Chapter 5
Bond [ bond ] noun
A psychic connection formed during a period of intense, heightened emotion (i.e. anger, fear, lust) in conjunction with the joint release of talent. Estrus immediately occurs after a bond is forged, followed by a period of significantly heightened sexual desire. This transitory state ends upon conception.
– Excerpt from A Treatise on Talents , Third Edition
“A Talent’s unique physiology is resistant to being cultured in the lab. Offspring can only be gotten through physical means and developed in utero. During this period, the breeding pair’s bond must remain sacrosanct. Tampering results in spontaneous abortion regardless of the fetal stage of development.”
– L. Merkel, Head Geneticist ,
The Source
Flynn put his book aside and eyed the massive pile of wood Kara had brought in. She stacked the last of the logs against the wall, pensive.
“You good?”
Her smile was forced. “Yeah, it’s just so quiet. I’m not used to it.”
She knelt beside him and unwrapped the compress. It’d long since gone cold. His gaze slid over her inspecting his knee. There was a competence and economy to her motions that gave the impression she was very good at what she was doing. He shivered at her touch, and a muscle in his jaw popped.
She peeked up at him. “Cold hands?”
“Yeah.” They were, but that wasn’t the issue.
“You have to stay off it.” She reached forward like she was going to ruffle his hair, then pulled back when he tensed, biting at her thumb.
Goddamn it. That kicked-dog look was back on her face. Flynn closed his eyes, fighting the urge to pull her into his lap and tell her everything would be okay. Wasn’t his fucking problem.
Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies. Shit was gutting him. Why the hell he felt responsible for her…
He wasn’t. Couldn’t be. Couldn’t handle his own train-wreck. Adding her to that equation would only get her hurt. Last thing he wanted was for her to see what a monster he was. For whatever had been in her eyes before to snuff out.
Screw her not thinking he was a white knight; she’d despise him.
His stomach churned, sick over it.
“Mind if I put on some pants?”
Kara stared at her hands, fingers laced together. “As long as I can get to your knee.”
“Grab me those.” She got his sweats, and he moved the recliner back upright, feeling like an absolute dick. He jerked his head at the cupboard. “Couple cans of soup in there, if you’re hungry.”
She hopped to, like he’d given an order. Flynn’s brow furrowed, pulling on the sweats. What was that about? It was like a part of her had just shut down?—
He bit back a groan. That look she had before. The one where he’d sworn she thought she was fucking defective or some shit, and he’d been flat out rejecting her advances. Christ, he wanted to kick his own ass. Having an ugly prick like him say no had to be great for her ego. Motherf?—
“How do I…?” She was turning a can over in her hands, frowning.
“Opener’s where you found the forks,” he muttered, watching her push around his meager supply of cutlery. God, he was an asshole, and there wasn’t anything he could say without making it worse.
“This thing?” She held it up for his inspection.
“Yeah, just clip it on and turn the wheel.”
She put her back to him, and it sounded like she was botching the job. Like she needed another blow to her confidence. Flynn sighed, hoisting himself up. So much for staying off his knee.
“You shouldn’t be?—”
“I gotta piss.”
Kara turned away, flushing. He limped the six steps to the table and steadied himself with a hand to one side of her, grinning before he could help himself. She was so frickin’ adorable fumbling with the damned thing. How could you be clueless about operating a can opener?
“Here, just—no, not like—come here.” He moved behind her, adjusting her grip, and firmly clipping it onto the side of the can. Damn, she smelled good. As in there-goes-taking-a-piss-right-away good.
“Go on, turn it.” Her fingers were long and slender beneath his. Smooth.
“Like this?” she asked, peeking over her shoulder at him, all innocent and sexy as hell. It twined around him in that heady musk. Flynn’s eyes dropped to her lips?—
Fuck, he couldn’t do this.
“Yeah.” He reached past her to grab a stout stick leaning between the cabinet and the wall. Woman was killing him. “Next one’s all you.” He lurched into the bathroom, cursing himself.
Kara’s bra hung limply from the curtain rod, mocking him. He ran the water, splashing the glacial iciness over his head, hard-on throbbing for the umpteenth time today. Pretty soon frostbite wasn’t gonna be a deterrent to jacking off .
And he was supposed to take her north.
Fucking Cal.
Nothing had gone right since he’d answered his call. And now he was stuck with her and a mandate hanging over his head. Keep his dick in his pants. The hell he would, she wanted him, and if she kept offering it up, who was he to say no?
Flynn blew out noisily, scrubbing at his face. No. That wasn’t him. Not anymore, and she deserved better. Emotions running riot, he doused his head in the sink, soaking his shirt in the process.
