Harlow

25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

LYNX

Ihate this fucking place. The loud music. The heady stench of cologne, sweat, and alcohol. The constant barrage of scantily dressed women sauntering over to my table and sidling up beside me in an attempt at luring me back to a room for a private dance.

But there’s only one woman in this place who has my attention.

And right now, as the DJ calls her name to the stage, she’s nowhere to be seen.

She never fucking listens.

Storming through the club, I scan the crowd in search of Harlow. When I don’t find her in the lounge or at the bar, I head to the dressing room next, bumping into her friend, Sage, on the way down the hall.

“Lynx. Hi.”

Skipping the pleasantries, I bark out, “Where is she?”

Sage recoils at the boom in my voice and responds, “I haven’t seen her. I didn’t even know she came into work tonight.”

There’s no trace of a lie on her face, so I ask her to check the dressing room. She scurries off, disappearing momentarily before returning alone, a concerned look etched on her face.

“She’s not in there.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “Yes. The room is empty. Have you checked out back? Sometimes she goes out for some fresh air.”

Gritting my teeth, I stomp toward the back door and burst through it.

What I find shocks the hell out of me.

Harlow, still dressed in her pink dancing attire, has a man pinned against the wall.

Her eyes are wild and dark, her hair’s a complete mess, and she has a broken martini glass in her hand.

It’s pressed against his throat, a small dribble of blood trailing from the jagged edge as he holds his hands in the air in surrender.

Spilling from his lips are pleas for mercy as he begs her for his life while sweat pours down his ashen face.

“Christ,” I mutter, closing the distance between us. “Put the glass down, pretty girl.”

Harlow doesn’t budge. But her hand is shaking and there are tears rolling down her cheeks. The sight of her unraveling like this causes a chain to cinch around my heart as the man continues stammering.

“Man. You’ve gotta help me. Please. This bitch is crazy.”

“Shut up,” she screams in his face, her voice cracking and knuckles bleaching white from how hard she’s gripping the stem of the glass. “Just shut up!”

Jesus. She’s going to kill the fucking guy.

“Harlow,” I say cautiously, settling a hand on her shoulder and eyeing up the prick trembling in front of her. “Is this one of them?”

“One-one of who?” the man asks desperately, damn near pissing himself in fear.

Harlow’s expression softens, a lone tear dangling on the edge of her jaw. I sweep it away with the pad of my thumb, angle her face to mine, and gaze into her caramel orbs.

Pain. So much fucking pain.

It damn near brings me to my knees.

“No,” she finally rasps, her eyes fluttering shut as a sob breaks free. “I just … I thought he …” She shakes her head as if clearing her thoughts. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Now give me the glass, Harlow,” I say gently. “And let him go.”

I watch the gears turn over in her head as she counts backward from three under her breath, exhales softly, and lowers her arm.

I pull her into me and cradle her head to my chest. She grips my shirt and buries her face there, her tears soaking through the fabric and making me feel some type of way.

I turn my attention to the man still plastered to the wall, his wide eyes darting back and forth between us.

“If I see you around here again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand,” he rushes out, his jowls jiggling as relief washes over him.

He takes a few clumsy sidesteps and then vanishes into the shadowy parking lot.

“I never should’ve let you come back here,” I murmur into Harlow’s hair, inhaling her candy scent as I stroke her back.

She shakes her head and peers up at me with glassy eyes. “I need to be here, Lynx. It’s the only way to finish this.”

Sweeping a few strands of pink hair away from her face, I tell her, “No, it’s not. Give me names, pretty girl, and this will be over before the sun rises.”

Two lines form between her pinched brows as she considers my offer. In this moment, she looks a little like the nineteen-year-old girl in her file. Pale, exhausted, and completely hollow. All that fire in her soul has died out, nothing but ashes remaining.

If she can’t find it within herself, I’ll make it my life’s mission to reignite that blaze for her. Even if it means I get burned in the process.

“I should get back inside,” she says softly, her shoulders slumping as she pulls away from me and puts too much fucking distance between us.

“Harlow,” I grate out.

She raises a hand in the air and shakes her head.

