Keeper

Sixteen

I ’m exhausted when I finally make it back to my room. So tired, in fact, that I’m prepared to sleep in this silver, glittery dress — until I see the newest little gift on my pillow.

It’s a mask. All black, big enough to cover my face from my forehead to just under my nose, and absolutely stunning in its details. There’s a note just under it that I pick up a little too quickly.

It’s okay to want this, little keeper.

If you decide to take it, there’s a driver downstairs waiting for you.

Let me give you what he won’t.

Glancing longingly at the sleeping pills resting on my nightstand, I tuck the note away and grab the mask. I know what the consequences are. I do. Maddy has been obsessively tracking my cycle since Ephraim made me take that first pregnancy test, so I know that tonight of all nights, I’m ovulating. There are never any guarantees, of course, but chances are good, really good, that following through with this will lead to a baby.

How can I justify bringing a child into this mess?

With so many lives on the line... how can I not?

It’s the same dilemma that kept me from saying yes to Dray immediately. It’s not about me, not really. My life doesn’t matter. It never has. This is about Morella, the children, Dray having to raise his son or daughter as a niece or nephew, Alex having to claim kids that aren’t his. It’s about Ephraim being a controlling, cruel man who has no boundaries, no humanity when it comes to getting what he wants. It’s about Draven Creed being a serial killer. He may not be in it for gratification like most, but I’ve seen him take a life twice now. It would be foolish of me to think he’d never done it before. How many people lost their lives because of him? How many more are just biding their time, waiting for the moment he strikes?

Everything tells me not to do this. Logic, reason, basic human decency.

But the darker parts of me, the ones that led me here in the first place, the ones that have kept me alive so far? They don’t care about the consequences. They want him, want this. They want the thrill, the adrenaline, the taboo. The drama.

It’s not a good look and I know that.

I also know that when push comes to shove, I will protect myself — and I can’t do that by sitting around and hoping something changes. Ephraim knows. He knows it’s not just an issue of timing or luck, he knows Alex’s heart lies elsewhere. The truth won’t save us. Inaction won’t save us. But there’s a chance, however small, that Draven can.

So I grab that mask and I don’t look back.

––––––––

W hen the driver drops me off at a mansion in Watershed, my hackles rise. I get it, it’s not very smart for Draven to have these types of parties at home where someone can catch him, but this feels... almost as dangerous. Watershed is full of the richest, most well-connected people in Ephraim’s world. I’m sure most of them already know Dray has these parties, but who does he throw them for?

I guess it doesn’t matter. This one’s for me.

There’s no one guarding the front as I slip my mask on and make my way inside. The entire first floor has been gutted, save for staircases that run up to the second floor near the walls and a few scattered support beams. The far side of the house has been turned into a DJ booth, there are strobe lights and speakers everywhere I look, and the crowd is so thick it makes it hard to see where one person ends and another begins.

It’s entrancing.

Already, I see hands slipped underneath dresses, hear the sultry moans of people getting what they came here for.

It’s fucking hot. The exhibitionism, the hedonism, the anonymity of it all... I see why he does this. It’s primal.

I’m swept up quickly by a couple wearing fox masks. At first, it’s just dancing, moving with them to the slow, pounding rhythm of the music. But then hands start to roam. I feel them everywhere, and not just four. Six, eight, ten, maybe. I lose count. I’m so wet from the attention that when someone — not just someone, it’s never just someone — wearing a red devil mask that covers the top half of his face pulls me away, I’m breathless and flushed.

Draven.

I’d know those eyes anywhere.

My body melts into his, and when the hands of others attempt to return to my body, he snaps his fingers at them once, making all contact cease. The power he has, the possessive way he holds me, the fact that he’s already hard has me so goddamn wet I’m tempted to rid myself of my soaked panties.

“You came,” he comments next to my ear, and all I can do is nod.

I did. I made this choice.

And I don’t want to talk.

I don’t want to think about who’s watching, who might tell, or how many other women Draven has fucked in this very house. I don’t want to think at all.

Tilting my head, I catch him in a kiss that starts off slow. He grips my ass with one hand and the back of my neck with the other, his tongue swiping inside in a way that suggests we have all night. And maybe we do. No one here seems to be rushing anywhere, but I can feel him lose patience more with each passing second. He’s waited too long to have me.

Before I realize what’s happening, he’s lifting me up to wrap my legs around his body and backing me up against the far wall so he can grind himself against me.