Whatever. It stank, just like the rest of him. He peeled it off and chucked it onto the pile in the corner, sponging himself down. A Binder. Why the hell did she have to be a Binder? Bred for talent and beauty. They’d done a bang up job with her. Her in that lacy bra flitted across his mind’s eye. Shit, those halos. He’d never seen—Christ, he needed a cold shower. This goddamn knee. He wouldn’t be able to keep his balance in there…though sitting in six inches of freezing water held a certain appeal. He grimaced, grabbed his scissors, and snipped a few errant hairs off his upper lip?—
What am I doing?
He threw the scissors back behind the mirror, disgusted with himself. He’d keep his hands off her. Ducking his head, he sighed, staring down at his tented sweats, then at the dirty laundry pile, and finally, the walking stick.
Fuck my life. How the hell was this gonna work? He snorted, trying to remember the last time he’d had to hide an erection.
Oh yeah, about an hour ago.
His eyes landed on her coat. It wasn’t dripping anymore, but it was in sad shape. Heat from the stove wasn’t gonna revive it, but the plausibility served his purpose. He snagged it, looping it over his arm and picking up the walking stick again.
Flynn limped back into the main room. She’d just finished feeding the stove. Her eyes took in his mangled torso before sliding up to meet his. Her pupils dilated and that scent… His cock kicked in response, his knuckles going white.
Goddamn, he wanted her.
But why the hell would she want him? How could she? Sure as hell wasn’t his looks. Between all the scars and the nasty brand dripping across his pec, he was a mess, and Lord knew his personality wasn’t any better. Self-conscious, he looked away. Jesus, when was the last time he’d felt that?
She needed to go.
He pushed past her to the dresser, tossing the jacket aside when his back was to her. His stupid dick got snapped up behind his waistband, and the first thing he grabbed got ripped down over his head, covering it all up. He knew exactly what he was now, and it was nowhere as pretty or slick as it used to be.
Fuck the pull. He’d been by himself for too long. That’s all it was. He was a novelty, and she was lonely. He could sweat over her as much as he wanted, but a woman like Kara didn’t want to get involved with someone like him. He was doing her a favor. She’d regret it. Big time, and having her look at him the way the others did after… Shit, the thought of her finding out what a freak he was made his chest hurt. He rubbed at it as he sat. Another week, and he could forget she existed.
He didn’t want to. Add that to his ever-growing list of problems. Christ, he should make them pay rent.
His anger bled out of him, leaving him hollow, but fuck, he was used to that now, wasn’t he?
She poured some soup into a mug, then put the pot in front of him with a spoon.
“Some crackers in there, a thing of hot sauce,” he muttered, motioning at the cabinet behind her. “What? Everything tastes better with hot sauce.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Wind’s really starting to pick up.”
Great. Small talk. God, he fucking hated—“Yeah. Weather’s turning, and the junker’s set. Plan on leaving early tomorrow.”
She nodded like she was disappointed. Yep, he was delusional.
“How’s the knee? Need another compress?”
Flynn shook his head. He needed her not to touch him. No matter how cold it got, he was staying in that damn recliner tonight. Christ, the barn was probably safer. He pushed the soup away, his stomach a mess. She didn’t seem very hungry either .
“If you want, that leather conditioner’s probably ready to use.” She retrieved the bottle and the sheaths. “Rags are behind the recliner.”
Kara brought some over, exchanging the soup for tea, and adding a big dollop of honey to her mug. She grimaced after the fact. “Sorry, I know it’s difficult to get?—”
“It’s only hard to get down here. Source’s tech messes with insects. Honeybees won’t stay within a couple hundred miles of it. Up north’s different.” He squirted some of the goop onto a rag and started working it into the leather. She took another and mimicked him.
He watched her from beneath his brows. Woman wasn’t afraid of work, that was for sure. She’d done more than her fair share, with zero complaint. She was smart, too. Not afraid to give him shit. He liked that. Her smile. Those dimples. She wasn’t like, like… Jesus, she was a real fucking person, not some whore junkie or plastic fuck-doll with an agenda?—
“Still…it’s got to be expensive.” Her teeth pinned her bottom lip, and he had trouble forming words. Did she do that when she—God, he wanted to— back it up, asshole . She was a Binder, and he didn’t want to fucking hurt her, goddamn it.
His head said that, but the rest of him… Forget about the rest of him.
“Sorry—What’s expensive?”
“Honey.”
“Oh. Ah, yeah. I guess. Don’t worry about it.” He never had. Shit. Slip much? Time to change the subject. “I bet you don’t even know what a mosquito is.” Kara looked at him blankly, and he laughed. “You’re not missing out on anything.”
“Doesn’t feel that way,” she mumbled with a little huff.
