Chapter 13 #2
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think it is. You’re either on my side, or you’re not,” I tell him.
Soren growls low under his breath. “How do I know that you’re on my side?” he asks me. “We haven’t made a fucking deal.”
“Other than the fake one you presented me with so you could lure me into my fucking death? Do you remember that one?” I step closer to him, my hands balling into fists. “The one that has my leg stitched up and someone else’s blood running through me.
Soren eyes me. “My blood.”
I blink at him. “What?”
He licks his lips for a moment. “They didn’t have enough of your blood type in stock…turns out, I’m a match, so…” he trails off.
My entire body runs hot and I swear I feel a twitch in my jeans. I try to will my body to settle down, but something about knowing that Soren’s blood is inside me—at least partially—makes my skin buzz with life and heat like no other.
“You didn’t get my consent,” I snap at him.
“Didn’t need it,” he tells me. “Besides, would you have really said no just because it was my blood?”
I stare at him, trying to ignore the rising arousal in my groin. “You’re such an ass,” I bite back. “Is this supposed to show me I can trust you?”
“No, it’s more nuanced than that; damn, you know that, but it’s a start, right?” he asks me.
I huff and shake my head. “You really think that? A start? No, a start would be telling me you’re done with your uncle’s plans,” I say. I highly doubt he’ll do it, and his next words only prove my concerns.
“I can’t do that,” he tells me.
“So, what are you going to do now, continue to try and get me killed, but then jump in and save me before my ass is six feet under? Over and over and over.” I look at him, bewildered.
“Why don’t you just do it now?” I pull my gun out of my holster and hold it out to him. “Just get it the fuck over with.”
Soren growls again, and yanks my gun from my hand.
He doesn’t hold it up to me though. Instead, he sets it down on a nearby table and then steps forward, even closer to me.
I can feel his hot breath on my face, somehow even hotter than my skin.
He smells like cigarettes and breath mints meant to hide it.
“Shut the fuck up, I’m not gonna kill you,” he insists. “I don’t—goddamnit, Carmine, I don’t want you dead, but I can’t just betray my family. What would you do if you were in my spot?”
I grind my teeth together until it hurts. “Figure a way out.”
“That’s what I’m gonna do,” Soren says. “I’m gonna figure a way to make both sides happy, but for now, if I go back and tell my uncle that not only have I completely fucked his plans up, but I’ve been fucking his plans up the ass, he’ll kill me.”
My shoulders are tight with tension.
“I could kill you right now,” I tell him in return.
“I could end your fucking life for what you’ve done.
Lied. Cheated. Played me. I bet none of what we did was even real, was it?
Just a ploy to get inside my mind by getting inside me.
” My eyes burn, and I feel a sickness in my stomach.
I tap on the side of my head for emphasis.
Soren shakes his head and grabs me by the front of my shirt. “No. Don’t go there,” he demands. “That was real. I wanted you, you wanted me.”
“You don’t know what I want, you don’t know me,” I hiss at him. My voice is thick with emotion. “You think you know so much.”
“You’re the one who thinks he knows so much,” Soren accuses me. “I know more than you’ll even admit to yourself.”
I scoff and shove away from him, despite the fact that I actually rather like the feeling of his larger and rougher hand squeezing my shirt and forcing me to be close to him. Smell him—his skin, his hair, his breath. Blood, sweat, smoke.
“What exactly won’t I admit to myself?” I ask him.
I eye him from head to toe. I have a feeling based on the smirk that pulls across his face, he really does know more than I think.
More than I’ve even comprehended myself.
I don’t like it. I want to punch him in the face—and kiss his mouth at the same time.
Kill him, kiss him… It’s all the same in this world, isn’t it?
“You like submitting to me,” he husks as he steps so close that my back is against a wall, and there’s no where else to go.
His words make a lump form in my throat and my cock harden even more.
“You dropped to your knees so fast in your office…sucked my dick like you were just waiting for the chance, Carm.”
I swallow hard and try to ignore the heat crawling up and down my stomach and back. Except he places one of his large arms beside my head and presses his body against mine. I moan softly and tilt my head back against the wall.
“I don’t know what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours all the damn time, but I know what’s going through it now,” he whispers.
“I wasn’t lying when I kissed you, when I fucked you on that couch.
