42. Riley
My heart lurches.I have to get Chloe out of here, but if we run, whoever it is I just heard on the stairs will follow.
At least, if we both run.
“Go,” I breathe quietly, tilting my head toward the back door. “Head east.” She stares at me blankly, frozen in place, and I point emphatically. “That way. I’ll just be a few minutes behind you.”
But Chloe is already shaking her head, one hand covering her mouth as her eyes shimmer brightly in the faint light.
She doesn’t want to leave me. I get that. But she has to. The Reapers are ruthless, and this is my only chance to get her out of their house.
“Go,” I hiss. “Now, Chloe!”
I give her a little push, and she finally jerks into motion and slips past me, heading for the back door.
I want to watch and make sure she gets out of the house okay, but I don’t have time for that. Every second counts, so I quickly shuck off my shoes and socks, pants, and sweatshirt, then dart back toward the stairs, keeping my footsteps as light as possible.
I need to cover for Chloe for as long as I can, giving her a chance to get away from these fucking monsters that I was stupid enough to start to trust. I’ll figure out how to leave the house myself once whichever man suddenly decided he needs a late night snack goes back to sleep.
It turns out it’s Maddoc, and he’s just reaching the bottom of the stairs when he looks up and sees me.
“What are you doing up?” he asks, his eyes heavy-lidded from sleep. He’s dressed in a pair of gray sweats and a soft looking t-shirt that clings to his muscles.
Dammit. If he came downstairs because he heard us, I’m fucked.
But instead of looking suspicious, his gaze slides down my body before slowly coming back to my face, a hint of a smile hovering around his lips. I knew what I was dressed in before wouldn’t pass as sleep clothes, but now all I’ve got on are a pair of panties and a thin t-shirt.
Desire flares in his eyes for a half second, there and then quickly masked behind his usual stoic expression as he tilts his head. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“No,” I tell him, keeping my voice light as I do my best to block out every single worry about Chloe getting away, every memory of him laughing with Dante about how they’re going to use her like a pawn. “Chloe’s out like a light, and I dozed for a little bit. But I guess I just have too much adrenaline leftover from the fight at the warehouse.”
He nods. “That can happen. After the first gunfight I was in, I drank half a bottle of whiskey and still couldn’t sleep. It gets easier. And you did well. A hell of a lot better than I did, my first time out.”
He chuckles quietly, and it fucking hurts. If I didn’t know what I know, the way he’s looking at me right now would make my stomach flutter. It would almost make me believe that those moments when he seemed to care about me were real.
I don’t know if Chloe has made it out of the house yet, but either way, I need to keep him distracted. I can’t let him go poking around downstairs and realize that she’s fled.
“Um, I’m actually glad you’re awake,” I say quickly, moving toward Maddoc, desperate to keep his focus on me in case Chloe makes a noise as she slips out the back door. “I was going to head to the kitchen for something to eat, but…”
I dig deep, putting everything I have into summoning back the way I was feeling about him before.
Before I heard that damning conversation of his.
Before I knew about his betrayal.
I rest a hand on his chest, right over the soulless void where his blackened heart beats, and let him see everything I felt then—before—in my eyes. “But since you’re here, I wanted to say thank you.”
My gut twists as I speak the words, but I ignore it, keeping my focus on Maddoc.
“For Chloe,” I go on, smiling softly up into his eyes. “For saving her. Tonight meant everything to me.”
It’s the same thing I said to Logan, and I meant it with all my heart when I whispered it to him, but right now, it’s just a performance. The most important one of my life, with stakes a hell of a lot higher than just getting a few dollars tucked into my g-string.
Maddoc stares down at me, his face half in shadow at this angle. Then one hand brushes lightly down my side, skirting around the stitches at my waist.
“You’re welcome, butterfly,” he murmurs quietly, sounding so sincere that it makes me hate him even more. “Did Logan fix you up?”
I nod, not trusting myself to say anything that isn’t “fuck“ followed by ”you.” But then I hear something in the distance, a faint sound from outside. I’m not sure Maddoc even heard it, and I’m not sure if it’s Chloe, but I can’t afford to have him investigate.
So I do the first thing I can think of to draw his focus. Acting on pure instinct, I go up on my tiptoes and kiss him.
He stiffens, not kissing me back at first, and for a split second, I think I’m truly fucked.
He knows.
He’s going to push me aside and go after her. Chase her. Catch her.
But then it’s like a damn breaks inside him. His arms band around me, hauling me against his tall, broad frame. His lips turn hungry, forcing my mouth open as he backs me against the wall at the base of the stairs and pins me there. He kisses me back, hard and hot and completely unchecked, like he’s been starving for this. Like he can’t help himself.