Flynn’s eyes jumped to hers. The hurt there caught him, and he couldn’t look away. Her halos were startling. Brilliant gold with burnished flecks, banded by a thin brown ring the same color as her irises. She blinked, and long dark lashes brushed her cheeks.
He froze, the churning in his stomach replaced by a nervous anticipation he hadn’t felt since he was sixteen at the fucking Academy. Panic washed over him.
He liked her and wanted her to like him back .
Nope. Not happening.
Except it was.
He pushed from the table, running a hand up the back of his neck. “Kara, look, I?—”
“Whatever. After tomorrow you’ll never have to see me again.” She dropped her hands to her lap, testing a blade’s edge with her thumb and staring at the metal like it was the missing link. “I’m sorry you got roped into this. I-I should’ve just stayed with Jake.”
The room seared red, and Flynn’s knuckles popped. What the ever-loving fuck? No way she’d rather be with that piece of shit. He grabbed the last sheath to keep from tearing out of the coop to murder the guy. If he heard that motherfucker’s name one more time—Goddamn it, Kara was his?—
Fuuuuuck.
He fell back against his chair. Shit. He was in deep and had no idea how he’d gotten there.
Wasn’t exactly a lie.
Wasn’t the truth, either.
And meanwhile, she slumped in the chair across from him, thinking he didn’t give two shits about her. Jesus, he was an asshole, but what the hell could he?—
“Fuck that. You belong with me.” Christ, had that just come out of his mouth?
Her head snapped up. Yep. It had.
“What?” The question escaped before Kara could stop it…but really?
Flynn ’s face flushed. “I just meant Jake’s an asshole.”
Liar. She laughed. “There’s a lot of that going around.”
And he was officially red, squirming in his seat like he’d just gotten a demerit. Man, he was such an odd combination of arrogance and insecurity, all wrapped up in a prickly bow. Kara ducked her head, hiding a smile. A funny warmth fluttered inside her. He might not have meant to say that, but did he mean it ?
“Look, when we head out…”
Her stomach cramped at his tone. Crap. “Are you taking me back to him?”
“Taking you…” Flynn’s brow furrowed, then shot up. “To Jake? No. Fuck no. When I see that asshole again—Did he touch you?” His question came out in a lethal growl, the reverberations dispersing menace throughout the room like a roiling cloud of undersea ink. Her breath caught. That dangerous thing was in his eyes again, and she had zero doubt Jake was a dead man.
Kara squeezed her thighs together, mouth dry. Ugh, it was the only part of her that was. She shook her head, focusing on her knives. “No. I can take care of myself.”
Flynn grunted, pulling at his nose and cursing softly. “Hope you shanked the motherfucker.” She laughed, and his eyebrows bunched again, that menace dissipating. “What? I do. Fuck him. No, I got the call this morning—you’re riding north with me,” he said, overly casual about it.
Her heart skipped a beat. He was taking her across the border? A huge grin lit up her face. His lips rose to a half smile, then he coughed, trying to play it off as he stood. He limped over to the end of the bed and sat, pulling things out of the bureau.
“You’ll need warmer stuff, that coat’s done for. Grab whatever you want.”
Kara pushed a stack of books out of the way to kneel beside him. His injured leg was kicked out straight, and he rubbed at it, grimacing. She reached for her bag. “Let me get you a couple more anti-inflammatories first.”
“I’m fine.”
She rolled her eyes. “Because you like suffering?”
“Maybe.”
Idiot. She pulled out the bottle and shook two pills into her hand. “Take them.”
Flynn’s eyes flicked to the tablets, then back to hers.
“No.”
No? Was he—“You’re taking them.”
“No. ”
Kara’s temper spiked. “This isn’t a discussion.”
“You’re right. Put ’em back.”
Wasn’t happening. Letting someone suffer went contrary to who she was and watching him do it made her nuts. Binders healed, and if she couldn’t pull talent, he was damned well going to take the freaking things. She gritted her teeth. “Take the pills.”
His gaze burnt. “You gonna make me?”
Maybe he really was ten. She laughed, stepping back with her hands on her hips. Was that seriously a challenge? Clinical Kara bristled. Jerk had no idea who he was dealing with.
He leaned back on his elbows like that was the end of it. “Right. So, like I?—”
She pounced on him, driving him back against the mattress, and jamming the pills into the ‘O’ of surprise his mouth made, then slapped her hand over it, glowering at him. “I said you’re taking them. Now, be a good little boy and?—”
Kara gasped, back thumping onto the mattress, hands pinned above her head, his weight holding her down. Flynn’s eyes locked on hers, electric blue motes churning from the depths of his irises. That dangerous thing was back, but instead of menace, what he exuded made her breath catch, desire coiling in her belly.