When I came in your mouth… I’ve wanted you every second since I first saw you, I just tried to convince myself I didn’t. ”
My breath is shaky as I exhale, and he seems to drink the scent of my breath in, groaning and tilting his face closer to mine.
“This won’t work,” I tell him, my voice low and far needier than I have ever heard it.
“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. “Do you want it to?”
I groan and close my eyes for a second. Soren presses his hips against mine ever so slightly, and I feel his own erection through his jeans. It rubs against mine just enough to make a shiver run up my spine.
“Y-yes,” I reply. Unable to deny it. I can’t anymore.
“Good,” Soren croons at me. The sound is so delicious I can barely handle it. Every inch of me is hot and tingly. “We can either leave here and deal with the fall out now or I can take you to the nearest bed and fuck you until you pass out. Your choice, baby.”
I’m practically panting already just thinking about it. Soren grabs my arms and slowly raises them above my head and pins me to the wall even more tightly. His fingers tighten around my forearms. I should hate it. I should feel disgusting, and maybe I do. Maybe that’s part of why I like it.
I feel trapped, but I don’t feel forced. For some reason I trust that if I say “stop” he will. That Soren won’t push me further.
I don’t want to say stop. Or no. Or any variation of those things.
Instead, all I want to say, and all I do say is, “Bed…bed, please.”
Soren presses his forehead to mine for a second. “Oh, you’re a very good boy today, aren’t you? Or a naughty boy…maybe both,” he snickers and suddenly lets go of my hands.
I’m briefly worried that he’s been leading me on, but then I’m hoisted up from the ground and tossed over his shoulder like it’s nothing. I gasp and squirm in his hold.
“Soren!” I smack him on the back, and he growls as he tramps through the house with me like some wild animal until he finds a bedroom, the only bedroom, and practically kicks the door open.
“I’m going to give you what you need,” he promises me. My leg hurts. I don’t care. Not as he lays me down on the bed in the pitch black room and I feel my pants being taken off.
“Ah!” I gasp as his mouth is suddenly against my stitches.
Soren kisses along my stitched wound and then above it. His hot mouth leaves wet marks all along my calf to my knee. I can’t help but spread my thighs a bit as he works his way to them.
“Soren,” I mumble. “What—?” I start, but his teeth sink into my thigh, biting me.
A whimper escapes me and I slap my hand over my mouth.
“Ah-ah, let me hear you,” he growls after his teeth slide off my skin. There’s no blood, but the bite mark is throbbing and damp.
He quickly ascends my body and pulls my hand off my mouth, pinning my arm to the side.
“You want this?” he asks.
I barely get the word out. “Please.”
“You’re gonna have to do better than that, baby boy,” he husks. “Use your words.”
I swallow thickly. “Yes…Sir.” Just hearing myself say that makes me tremble.
Here in this room with him, it feels like no one else and nothing else exists. I don’t have to think about my duty, my father’s death, and I don’t need to worry about anything bad happening to me.
The only person who can truly hurt me now is currently tracing up the side of my neck with his tongue.
I moan and tilt my head to the side, allowing him even more access to me.
“Good boy…ahh, yes,” Soren moans into my neck.
He presses his hips to mine, settling between my thighs, and I realize he’s taken his pants off already.
Both of our lower halves are in boxers, and my hard cock twitches as I feel his solid length rub against my own through the thin fabric.
I’m suddenly grateful that I don’t wear silk boxers, as the texture of the cotton against my dick each time my hips twitch against his feels so fucking good.
“I’ve wanted you all week,” he admits just below my ear. His hands grab both of mine and pin then above my head. “All fucking week. Every day, every fucking hour.”
I start to rock my hips against his, and he squeezes my wrists harder.
“Did I tell you to fucking move?” he snaps out.
I tremble and suck in a breath. “N-No.”
“No what?” he asks. His voice is so dark, deep, so sexy.
“No, Sir,” I gasp just as he rolls his hips down against mine.
“You need to be punished. Have your naughty ass spanked,” he groans under his breath.
I feel my pulse quicken. If there was anything I never expected would make me even harder than I already am, it’s the thought of being spanked by Soren. Except, I’ve been thinking about it for longer than just tonight. I’ve been imagining it for days.
“Spank me,” I blurt out.
“Someone’s excited,” Soren nips my ear. “Sit the fuck up.”
He pulls my arms, practically rag dolling me into sitting and pulls my shirt and jacket off before quickly disrobing himself of his.