The kiss feels like being bowled over by a tidal wave, like I’m drowning in it with no hope of surviving.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts, nipping at my lip before sliding his tongue into my mouth again. Devouring me. Consuming me. His hands roam my body as if he’s trying to map every inch of it with the same precision as that damn map in his office, groping and squeezing my ass, my breasts, my hips.
“Goddammit, you taste so good,” he groans. “Why do you have to taste so fucking sweet?”
All of his usual calm control burns up in a flash of heat that feels like it could burn us both to the ground as he grinds against me, his tongue sliding into my mouth like a promise.
His cock thickens, pressing against my stomach, and my heart jackrabbits in my chest.
I want to kill him for his betrayal, but I still wind my arms around him as an undeniable, throbbing heat spills through me. The attraction between us has always been something chemical and dangerous, something that defies reason or logic. And now that the fuse has been lit, it’s too late to stop it.
His lips move down my throat. Biting. Marking. Lighting me up in ways that I hate myself for.
He lied to me.
He wants to use my sister.
He’s the enemy.
I close my eyes and repeat it over and over as I tangle my fingers in his thick dark hair, holding his head in place and moaning when he sucks hard on the delicate skin.
It fucking hurts. And it’s fucking fire.
Arousal arcs through my body, and his hands go to my ass, lifting me against him. I wrap my legs around his waist, the cold metal of the gun he always tucks in the back of his waistband a stark reminder of who he really is.
“Maddoc,” I gasp, rolling my hips as the pressure of his cock against my clit makes sparks flash at the edges of my vision.
“Gonna make you come so hard,” he promises, the hand he’s got under my ass urging me to grind harder against him.
I groan, burying my face against his shoulder as hatred battles with the fierce heat blazing inside me. I’m only vaguely aware of the dirty things he keeps whispering as he carries me away from the stairs.
Chloe’s gotten clear of the house by now. She must have. But she’s smart. She’ll keep going. She’ll trust me to find her, and the farther she gets, the safer she’ll be. So this, whatever I have to do to keep Maddoc occupied, is necessary. I need to give her as much time as I can, so that she can get as far away from this pit of traitorous vipers as possible.
Maddoc carries me into the kitchen and lowers me to my feet, attacking my mouth again like he’s feasting on something he’s denied himself for too long.He growls against my lips, his hands skimming my waist lightly enough that I know he’s being careful of the stitches despite how obviously turned on he is. Then he grabs my ass again, gripping it in a possessive hold.
I want to scream at him. He’s already hurt me where it counts, so acting like he gives a shit now, acting all careful and considerate of my injury, is nothing but another lie. Another reason to hate him.
I deliberately twist away, needing to feel the pain as the move pulls hard on my stitches.
I hope it bleeds.
But Maddoc doesn’t let me get far. He grabs me again, his lips and tongue and teeth working their way down my throat and driving the pain into the background. Pure sensation, electric and sharp, shoots through me like lightning, straight down to my core.
“Fuck,” I gasp, hating how good it feels.
Maddoc laughs, low and dirty, as he carries me through the kitchen. We crash into one of the stools at the island, and it wobbles, almost toppling to the floor. It stays upright, thank fuck, and Maddoc’s tongue traces the throbbing pulse point on my neck as he sets me down on the counter next to the fridge. One of his hands stays at my waist while the other pins my wrists against the cabinet above me.
“I’ve been going fucking crazy,” he mutters. “You drive me goddamn crazy, butterfly, do you know that? Never been so tempted to break every one of my rules.”
“So break them,” I pant, a challenge in my voice.
He groans against my mouth and lets go of my hip to delve his hand into my panties, sliding his fingers through my folds. I’m wet already, and we both moan at the feel of it as he presses a finger inside me. He slides it deep, and even though it’s not as thick as his cock would be, the intrusion makes my inner walls clench down tightly around him as he pumps it in and out a few times.
Using my arousal to slick the way, he circles my clit with the finger that was just inside me. Once. Twice. The third time, I buck against his hand, my fingernails digging into his shoulders, and he flicks my clit in response. I can’t tell if it’s meant to be a punishment or a reward, but the sparks of pleasure cascading through my body really don’t care what it is.
“Lose the shirt,” Maddoc commands, letting go of my wrists to allow me to pull off the thin t-shirt.
As it drops to the floor, he tugs sharply at my panties, sliding them down my legs and tossing them away.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs once I’m fully naked, running his hands over my body with a firm, possessive touch. “Been wanting this for way too fucking long.”
He cups my breasts, thumbs rubbing harshly over my pebbled nipples, and I bite my lip to try to control my reaction to him. The way he’s touching me, rough and possessive and unrestrained, would be fucking perfect… if it were anyone else but him.