His chest rumbled, and he spat the pills to the side.
That goddamn perfume was thick enough to taste and good was the last thing he wanted to be. Lust coiled in his belly, thick and dark, all his filthy urges clamoring to play.
Flynn clenched his jaw, Kara’s body taut beneath his. Her ponytail had slipped when he’d flipped her onto her back, dark hair spreading in a tangle beneath them, those golden halos encircling pupils blown with desire. He stared into the abyss, tempted beyond reason to fall.
That was a lie. He wanted to jump.
Fuck.
“I said no,” he rasped, not convincing himself.
Her gaze dropped to his lips and the tip of her tongue flicked out .
Damn, she was sexy. So goddamned sexy, and that scent…cognac and amber and wanton fucking need. Flynn’s cognition skipped like gouged vinyl on a turntable, head dropping to inhale along the line of her throat… Christ, that lit him up. His lips grazed her lobe, the tang of sweat with the sweetness of her skin wrenching a low moan from his gut. Their breathing sped, her calf sliding up his thigh. He wanted to lick her into a quivering mess, to bury himself between her thighs, sink his teeth?—
She shivered, arching up, peaks of her breasts teasing his chest. Her cheek brushed his, face turning—Holy shit, she was gonna?—
Kiss him.
Her lips were soft, tentative, and slow. His were stone. How long had it been since a woman had kissed him? Had wanted to? Not since Julia?—
No. He wanted this. Could have this. A growl rumbled through his chest, dredging up an unfamiliar warmth, loosening his muscles. Damn, he’d forgotten… Flynn pulled her closer, fingers tracing her spine, tightening in her hair. Kara’s tongue teased the seam of his lips, and he chased it with his own. Honey, lust, and heaven. He groaned into her mouth, and she swallowed the sound, fisting his shirt, the fabric popping under the strain. His pulse jumped, a growl rumbling in his chest. Did she get what she was doing to him?
She couldn’t.
The warmth suffusing him shattered, blistering him with shame. His groan became pained, and he pulled away before it wasn’t an option.
“Stop.” His voice cracked. “I-I’m gonna hurt you.”
She traced the scar roping down his cheek, those pouty lips quirking as she shifted against his erection. Christ, that’s not—well, it was, but?—
“I trust you.”
“Don’t.”
Flynn rested his forehead against hers, his smoldering eyes pleading with her. His throat bobbed. “Damn it, I’m not a good man, Kara. Why the hell do you want a piece of shit like me? You’re too—” He pushed back, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ll get you north.”
What? Kara’s jaw hung open. That’s why he’d been keeping his distance? She bit back a laugh, and he scowled but didn’t pull away. “Maybe you weren’t, but that’s all I see right now.”
His hands slapped down onto the mattress beside her ears. “Jesus Christ, why the fuck can’t you be afraid of me like everyone else?” He loomed, sounding desperate, aggrieved.
Insulted.
Kara didn’t bother restraining her laugh. Idiot. “I told you, I can take care of myself.”
His fist clamped into her hair, forcing her head to the side. Those blue motes were back, and a trickle of fear slid through her, tightening the tips of her breasts to painful points. He leaned in, his beard tickling the hollow beneath her ear.
“I’m not Jake.”
No, he wasn’t… Flynn's thumb swept across her nipple, and she drew in a stuttered breath, heat surging through her. His bristled cheek skated against hers, lips teasing as he pinched, eliciting a cry. “Fucking perfect,” he murmured, his gravelly voice pained. “The shit I want to do to you… You need to run away, sweetheart.”
Her thighs squeezed around his bulk. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Flynn’s grip at her nape tightened. His face screwed up, and he swore, then gently kissed her temple and let her go. He was shaking. “Yeah, you are. Fuck it. We leave in five. Get ready.”
Like hell they were.
She ripped her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. “No.”
He froze, throat bobbing. “Kara, I told you?—”
“I don’t care!” Her mouth crashed against his, demanding, toppling him onto his back. His resistance bled out beneath her, lips slowly responding to hers, then taking control. A hand surged to tangle in her hair again, the other tugging the pebbled peak of her breast. She gasped, her hips grinding against him.
He groaned, her legs straddling his lap as he sat up, his gaze challenging hers, reaching back to rip the shirt over his head. Glory, Why was that so freaking sex?—
Scars.