We’re not exactly out of sight. No one is paying attention right now, they’re all too consumed by the people they’re touching, the drugs they’ve taken to notice us. But they could. At any moment, someone could look over and see us, see me with a man who isn’t my future husband.

I should’ve left the ring on my nightstand.

Yet none of that is enough to stop me from reaching down to palm him, from snapping the button on his pants and licking into his mouth.

He sets me down carefully, then reaches under my dress as he smiles against my lips, the evidence of how badly I want this shining on his thick fingers. “You’re dripping, little keeper. Let me help you with that.”

Draven slowly kneels down, removing my panties without breaking eye contact. I watch him tuck them into his pocket before he lifts my leg up over his shoulder and lifts my dress, exposing my cunt to him, to the world, to whomever might be watching.

And then he licks me.

It’s just a tease at first, just to see what I’ll do. Just to watch my body twitch, my cheeks flush, my pussy drip a little more. I tangle my fingers in his hair as the world fades until he’s all I see, all I feel.

And then he devours me.

His fingers dig into my skin as he sucks my clit into his mouth, a growl leaving him that travels all the way through my body. “Smell so fucking good!” I’m surprised I heard him at all. “Taste so fucking good!”

I realize then he’s yelling it so I can, so the whole world can hear him as he eats my pussy without shame.

Dray pushes his tongue inside of me and laps up some more before returning to my clit, filling me with two fingers and curling them until my legs are shaking and I’m grinding against his mouth.

“Don’t stop,” I beg, hips twitching and heart pounding. I’m close, so fucking close. I want the devil below me to be covered with it, covered with me, my pleasure. Fuck everyone else. It’s my turn. “Don’t—”

Just then he brushes against my g-spot and hums, making me see stars that only exist with the most intense orgasms. My eyes water with my release and the realization that it’s been so fucking long since anyone has put my pleasure first. As my body gingerly comes down from that high, he licks me through it until I’m spent, placing one last kiss on my clit before looking up at me with a smile.

His plump lips glisten with my arousal, snapping something inside me. I grab him, drag him up, and lick the taste of myself from his lips.

I need him. All of him. Now.

He’s lifting me up and carrying me again, only making it to the bottom of the stairs before he’s slamming me against the wall again. “Goddamnit, Sullivan. Do you know what you fucking do to me?”

He kisses me again before I can respond, stealing my breath, my patience. “Yes, I do. The same thing you do to me.”

I slip from his grasp, holding my dress up as I climb the stairs quickly. If he wants to be alone for this, fine, I don’t need an audience — but I’m done waiting.

The look in his eyes when I glance over my shoulder has me tripping on the top step, but he’s on me in a flash, tossing me over his shoulder to take me to the biggest room.

I’m flushed by the time he’s ordered everyone out, not one person from the orgy muttering any sort of protest at the command of their bastard prince, and the power he radiates has me desperate for more.

Draven tosses me on the bed and stares down at me hungrily as he begins unbuttoning his shirt. “That dress,” he growls. “Any chance you know what my favorite color is, woman?”

“No,” I lie, like Shay didn’t tell me months ago that Dray had a thing for silver and gold. Silver more than anything. No, I didn’t choose this dress tonight specifically to draw him in, to make him want me. Of course not. I’d never use the secrets I learn like that.

Seeing through me, he smiles. “Take off that mask,” he commands. “It’s just you and me now, and I’m going to watch you fall apart for me over and over again. No shying away, no second guessing.”

No mask to soften the blow.

The anonymity was supposed to make it easier. Sure, he knows it’s me and I know it’s him. But with the masks, it’s easier to pretend.

Maybe this is a good thing. I don’t want to pretend.

Slowly, I take the mask off and toss it aside, then ditch my shoes.

He grips my ankle before I can start on my dress, then begins to help me out of it himself, his eyes roaming every inch of exposed skin he reveals like he’s in awe of me. “You are exquisite, Sullivan. A fucking gift I intend on claiming for myself whether the world wants me to or not.”

Once I’m bare for him he drops down to suck my nipple into his mouth as he shoves his pants away, and I feel myself get a little frantic. It’s been too long since I’ve had someone, but longer since I’ve had someone who actually gave a shit about me. Draven just killed the last one.

I tug his hair hard, pulling his face to mine so I can kiss him again and bite his lip until it bleeds. He should know I’m angry. That I want to punish him as much as I want to please him.

