would never stop breaking over the rocks. We could never get enough, never get close enough.
“Fuck, princess,” Warwick hissed, slamming up into me, hitting me deeper.
“Don’t ever stop.” I tipped back, changing my position slightly, causing him to bark out, his eyes rolling back.
“Never,” he huffed, his hand smacking at my ass, sending tingles through me.
“Warwick . . .” My nails clawed into his chest.
“I know what you want, princess.” As soon as he said it, his shadow glided up behind me, nipping at my ear. “To have us both.”
I whimpered, feeling Warwick’s other hands glide over my skin, cupping my breasts, the feel of his skin pressing into me from behind, his mouth biting into my neck.
Our rhythm slowed into deeper and longer strokes, desire and lust curling my head back into the shadow. It wasn’t completely solid yet, but the more I let go of my thoughts, gave over to us, the more real it became.
“Brexley,” he whispered in my ear, his palm trailing down my spine, pushing me slightly over. I rolled deeper into Warwick, his fingers digging into my thighs as I felt his other tongue slide down my back, parting me from behind.
“Oh, gods . . .” I breathed out, my lids fluttering, my gaze connecting with aqua eyes, as I felt his tongue go deeper.
“This might still hurt.” Warwick clutched my face, pulling my chest against his, kissing me deeply. “Relax.” That’s when I felt him press his cock into me from behind.
I gasped roughly, my nerves burning, air locking in my chest as he pushed into me.
“Holy fuck.” Warwick’s head tipped back, a loud moan coming from him as he slipped his finger over my clit, rolling his thumb over it.
Feeling Warwick’s shadow push deeper into me, spinning my head and spreading euphoria through my veins.
I cried out, rocking between the two bodies pressed into me, sparking the savage part of me back to life. Warwick sat up, reaching deeper, his mouth sucking on my breasts as his shadow fucked me from behind, his lips nipping at my neck.
I gave myself over to it, indulging in the utter bliss.
No guilt or death.
No torture or pain.
No prisons or test labs.
It was just us.