Flynn’s jaw ticked, and he looked away. Her fingers trailed over his chest, following the gnarled ridges mapping his torso to the crude T-shaped brand on his pec, so stark against the dark smattering of hair. Smaller white slices peppered his biceps. Her fingers ghosted over them, too evenly spaced to be anything but purposeful mutilation. He definitely hadn’t gotten them at the Source. What the heck had happened to him? Kara’s brow furrowed, circling the divot of a bullet hole directly over his heart. How was he still breathing? She dipped her head to brush her lips across it?—
A tortured moan rumbled through his chest, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head. “Fuck, Kara. I want—I don’t want to hurt you.”
He trembled at the gentle peppering of kisses she left over his mangled flesh, his vulnerability wrenching her heart. “I won’t let you.”
“You won’t have a choice…” His voice rasped, gaze searing into hers. It was wild, broken. No one had ever looked at her like that. She wanted to fix him, seep into all those cracks and make him whole. Her hand cupped his cheek. His nostrils flared, and whatever he saw on her face slumped his shoulders. “There’s gotta be rules. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you.”
“No. I need to hear e xactly what you want.” What? Flynn’s jaw tensed at her bewilderment. “I don’t trust myself, okay? Be explicit. I won’t do anything you don’t tell me to.”
Explicit…? Her cheeks burned. Ugh, why did he make everything so difficult? She shook her head, wriggling out of her jeans and kicking them away. Flynn gripped the sheets, knuckles white, watching her crawl above him like he wanted to devour her.
Her eyebrow quirked. “You’re serious.”
He grunted the affirmative, chewing his lip. “Yeah. You need to be in control.”
Kara rolled her eyes, lowering her hips to his, grazing across the evidence of arousal straining his sweatpants. Her being in control was going to last about six seconds. “Because you take direction so well.” She laughed as his jaw clenched.
“Try me.”
She blew a strand of hair from her face. “Fine, kiss me.”
A smile ghosted across his countenance, and his thumb brushed the tip of her nose. “Here?”
Ugh! “Lower.”
“Here?” He kissed her elbow, that challenge back in his gaze. “I said to be explicit.”
“Glory, you’re a jerk! Try my lips—” Kara squealed as grabbed her, dragging her to the edge of the bed and kneeling between her thighs with a grimace. She jolted up. “You—your knee, you idiot! You can’t?—”
The edges of his mouth pinched white with pain. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, you’re?—”
“Shhh…” He nuzzled at her neck, his skin bathed in a cold sweat. She pushed back to look at him.
“But—”
“Relax. I owe you a kiss,” he murmured, his voice low and thick, laying her back and raising her hands over her head. “Do I get to use my tongue? What about here?” His lips moved to suckle her breasts and fire burst through her core.
So much for her being in control. “I—yes…” He worked down her body, his fingers skating between her open thighs, teasingly close…
His beard rasped across her stomach, tongue lapping, teeth nibbling the jut of her hip. Kara panted, mewling at him pinning the undulation of her body, feeling his smile against her skin. He glanced up at her with those hazel-green eyes, pupils dark and dilated, then brushed his nose along the gusset of her panties with a rumbling inhalation. “A kiss on your lips, with tongue.”
Oh, Glory, yes, but…
“I didn’t mean…” She squirmed, cheeks burning, heart racing, sweat breaking across her brow. His thumb teased the outline of her sex, and her hips bucked against his restraining arm at her waist. A whimper of need clawed out her throat. “Please…”
Flynn’s dark chuckle shot a shiver through her. “Mmm… you’re so pr etty when you beg.” He kissed the apex of her thighs, breath hot across the thin panel of fabric separating them. “I told you to be explicit. Please what?”
She groaned, her physiological response to him torturous, overriding her embarrassment. “S-sex. I want to have sex. Intercourse. With you. Now, please.”
He chuckled again. “That’s better, sweetheart, but it’s not happening.”
“What? But you—” Kara panted, her temper warring with her libido. He nipped at the lace between her thighs before his calloused hands slid her panties to her ankles.
“If I fucked you right now,” he murmured, trailing kisses up her calf, “I’d rip this pretty little pussy in two and enjoy every goddamned minute of you screaming around my cock. Lemme take care of you.” He hooked her thigh over his shoulder, drawing a deep breath at her core, inhaling her arousal. “Goddamn, you smell fucking delicious. Tell me I can have a taste.”
How could something be so sexy and so obscene at the same time? She panted, lost in the filthy command of his wicked gaze. There wasn’t enough air in the room, its lack dropping her voice an octave. “P-please…”
“Mmm… so fucking pretty.” His thumbs spread her folds. “And so fucking wet. I need to hear it. Was that a yes?”
Ugh! He was such a jerk! “Yes!”
Her toes curled up at his deviant chuckle. “Good girl,” he murmured, nosing into her, his lips igniting an inferno, sweat dampening her scalp. Abruptly the concept of a supreme being held merit. Kara’s lashes fluttered, her breath too fast. He was going to make her?—
“Fuck, you’re like candy.” His groan was counterpoint to her own, rising above the lascivious sounds of him feasting.