“No, Lynx. There’s nothing you can say or do to make this right. And I’ll hate you forever if you try.”

I close the space between us and back her against the concrete wall, caging her in with my palms pressed beside her head and dipping my face so our noses touch.

“If the cost of keeping you safe is you hating me forever, then so be it. I’ll pay ten times over if I have to. Because there’s not a chance in hell you’re going back inside that club, Harlow.”

And there it is … the spark of defiance that lights behind her irises every time she’s told she can’t do something.

And oh how fucking bright it burns.

“Get bent,” she snarls, dipping beneath my arm in an attempt at bolting.

Unfortunately for her, I saw the thought enter her mind before she even had a chance to act. Snaking an arm around her waist, I haul her against me, her back colliding with my chest and forcing all the wind from her lungs.

She kicks and thrashes. And I fucking laugh because I’m an arrogant asshole who loves this fiery side of her.

“You’re never going to win this battle, little killer,” I growl into her ear as I drag her around the side of the building and beneath the dark cover of the alleyway, then shove her against the wall.

Her palms splay flat beside her head, her mouth hinging open as she glares daggers up at me.

Sealing my front to her back, I sweep her hair to the side and drag the tip of my nose up the side of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent that has me fucking addicted.

“You’re mine, Harlow. It’s only a matter of time before you accept that and submit to me.”

Her body trembles. But she remains steadfast and determined.

“Never,” she sneers, jutting her ass back in an attempt at derailing me. “I’ll never submit. Not to you. Not to anyone. You’re a fool if you think I’d ever let a man control me again.”

An irritated groan rumbles behind my sternum. “When it comes to your safety, yeah, pretty girl. You will.”

“Why?” she rushes out. “Why do you care whether I live or die?”

I consider my response for a moment, knowing damn well if I tell her I want to keep her, it’ll only push her further away.

Wrapping my fingers around her left wrist, I dust my thumb over the scar there and murmur in her ear, “Because who else would grate on my every last nerve if not you?”

Her eyes flutter shut as she counts backward from three and exhales a shaky breath. Before she has a chance to respond, I spin her around and crush my lips to hers.

To my surprise, she doesn’t fight me on it.

“So goddamn sweet,” I murmur against her mouth, delving a hand into her hair and angling her head back so I have access to her neck.

“Lynx,” she rasps as I nibble and suck and kiss her all over, desperate for more of her.

But it’s not enough. With Harlow, it’s never fucking enough.

She tugs at my hair, and I bite her neck. When she drags her nails across my shoulder, I grip her ass. And when she nips at my bottom lip, I hiss and rock my hips into her so she can feel how fucking hard I am.

She gasps, staring up at me with wide doe eyes.

“Yes or no, pretty girl.”

She wets her lips, swallows, and sends me flying over the edge with a whispered, “Yes.”

A satisfied rumble vibrates from my chest. It’s followed swiftly by the unbuckling of my belt. The zip of my pants. The snap of her silly pink panties as I pull them to the side and spin her around so she’s bent at the waist and facing the wall.

She props her hands against the concrete as I kick her feet apart and grip her hips, relishing at how tiny she is in my hands.

Dragging the steel balls of my piercing over her slick seam, I tease her until she’s dripping wet and arching her back.

“Please, Lynx.”

“Not yet,” I snarl, my hands worshipping her gorgeous body as my cock delves between her folds and smears her juices all around.

When my tip glides over the tight little knot of muscle between her cheeks, she tenses and tries to pull away.

I grip her hips and hold her in place. “Has anyone had you here before, pretty girl?”

A strangled whimper gets lodged in her throat.

“Yes,” she rasps, her voice cracking as she squeezes her eyes shut.

I grit my teeth and bring my mouth to her ear. “Relax for me, Harlow. I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” I tack on, “At least, not right now.”

She exhales and lowers her shoulders as I continue teasing her clit with my piercing.

Only once her juices are dripping down her thighs and she’s begging for me to give her what she wants do I push inside her in one heady thrust, throwing my head back on a groan.

Her breath hitches at the intrusion, her nails digging into the wall as she rocks her hips back, taking every last inch of me.

