Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
Larkin laughs suddenly, covering his mouth as he snickers at my words.
“Fuck,” he snorts. “I didn’t expect you to say that.
” He shakes his head and steps around Flanagan’s body on the grassy cliff top, grabs my shoulders, and yanks me to him to kiss me soundly.
My bloody hands come up to grip the front of his hoodie, and I wrench him downward to give myself better access to his mouth.
“Feral little thing,” Larkin praises. “With the worst sense of humor I’ve ever seen. Seriously? That’s what you say when you’re standing over a man’s body.” Shaking his head again, he snickers softly. “Pathetic, Sierra.”
“Tova.”
“Sierra.” He eyes me reproachfully as he says my name, a note of finality in his voice. He kisses me again, causing me to stumble, and when the body at our feet twitches, both of us look down to see Flanagan choking on a last wheeze of life.
“That’s awkward,” I murmur, but Larkin scoffs.
“He can watch.” Smiling down sweetly at the mostly dead man, Larkin shoves his hand off my ankle where the private investigator grabs for me weakly. I don’t know how he’s still breathing, but then another rattle leaves his lips, causing more blood to bubble there, and his eyes go dark.
“Is he dead now?”
“If he’s not, then he will be soon enough.” Larkin’s hands go to my hips and when I look up at him and his wolfish grin, my heart dips in anxiety.
“What are you—?” I yelp as he picks me up, though it’s only so he can throw me gently down on the grassy cliff, a few feet from the cooling body. “Larkin!” I yelp.
“Sierra,” he purrs with a chuckle, his eyes dancing. “You aren’t this dumb. You know what I’m doing.”
“Next to a dead body?”
“Be happy I’m not about to fuck you on a mostly dead body.
” He attacks my mouth with teeth and tongue, snarling promises against my lips as his hand goes to my throat.
My legs kick out at him, though it’s more reflex than anything.
I certainly don’t fight Larkin as he slots himself between my thighs and pins me there with his weight.
“But first…” He sits up, one hand still on my neck, to settle on his knees. His other hand strokes up my thigh, and the way Larkin catches my gaze in the moonlight gives me pause.
“First, I need to hear you say it.”
“Say it?” I parrot.
“Yeah.” He crawls forward until he’s braced on his hands over me, blocking out most of the light from the moon. The illumination shines around him like a halo, making him look like the most dangerous kind of angel to ever grace the earth with his presence.
That, or hell’s most beautiful devil.
“Tell me what you are, silly girl,” Larkin coaxes when I only gaze at him. “Tell me what. You. Are.” The way he repeats it sends a shiver down my spine. I drop my hands to my chest, shivering in the wind coming off the water only a few feet away.
The realization of what he wants creeps up my body, causing my toes to curl inside my sneakers.
But I don’t give him the answer he’s looking for right away.
The air around me feels charged with something more than the wind, and I feel frozen under him, under the killer with endless patience and vast charm.
As if sensing the sudden reluctance surging in my chest, Larkin moves his hand to cup my jaw. His thumb traces my lower lip, and the roots of false regret fall away like he’s personally burning them back with the fire of his own fucked-up desire.
“I’m a monster,” I whisper, the words nearly lost on the wind.
“I was never a good person.” They feel truer on my lips than anything I’ve ever said, though some part of me instinctively wants to give rationalizations and excuses.
“My mother knew somehow. Though she also made it worse.” When a smile twitches on my lips, I look away, unable to continue holding Larkin’s gaze. “I–”
He pulls my face back so I’m forced to look at him, instead of hiding by looking away again. Once more he strokes my lower lip like he’s comforting me, and as I watch, Larkin leans down to brush his lips to mine. “You don’t have to make excuses for what you are.”
The words send another shiver through me, and ignite a flame low in my body. “What if I’m worse than you?” I whisper, twining my arms around his shoulders once again to keep him in my orbit. “What if you underestimate me, and I hurt you?”
“Oh, yeah?” His voice turns teasing. “Do you really think I’m underestimating you and your box cutter, my silly little girl?
” He rolls his eyes to show his dismissal of the idea, and leans down to nudge his nose to mine, tilting my head back.
When I give him what he wants, Larkin strikes.
His teeth are buried in my throat before a gasp is half out of my mouth, and I’m arching off the ground, mind racing with the sharp, hot pain radiating from the bite.