Holy fuck .
Flynn tensed his bum knee, the stab of pain ripping up through his leg keeping him in check. The temptation to ruin Kara’s luscious little body with his cock intensified every time she squirmed, absolutely fucking glorious. Her bronzed skin was dewy and flushed, back arched, offering up those perfect tits, peaks glossy from his worship, and below that taut stomach, she writhed against his face, so fucking tight and all in.
The woman was beyond perfect, and when she’d opened those pouty lips of hers to beg for his fingers…
Shit was getting out of hand.
Flynn bit back a groan, reveling in her desire, grateful for his injury. His control was hanging by a thread as it was. He lapped and nipped—goddamn, she was fucking delicious—sliding his hands up her smooth legs, spreading them wider. Licking the length of her slit to her pucker, teasing?—
That was a lie, he was testing.
Kara cried out, hands jerking into his hair with a tense plea. Unconquered territory there. Lust coursed through him, welling up in a growl. He swirled his tongue around her rosebud again?—
No. He wasn’t gonna hurt her.
He laved back above her folds, digits scissoring with the same cadence. Fuck, he wanted to—her core tightened around his touch, close. Christ, so was he, but there was no fucking way he was blowing so soon. He ground his knee into the floor, hissing. His tempo slowed, dragging her back from the edge. She cried out in frustration. Damn, that got him hard.
He trailed soft kisses across her thigh, pinning her hips, fingers stilled, his thumb leisurely circling her nub, just enough to torment her on the precipice of euphoria. She gasped, trying to rock against his hand. “Ask for it.”
She tensed at the request, and he grinned against her skin. Her reluctance just made him want to hear her say filthy shit more, see that flush of pink creep up her chest and bloom over her cheeks. “Please…y-you know.”
“I wanna hear it.” Her brow screwed up, and he chuckled at her blush. God, she was adorable. How was someone from the Source shy about talking dirty? Maybe he needed to set a precedent. His lips brushed against her bare mound. “Beg me to let you come, Kara. Tell me to lap up all this cream and fuck your tight little pussy harder?—”
“Oh!”
She shattered, her expression fucking exquisite. He almost blew just watching. Goddamn. She might be shy about saying dirty shit, but she sure as hell got off on it.
Stars exploded across Kara’s vision, her body seizing with waves of pleasure.
“That’s it, beautiful.” He drew her orgasm out, dusting her thighs with soft kisses, his mouth softening against her. “Again.”
Flynn returned to her cleft, stoking the flames, adding a finger and scissoring deep, then leaving her empty. Kara groaned, her insides fluttered and ached, worse now that she’d given into her biology. She reached for him. “Please, Flynn, I need?—”
“Hands above your head, sweetheart.” His breath feathered over her slickness, taunting as she obeyed, scrabbling at the sheets. Whimpering, she tried to move her hips against those sinful fingers, feeling his smile as he deprived her again, his tongue driving her mad. He ignored her cries of protest, caressing her slick folds, circling above before returning to stoke her lust higher. Edging her until pleas tumbled from her lips, kissing away the frustrated tears on her cheeks, murmuring sweet filth.
“You’re even prettier when you cry…”
The need—she was going to burst into flames—her pulse thudded in her ears, pounding out her stilted breathing?—
“Please!” Her cheeks flared at the urgency in her voice.
“Please what?” His tongue traced the length of her slit. Soft kisses laved away the prickle of his beard.
Kara swallowed the lump in her throat, her lust outweighing her embarrassment at being so wanton. “I-I want you inside me. ”
He rose, grasping her nape and pulling her to him, plundering her mouth. The taste of desire thick on his tongue, he fed it to her, relentless until she gasped for breath. “Like that?”
Dazed, Kara shook her head, and he chuckled, thumb circling her swollen bud. She arched against his hand, her breath stuttering. Flynn kissed down her throat, licking collar bone to breast, then came back to kiss her softly. “Then I guess you’re gonna have to be more specific.”
Her temper flared. Ugh! She wanted to punch that stupid sexy grin right off his face. “I thought you said I was in control.”
Flynn’s brow furrowed. “You are?—”
“Then lose the sweats and, and—lie down.”
He clambered up, shucking them off but keeping the grin. Glory, he was muscles on top of muscles. Kara’s eyes followed the V of his Adonis belt to its apex, answering any question about him being proportional. Holy crap. No wonder he’d made that quip about her knowing if he’d messed with her.
Her teeth caught her lip as he fisted himself, stroking his engorged length. He raked a hand through his hair, his grin faltering, replaced with that brokenness from before. “You sure?”