“Fuck yes,” I growl, reaching around and pressing my thumb to her clit. “Greedy little thing.”

She moans my name and the caveman in me beats his chest in victory.

“Christ, Harlow. You take me so well,” I tell her as I begin thrusting in and out of her at an agonizingly slow pace.

She rasps, “More,” and I chuckle darkly.

“As you wish, little killer.” I smack her ass and pick up the pace, fucking her hard and fast while fondling her perfect tits and thumbing her engorged clit.

But I’m a fucking glutton because it still isn’t enough, having her like this.

Claiming her in the alley of the fucking strip club she works in.

Making her moan and writhe and claw helplessly at the wall as I lead her closer and closer to the edge, our bodies slapping together and her arousal coating the skin where we’re connected.

Christ. My dick is painfully hard, and I’m having difficulty holding back.

She must know this because when I tell her, “Come for me, pretty girl,” she angles her head and peers at me over her shoulder, a dare dancing in her eyes as she bites her lip and smirks.

“Make me,” she says playfully, meeting my thrusts with perfect timing.

My lips hook into a grin, and I fist her hair and jerk her head back, angling her face to mine.

“Open wide and stick out your tongue, little killer.”

She obliges, her mouth hinging open as she sticks her tongue out and flattens it for me.

Gathering my saliva, I thrust into her once more and spit into her mouth. “Now swallow.”

When she only stares at me with a rebellious look in her eyes, I pinch her clit in warning.

She gasps, her eyes rounding at the edges. Finally, her mouth snaps shut and she swallows my spit.

But the look on her face … Fuck. Pure insolence.

“Good girl,” I growl, thrusting in and out of her at a slower pace and hitting that fleshy spot inside of her that I know drives her wild.

She moans helplessly, her body trembling as she claws at the wall and takes everything I give her.

It isn’t long before she shatters, her pussy convulsing as she throws her head back and cries my name into the desolate alleyway, her moans echoing off the walls and sending me soaring higher than any drug ever could.

I meet her there shortly after, grunting out my release deep within her, my cum painting her insides as I whisper words that make no goddamn sense into her ear because I. Am. Fucking. Addicted.

When I finally come back down to earth, we’re both panting and deadly silent. Whatever this is between us, it’s unchartered territory that neither of us know how to navigate.

This possessiveness that’s burning through me …

I’ve never experienced anything like it before.

This raw, uncut desire to kill every fucker who dares glance in her direction.

To protect her while simultaneously destroying her, just so I have the pleasure of rebuilding her walls stronger than they were before.

Even if it means barricading myself in the process. Just so she’s fucking safe.

This is it for me, isn’t it? This is how I die.

Desperate to get my head straight, I pull out of her, hissing at the loss of connection as I tuck my cock back into my jeans.

When she stands upright and goes to adjust her panties, I stop her, spinning her around and pressing her shoulders against the concrete wall.

Gazing down at her, I slip my hand between her thighs and gather her juices and my cum with my fingers and bring it to her lips.

“I told you you’d submit to me, little killer. Now open up and taste us.”

The defiance in her eyes flares briefly before she opens her pretty mouth and sucks on my fingers, her tongue darting out to lap every last drop up.

“Good girl.”

“Always,” she responds coyly, batting her eyelashes as a playful smirk tugs at her raspberry lips. But behind that mask of innocence lies a hellion that I just know is going to make me regret my next decision.

Gently coiling my fingers around her throat, I tip her head back and brush my lips over hers, sampling us for myself.

“So fucking good,” I growl. “And good girls … They get rewarded.”

She cocks a brow. “I thought that was my reward.”

I shake my head. “No, pretty girl. Your reward is finishing your shift.”

Her expression falls flat and annoyed. “You already promised I could keep my job. So how exactly is that a reward?”

“Because I changed my mind. You’re done here after tonight, Harlow.

And you’ll finish your shift with my cum seeping out of your perfect little pussy.

Because you’re mine now. And I want every-fucking-one inside that place to know it.

To fucking smell me on you. To see your silly little panties soaked with a heady cocktail of you and me.

I’m staking my claim, little killer. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. ”