If it were any moment but this.
Instead, it’s torture.
It’s too fucking much, now that I know it’s all built on lies.
Tears leak from my eyes, and I kiss him hard to distract both him and myself, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants.
“Fuck.” He bites out the word, grabbing my hand to stop me. “Easy. I’m not coming in my pants tonight, butterfly. Not when I’ve got you right where I’ve been wanting ever since you came to our house.”
Taking a small step back from me, he tugs the gun he almost always has with him from the waistband of his pants, setting it down on the counter before kicking off the gray sweats and his boxer briefs.
Then he moves like lightning, spinning me around and planting a hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me down over the counter as he leans over me. He rubs his thick cockhead along my wet slit as he nudges my legs apart.
“Fucking need this,” he mutters, lining himself up. “You want me to fuck you? You want my cock?”
I can’t make my mouth form the words, but it doesn’t matter. My head is already nodding, my body having completely lost track of the line between subterfuge and raw desire.
“Such a good fucking girl,” Maddoc groans. Then he drives into me, bottoming out with a single thrust.
“Jesus fuck,” I pant, my hips slamming into the edge of the counter and my pussy clenching around his thick shaft.
This is all just a ploy to distract him, but my body doesn’t care. It craves the hard fuck he promised. It wants this, no matter what the consequences may be.
“Shit,” Maddoc grits out, gripping my hips tight enough to bruise as he grinds into me, already buried deep but still trying to go deeper.
He sucks in a shuddering breath as his hips press against my ass, like he’s struggling for control.
“You shouldn’t feel this fucking good,” he mutters, finally pulling back before slamming home again. And then again. Going just as hard as he promised. Fucking me brutally enough to make my legs shake.
“Fuck, yes, please,” I beg, telling myself the words are just an act. That the pleasure is a lie. I’m so fucked up in the head that I don’t even know what’s true anymore.
He drives into me, then cracks his hand against my ass without any warning.
“Oh god,” I gasp, my pussy tightening around his cock as the sharp sensation rocks through me, too hot and urgent to be called pain, too fucking intense to be pleasure.
“God isn’t listening, baby,” Maddoc mutters, one callused hand rubbing over the hot sting as he keeps fucking me hard. “But I am. And I want to hear you scream my fucking name.”
He spanks me again, and I go up on my tiptoes as an electric current of sensation surges through my body. “Shit. Don’t… stop.”
“Won’t,” he grunts out. “Can’t. Fuck, I need to see my marks on you again.”
His palm collides with my ass two more times, each one intensifying the feelings building up inside me, and when he suddenly stills with his cock buried to the root inside me, my jaw drops in surprise.
“Red looks really fucking good on you,” Maddoc murmurs, dragging me upright and pushing my hair aside to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss behind my ear. “But I want to see your face when you come for me. I want to see every expression. Every breath. Every-fucking-thing.”
He pulls out and turns me around to face him, his eyes burning into me, and my pulse jumps.
I don’t want him looking at me right now. I’m too raw. So full of fucked-up, conflicting emotions that it will be a struggle to keep him from seeing too much truth if his eyes are on my face as he fucks me.
So instead of letting him watch me, I palm the back of his head and crush my lips to his again, throwing myself into it as if I’m hurling myself off the edge of a cliff.
He groans into my mouth, gripping my thighs and lifting me onto the counter a split second before he slams into me again.
“So… damn… good,” he grunts with each thrust after finally breaking our kiss. But thank fuck, he doesn’t look at me. At least, not at my face.
He stares down at my pussy instead, his eyes full of desire and a fierce possessiveness as he watches his cock ram into me.
He’s taking me apart, driving into me so hard that each thrust shoves me backward on the counter.Each time, he drags me close again with a tight grip on my hips that keeps me anchored. And each time, it makes me feel owned and wanted, fucking with my head even more.
Letting out a low, feral noise, I nip at his bottom lip and then kiss him hard. It’s just as savage as the way he’s claiming me, and it’s exactly what I need to unleash all the twisted feelings inside me. A wild, totally out-of-control kiss that’s as cruel and punishing as I can make it.
Maddoc takes it all. Hell, he seems to like it, fucking me even harder when I bite his lips and claw his back.
It pushes me over the edge, forcing me to finally give him exactly what he wants.
I come in a rush, an orgasm tearing through me and dragging a guttural cry from my lips. His name is buried in the sound somewhere, and I rip my mouth away from his and muffle the noise against his neck, hating how good it feels.
He fucks me right through it, cursing roughly as his hips stutter.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck. Gonna fill you up. Take my cum. Just like that, you’re so fucking good.”