Kara rolled her eyes and patted the mattress.
He cleared his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing, and husked out, “As my lady wishes,” settling beside her, body tense. What was that about?
Whatever. Kara snorted and straddled him, done with his rules.
She wasn’t a fucking lady.
She tackled him, tonguing his mouth like she craved her own taste. He groaned, purposefully twisting his knee. Christ, he’d gotten to the point where the pain was just getting him hotter. He needed to take a fucking crowbar to it. Goddamn, if she knew all the pervy shit he… Why the hell did she even want him? Everything about him was too big and scary as fuck, including his?—
Her fingers wrapped around him, and Flynn hissed through his teeth. “Easy…it’s been a long time. ”
“Then we should get this out of the way before the main event.” She held his gaze and slid down to lick the beading moisture from his blunt tip.
“Fuuuuck…” He clenched her hair before he could stop himself, his hips punching up as she took him between her lips, cheeks hollowing…
His hands shot up, gripping the bed’s slats so hard the metal squealed. She kept her eyes locked on his, sucking him deeper, past the wet heat of her mouth and into her throat.
With zero gag reflex.
Holy—
Flynn’s breath billowed like a bull’s, abs rippling with the strain of keeping still. He wanted to grab her head and test that shit out. Could she—her mouth pulled at him, at every sick desire buried down deep in his black soul. It crested, a feral growl in his chest?—
Mother. Fucker.
This wasn’t getting head, it was fucking transcendental. She started bobbing, and his mind blanked, lost in the sensation of her lips, tongue, and teeth. Her hand slid from his base to knead the root of his cock and sack. Fucking woman was a pro. Christ, she was a fucking goddess. That tell-tale tingle already creeping up the base of his spine.
Too soon.
Don’t fucking come, don’t fucking come, don’t fucking come?—
“Shit—I’m gonna?—”
Light burst through his skull, atomizing his consciousness.
Her nose hit his abs, throat rippling around him as she swallowed.
He saw God. Played a round of golf and rubbed elbows with the Trinity.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Kara came back into focus before the rest of the room, slowly stroking him with a sly smile on her glossy lips. She licked across them.
Satisfied as a goddamned cat that had gotten the cream.
And he was still so hard he ached.
She skated up his chest to nibble at his throat. His eyes closed as her skin slid against his, her scent driving him wild. God, he wanted to wrap her hair around his fist and sink his teeth into?—
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I want?” She was fucking purring.
“Uh, yeah…” He cleared his throat. Christ, she had him all messed up, and by that little smirk, knew it. Either that or she was laughing at him for blowing like a fucking virgin, but Jesus, it’d been almost a goddamned year, and she was?—
“Intercourse, Flynn. Now.”
—defiant as fuck.
His knuckles popped, gripping the sheets, sweat prickling his brow. Deep breath, asshole. She was gonna kill him. This was gonna kill him. Fuck, he had to say it.
“No.”
“Yes” She straddled his hips, the slickness of her core caressing his shaft. He groaned. Shit. I shall not want…shall not…deliver me from… His eyes rolled back into his head, the feel of her, that fucking scent…
Temptation.
“You don’t want that,” he rasped.
She laughed. “Liar. I want it all.”
His temper spiked, and he grabbed her by the nape, cock pulsing like he hadn’t just come harder than he could ever remember. “You can’t handle all of me.” Kara snorted like she thought he was an idiot, and a rumble started in his chest. Woman was challenging him. She licked her lips, eyes glimmering with?—
Anticipation.
Son of a bitch. She was baiting him. Fucking minx. The urge to flip her over and spank that ass—Flynn swallowed a laugh, scrubbing his face. Fuck it. He was too far gone, his promise of celibacy already dangling on shit semantics. She wanted all of him, he’d give her a taste, but she was gonna have to earn it.
Kara squealed as Flynn pitched her onto her back. His head dipped, tongue swirling around the peak of her breast and drawing it into his mouth. She arched, whimpering.
“Oh, yes…” He growled, nipping at her. A line of lust shot to her core. She struggled weakly against him. “Please… I want?—”
“It all.” His chest rumbled like a beast’s, that dangerous tone tinging his voice, He muscled between her thighs, drawing a leg over his hip, teasing her entrance. “Too bad I haven’t decided if I’m gonna give it to you.”
Kara panted, her temper flaring again at his chuckle. “What? But you’re?—”
“Still pissed about those pills?” His eyes glittered, irises churning with electric blue. “No means no, sweetheart. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll give you half.” He groaned, leaning forward, his lips capturing hers, swallowing her gasp at the stretch and burn of him aligning himself, poised just on the brink. “Last chance,” he whispered raggedly. “Tell me no. To stop. I wanna ruin you, Kara. I wanna hear you scream while I claim every part of you and lap up your tears while I do it. That what you want?”
