11. Skull Tattoo #3
I lean in, sneaking my fingers under her garter as I whisper against lips I’m already addicted to.
“You’re right, that was forever ago. Imagine how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you all. That. Time. I only slipped twice, but god damn were both times worth it.”
I roll my hips into her, like I will when we fuck, and she whimpers.
“You’re so responsive,” I growl. “I’m barely touching you.”
“I… it’s just been a long time,” she insists.
I chuckle. “I agree. Never is a long time.”
She gasps. “How do…”
“Come on. I’m an obsessed motherfucker. You think I’d let anyone else take you?”
I press harder, enjoying the way she squirms. “Last night, I wanted nothing more than my future wife’s virgin blood on my cock.
But a quickie in a dressing room isn’t how I’ll claim you.
I’m going to take my time to give you the attention you deserve, and I want you to know it’s your husband fucking you, not some coward. ”
“What if Ozias and I had sex?” she throws out.
Jealousy burns my chest, but I tamp it down and answer evenly, “I know Ozias. He and I are the same. Loyal to a fault and ruthless about keeping our loved ones safe. His heart’s with someone else, so I never worried about him.”
Understanding flashes across her face, like some distant pieces have fallen into place.
“Besides, even if you had, there’s no way he could do what I can for you. No one else knows what you need .”
I follow the swallow down the vulnerable column of her throat, my mind fantasizing about all the places I’ll lick, suck, choke, bite as I claim her.
“Y-You don’t know what I need.”
“Sure about that?” I stroke up against her, hitting that bundle of nerves I can still practically taste on my tongue. It’s got to be so swollen and sensitive. If I didn’t have another agenda, I’d kneel in front of her and wrap her legs over my shoulders again.
She clutches my shirt as her head falls back, but my hand slips in to stop her from hitting the window. Her body grinds on me, and I have to grit my teeth to continue.
“I know you’re a virgin.” Her eyes widen, and she tries to fix them on me, but I squeeze her thigh, my fingers sneaking under her garter. “And I know I’m the closest thing you’ve ever gotten to an orgasm from someone else.”
“How…?” she asks, lust making her voice husky.
“Because no one else can give you what you need. You want to be claimed, ravaged, you want a dirty, reckless fuck for your first time. And you want to feel like you’re the only girl that matters.”
“You… don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I cradle the back of her head and grind into her harder, making her moan, the sound rising above the thunder. “Only I know how to draw noises like that from you. No one else has any idea how to tame you.”
Her cheeks flush a gorgeous shade of pink down to the pristine white bodice’s neckline, where her tits strain against it with each breath. The darker pink of her pebbled areolas teases the top, and I almost pull the damn thing down for another taste.
Focus.
I swallow, dragging my eyes up to hers. Fire, need, and… is that hope? It all mixes like rushing waters in her clear blue depths.
“I-I don’t want to be tamed.”
I tsk and let my hunger for her color my tone as I wrap my hand around the garter. “Oh, baby. Yes you do. It’s why you test boundaries. You’re dying for someone to push back, and no one has measured up yet. You want to be taken, to give your decisions to someone you trust.”
“That will never be you.” She tries to sneer, but it melts into a shaky breath, sending a hot curl of satisfaction winding up my spine.
“See, the thing is, you already trust me. It’s why you didn’t run earlier.
It’s why you didn’t get behind the driver’s seat and take off.
” Having what I need, I slowly let her down and back away.
Her full lips purse into a pout of disappointment that I’m sure she has no idea is written all over her face.
“And it’s why I was able to get close enough to do this. ”
I hold up her phone, the one I grabbed from her garter, and give it a little shake. All the flush of the lusty haze I stoked in her drains from her face.
“What the hell? Give me back my phone!”
I chuckle as I pick up the plastic bag and plop the phone inside.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Putting this tracker into this here baggie,” I answer, fishing out the BlackJack from my pocket and adding it to the bag. “You know, so we don’t get our alone time interrupted again.” I wink.
She turns green. “A tracker? Like… like from my dad? How’d you find it?”
I shrug. “It was where I would’ve put it.”
I blow air into the bag itself and snap it shut before turning around.
“Wait! Wai-wai-wai-wai- wait .” She tries to run after me, but my strides are longer, and I’m already at the ledge looking down at the river below us. “Please, don’t do what I think you’re gonna?—”
I chuck the bag into the river before she can stop me.
She skids to a halt on the slick dirt. My heart leaps to my throat, and I catch her with an arm around her waist, holding her to me with her back to my front. Her breaths heave, and my pulse still hammers over how that could’ve ended.
My forehead hangs for a moment, pressing against her nape, and my hands squeeze her tighter. She doesn’t seem to notice, and when my head raises again, I find her eyes locked on the bag as it tosses in the waves, bobbing along until it disappears over a distant waterfall.
“What did you do ?”
The hopelessness in her plea almost makes me feel bad. But then I remember why it was necessary.
“I did what I had to. That waterfall at the end could take that bag and the tracker in it all the way to the New River. With that current? Your family will think we’re two states away by morning.”
I easily pick up her limp, defeated body, and carry her back to the car. Shit, I hate the way she’s giving up. But I had to do it.
At the crossover, I set her on her feet. Her gaze stays on the ledge, so I lift her chin to face me.
“Now they can’t find you. You’re mine, Luna Bordeaux, and I fight for what’s mine. The Wildes, the Phantom of the French Quarter, anyone who tries to get in between me and my bride. Including you.”
“You’re a monster,” she seethes.
Thunder rolls, and lightning flashes through the dusk, making me realize how dark it’s gotten.
A fat raindrop smacks me in the forehead. “Call me what you want, but be a good girl and get back in the car.”
I reach for the door, but she stomps in front of it. Rain pelts us, cascading down her forehead and clinging to thick, black lashes that frame the return of that obstinate fire surging through her veins faster than the river beyond the ledge.
“I know that look.” I arch my brow. “You’re about to do something reckless.”
“You don’t know ‘my looks,’” she spits.
“The fuck I don’t. I’ve seen that one plenty of times. Two instances off the top my head? A year ago… and last night.” I step closer. “Right before I felt your pussy clench around my fingers for the first time.”
Her rosy cheeks make me think the shiver racking through her has nothing to do with the rain dripping down her chest and into her bodice. I lick my lips.
She swallows, trying to keep her composure, then says, “You know what? I’m ready to tell you what I wished for back at the tunnel. It has to do with why I didn’t run. Wanna hear?”
I snort. Thunder rolls ahead. I’ve gotta get us out of here before low visibility and mudslides make the roads too treacherous, but this is too fun, and now I’m curious.
“Sure, I’ll bite, birdie.”
Her lips curve into a sinfully wicked smile that I’ll now strive to see every day of the rest of my life.
“Your birdie wished she could fly away from you.”
My brows shoot up as she presses against me, one sharp nail jabbing into my left pec.
“So that’s what I’m gonna do. First, I’m escaping. Then I’m coming back with an audience to watch me stab you with my pointe shoe shank.”
My grin goes lopsided. “That’s quite some plan. Except…” I snap my fingers and frown. “Shucks. Now that you’ve told me, your wish won’t come true. Too bad.”
She smiles sweetly. Something silver glints in her closed fists as she draws them back. “Watch me.”
Thunder and lightning rend the sky as she slams a needle into my chest.