His relentless rhythm finally breaks as he follows me over the edge, his hips jerking. I feel his cock swelling, pulsing inside me with each jet of cum, and then he finally slows to a few final, deep thrusts.
“Shit,” he breathes, the sound dragging out on a slow exhale. “I’ve imagined this way too many times. But this was better.”
His body is draped over mine as I lean back on the counter, his cock still buried inside me, barely softened at all. For a single, blissful moment, it’s all gone. All the anger, the hurt, the pain. Nothing else exists but the two of us and the connection that shimmers between us like a spiderweb.
Then the fierce pleasure that rocked through my body turns into something toxic and poisonous.
Maddoc nuzzles my neck, and my skin crawls.
I have to get out of here. I can’t fucking be here anymore.
Chloe is long gone by now, I’m sure of it. She’s free. But I never gave any thought to how I might get out after she escaped. All I cared about in the moment was covering for her so that she could get out of the house without being seen.
As Maddoc lifts his head and smooths my hair back, his eyes warm and his face flushed, my gaze drops to the gun he left on the counter.
Moving in a flash, I wrap my fingers around the cool steel, gripping it tightly. Before I can stop to consider what I’m doing or second guess myself, I lift it to Maddoc’s temple.
He stiffens, the warmth in his expression turning to shock. He pulls back, just far enough to look into my eyes… and rolls his hips just enough to remind me that his cock is still buried inside me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, butterfly?” he asks, his voice eerily calm as he narrows his eyes.
I grit my teeth and press the gun harder against his skin, grinding it into his temple.
“What I have to,” I bite out. “What you made me do. You forced my hand when you betrayed me.”
My finger curls around the trigger, my pulse racing. Maddoc’s nostrils flare as he senses the movement, and tension crackles in the air as he holds my gaze, his gray eyes churning like storm clouds.
Then he moves.
It’s so sudden and smooth that it catches me by surprise, one muscled arm shooting up and knocking into my forearm with bruising force.
The gun flies out of my gasp, and he jerks away from me, his cock slipping free as he dives for it.
Fuck. No!
I push off the counter and land on him with a grunt, grappling for control as we both reach for it, my hands sliding on his naked, sweat-slick skin.The gun goes skittering across the floor, and I cling to his back as he lunges for it, then scratch and claw at his face, digging my fingers into his hair and yanking his head back to keep him from reaching it.
He’s a better fighter than me, stronger and more well-trained, but I’m running on pure adrenaline and a primal, bone-deep will to survive. I lash out with everything I have, managing to land a lucky blow against the back of his head with my elbow.
He grunts, going down to the floor, and I scramble forward and grab the gun. The second it’s in my hands, I roll onto my back, holding it with both hands this time as I aim it at him.
Maddoc freezes, already up on one knee with an arm extended toward me.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” I bite out.
Slowly, he lowers his arm to his side, shaking his head. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, butterfly, I promise you, it would be a mistake.”
“Don’t call me that. And my only mistake was trusting you,” I say. I’m panting as hard as I was while he fucked me, but now it’s from adrenaline and fury. “This whole goddamn time, you three assholes have been after Chloe for your own gain. I heard you and Dante in your office. You lied to me. You want to use her for something that will benefit you. Rescuing her was never about helping me.”
My voice cracks on the last part, and something shifts in his eyes, his expression hardening.
A part of me is still waiting for him to tell me I’m wrong. That there’s some other explanation. That I can trust them after all.
That I mean something to him.
But of course, he doesn’t.
I don’t dare blink as I steady the gun with both hands and keep it pointed at his face, slowly sitting up, then getting to my feet.
“What do you want with my sister?” I demand.
“That doesn’t concern you,” he murmurs, his face completely shuttered now. “And I never lied.”
“The fuck you didn’t,” I hiss. My hands shake before I steady them again. “I need to know what this is about. Why do you want her? Tell me!”
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Maddoc says flatly. “We did what you asked. We got her away from McKenna. We never discussed what would happen after that.”
His words twist in my chest like a knife, the sharp pain making it hard to breathe. I knew he could be cold and calculating, but hearing him speak so callously of the bargain we made breaks something inside me.
Maddoc slowly rises to his feet, his hands at his side as his gaze locks with mine. I know he’ll try to get the gun again, that he’s probably already looking for an opening or a weakness in my stance. I know he’s used to winning, and that he built his gang up into the force that it is because he’ll do whatever it takes to survive.
But so will I.
I shove aside the painful, chaotic mess of emotions in my chest and raise the gun. I know by now that the man in front of me doesn’t have a heart, but I aim the barrel where one should be.
“You’re right,” I say calmly, my hands completely steady this time. “None of that was part of the deal. And neither was this.”
Then I fire the gun.