The growl I pull out of him makes me twitch, but that’s nothing compared to what I feel when the heat of his hard cock slides against my pussy for the first time. “Eyes on me.”

The second I blink up at him he pushes all the way inside, not easing in or warning me at all.

It’s overwhelming in the best way.

My nails dig into the skin of his shoulder as my lips part in shock and my cunt spasms.

When he smiles down at my body’s reaction, he looks like a true devil in that mask. There’s blood on his bottom lip daring me to lick it away, so as I remove that mask from his beautiful face, I do.

The action snaps something in him. He draws back to slam deep again with a grunt, and when his left hand reaches up to grip my throat, I succumb. Completely. If he kills me, if he makes me cum, if he knocks me up, it doesn’t make a difference. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of begging, of hiding, of denying myself the pleasures these men take freely.

So he can kill me, if he wants.

But he won’t.

“Go ahead, baby. Choke me.”

“I wanted to fuck you the moment you walked into that house,” he breathes against my cheek. “You’ve haunted me, woman. Tormented me every single day since.”

He doesn’t think that goes both ways, how cute. How many nights did I dream of this, of him? Of being completely at his mercy, pinned down and speared? Too many.

He doesn’t haunt me, he’s... infected me.

“You have me now,” I remind him, hooking my ankles behind his ass and holding him still. I want to feel all of him, the way it stretches me. “No one can stop you.”

“No one and nothing. I don’t care if the world ends around us, little keeper. Nothing can pull me away from you.”

We share a moment we probably shouldn’t then, with his forehead pressed to mine and his cock buried deep inside of me. I know he feels what I do. This is right. With everything around us telling us this is wrong, our bodies and souls feel the weight of their error. As we truly come together, when his lips find mine and he starts to move again, I admit to myself that I wish it was him. Not Alex.

Draven isn’t the wrong brother, he is.

But these feelings have to stay here.

He’ll never be mine, not in the ways that matter.

Which means he needs to understand what he’s doing. Before he really goes through with this, he needs to know the truth. “I’m ovulating,” I rush out, regretting the words the second they leave my lips. I don’t want him to change his mind. I don’t want him to stop. “Dray, I’m — I’m ovulating.”

His cock pulses inside of me, those blue eyes looking wilder than I’ve ever seen them, and then his hand tightens around my throat.

He fucks into me hard, desperate to claim me for his own. “I’m going to breed you tonight, little keeper. And as your pretty little belly swells, you’re going to remember who it is that truly owns you.”

Pretty and pristine, but not pure. Never pure.

Not me.

Smiling, I press up into his hand and flex my cunt, driving him wild. “Better make it count then, baby. Don’t miss.”

Draven huffs a laugh, hips pounding faster, smile fading away to something much more feral with each thrust. “Sullivan.”

Hearing my name on his lips in a time like this reminds me that he knows who he is, what he’s doing. What he’s risking.

He knows and he doesn’t care.

I lose myself in that feeling, the knowledge and certainty that comes with it. I won’t be alone anymore. He’ll be just as wrapped up in this as I am, just as at risk. Yet he’s choosing to tie our lives together anyway.

It gets me out of my own head, and just as I hit the edge, Draven moans as if he’s right behind me. When my cunt flexes around him, he cusses, cock throbbing so hard I know he’s fighting off his impending orgasm. “Fuuck!”

No. I need it. It’s mine.

“Come inside me,” I rush out desperately. “Breed me, Draven. Don’t waste a drop.”

His hand moves up to cover my mouth, but it’s too late. My words have already penetrated the thin wall he was trying to build, and when he slams himself deep inside of me with a guttural growl, I know I’ve won.

Draven Creed — my future brother in law — has bred my ovulating body, and I’m not going to do a damned thing about it.

Let it work. It’s up to fate now, but that bitch owes me one.

“Gotcha,” I mumble behind his hand.

He releases a breathless laugh, his head shaking lightly, and I still feel him pulsing inside of me every few seconds. “What am I going to do with you?”

He slaps my cheek softly and then kisses me again, slower this time, like he’s savoring it.

It’s a fair question.

We have things to talk about now, but not while he’s still inside of me. It’ll come later, the details, the scheming. For now, for this one little moment, I want to enjoy it.

I don’t feel much like a pawn tonight.

I feel like a queen.