Even when my gasp turns to a yowl of discomfort, he doesn’t let go.
He shakes his head, tearing at my throat like a dog, and I feel his tongue lapping at the flesh trapped between his canines.
Finally, he pulls away, only to do it to the other side of my throat.
More sounds of pain leave me, though my hands in his hair never move to yank him back.
The pain makes my mind race and my body flush with heat until I’m writhing and whining under him on the ground.
Only his leg anchoring me in place between my thighs keeps me from accidentally throwing him off, and he ends up moving to straddle my hips, granting him more control over my movements and saving him from the danger of getting kicked.
Before I know it, Larkin is dragging my leggings and underwear down my legs and over one foot, though he doesn’t go further than that.
Still the grass is cold under me and I gasp a little, arching off of it, and incidentally grinding my hips into him as well.
My lover growls and bites down on my shoulder, shoving me back down to the ground with a shudder.
“Do you trust me, Sierra?” he asks against my skin.
“Yes,” I gasp, unthinking.
His chuckle is low and dangerous, and when he meets my gaze, there’s a dark grin on his face. “Well, you really shouldn’t.” Without warning, he picks me up in his arms, keeping my legs around his hips. I yelp and grab his shoulders, confused as he takes a few steps.
Suddenly I realize the water is louder, but I don’t have time to wonder why before I’m on my back again, though this time on ground that’s a bit less grassy and a bit more firm. It takes a moment for me to realize why it feels strange and why the wind is so strong against my hair.
We’re at the edge of the cliff.
I shriek and jerk upward, my heart racing. “Larkin!” Writhing against him, I find myself shaking, suddenly under the impression he’s going to throw me off the cliff while I’m barely wearing pants.
How embarrassing that would be?’
“You don’t get to back out now.” With his hand at my throat, he shoves me down, my hair whipping in the strong wind.
“Just don’t be stupid, silly girl.” His Cheshire grin is full of amusement and dark, dangerous satisfaction, and as he just holds me there, a shudder goes through me, though my breathing gradually calms somewhat.
“Perfect.”
As I watch, Larkin crawls down my body, his hand leaving my throat, though he gives me a quick, warning look to stay put. When he gets to my hips, he spreads my thighs wide, and before I can do more than gasp in a breath, he buries his face between my knees to lick a stripe across my clit.
The sudden movement has me crying out, and I arch off the ground, fingers tearing at the grass.
Though I’m still hyperaware of the dangerous open air behind me.
Not that Larkin seems to care, he just teases at my folds, tongue licking and swirling over my clit a few times.
With the water crashing below, my noises are lost in the strong wind, so I’m unsure if he even hears my gasp when he slides two fingers into my wet pussy, sending a shudder through my body.
When I try to sit up, even slightly, Larkin is there to shove me back down, until finally he just keeps his hand splayed on my stomach.
It means I have nothing to do except lie there, though my thighs start shaking after a few minutes of his intense attention, in addition to the fear of being so close to my demise.
“Larkin…” I breathe, eyes sliding shut as he adds a third finger to fuck me on them languidly.
My body finally relents to the situation, the fear fading to a background aura in my brain and heart while my hips arch into his touch.
My hand reaches down to thread through his hair, and the wind and waves in my ears become something other than terrifying.
Larkin isn’t in a hurry. In fact, he seems to be enjoying working me up. By the time I’m panting and unable to stay still, I can feel the excited impatience in his movements, and the way he can’t seem to keep still.
“Fuck me,” I murmur, even though the wind tears the words away. “Fuck me on the edge of this cliff—”
“As you wish, princess.” His growled reply cuts me off, and my eyes fly open to find him staring up at me, apparently having heard me somehow after all.
He moves over me again and yanks my leg up over his shoulder until my thigh burns.
With his eyes burning into mine, I’m unable to look away as Larkin unbuttons his jeans then shoves them down his thighs, releasing his already hard cock.
“Fuck,” I breathe, to reiterate my point.
“Yeah,” Larkin agrees. His fingers dig into my thigh and without warning he sinks into me, pulling a yowl from my throat as I tilt my head back to hang over the edge of the cliff.
The wind on my face is no longer terrifying. At least not completely. The crashing of waves and burn of the cold air makes me feel on edge, and my chapped skin is already so sensitive that every movement from him makes me gasp in a sharp, needed breath.