Her breath caught, trapped by his predatory gaze. “I?—”
Flynn trailed his fingertips down her cheek. He looked almost sad. “Say yes, sweetheart.” He inhaled again, eyes closing, a shudder running through him. “Because you’re mine.”
His.
Fuck. Had he said that? Her halos shimmered, and he let out another groan, talent confirming what he already knew. What he’d let slip. No. It was just this once. Ok, just tonight. He dipped his head, if that teasing pull on his talent was any indication, his halos were making an appearance as well. Fuck that. He wasn’t bonding her. This was just sex.
But Christ, it felt like more.
She mewled, urging his hips forward. Like he needed fucking encouragement. Sweat beaded his brow, resisting the need to drive into that slick, tight ring of muscle resisting the tip of his cock—“Not until you say it.”
Her anger flared brighter than her halos, and it was fucking decadent. She fisted his hair, dragging his lips back to hers and thrust up, impaling herself.
Holy Jesus Fuck.
He drank in her pained gasp, the bite of her nails digging into his scalp, his shoulders. Eyes rolling back into his head at the vice of velvet clamping around his girth, her perfume—fuck, her—slamming into him as hard he drove into her.
He ground his knee into the mattress, fighting the urge to bite her calf as he hooked it over his shoulder. White hot pain drowned out the craving to feast on anything but her desire. He moved above her, trailing his nose along her jugular, aching to bite down. She panted, fingers curling through his hair, pained ecstasy etching her brow, arching?—
“More…please…don’t stop…”
Christ, her begging made his cock throb. So did her fucking defiance. Woman was goddamned dangerous, the rhythm of her hips just shy of punishing. He palmed her breast, fingers dimpling ripe flesh, nipple diamond-hard, wanting to slap it?—
Flynn ground down on his knee again, hissing at the stab of pain. He buried his face in her nape, wishing he could look at her… Fucking halos. She couldn’t find out he was a Talent, or that her pain got him way hotter than it should. His hips jerked, thrusting deeper, groaning at her cry. Shouldn’t get you hot at all, you sick fuck.
She gasped, her body seized around his, ripples of heaven encasing him, pulsating slick desire, demanding his surrender. He bellowed, sack drawing up tight, erupting hot ropes of worshiping euphoria at her altar, darkness prickling his vision.
Fuuuck…
Kara stroking the sweat drenched hair at his nape brought him back to earth, breath heavy, little sounds of contentment murmuring against his chest.
Flynn sucked in a sharp breath, shrugging from her arms. One and done. He needed to let her go. Kara’s heels hooked the back of his thighs, trapping him.
Her hand rose to his cheek. “Didn’t you tell me it was too late for that?” The perfumed words laced around him, netting him tight.
Flynn groaned, his head dipping of its own volition, lips brushing hers. She claimed them, arms encircling his neck. His dick twitched, already geared up for round three. Goddamn. He couldn’t get enough. He sank back into her slowly, gazes locked, that little triangle crinkling between her brows as he hilted himself deep between her thighs. “Yeah, and now you’ve got all of me.”
“Not yet, but I will.” Her kiss began gentle, then her teeth tugged at his lower lip, looking all winsome with those goddamned halos—“You’re mine too, Flynn.”
Fuck. His throat bobbed. Woman had no idea how right she was.
Which meant they were both screwed.
Kara was fucking someone.
Riegel sat in the drawing room of his suite, staring into the fire. Yesterday had been another day of frustrations, and now this. He crushed the plaz screen he was holding, shorting out the report he’d failed to read a hundred times.
She was fucking them and enjoying it immensely. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent the ruined tablet into the alabaster hearth’s flames, feeling an uncomfortable kinship with it.
In another twelve hours he lost access to the vector. Despite spending the day catering to Sabet, she’d been unable to procure him any more time. Riegel grimaced at the memory of it. He had nothing to prove Kara wasn’t in that damn tower, add to it Titus’s ultimatum, and now this…it was intolerable.
She was going to slip through his fingers, and with her, the wellspring of his impending godhood. Never mind the paltry amount of talent he’d been syphoning through their existing bond, with what he sensed waiting just outside of his reach, he would lead a revolution .
All of it the dross of dreams if he couldn’t get his hands on Kara to complete their bond.
Smoothing his hair back, he felt Ielle’s eyes on him. Having a witness to his frustrations did nothing to improve his mood. She lounged on the calfskin chaise across the room, silent. Though he could scent her anticipation of his wrath, he wasn’t in the mood. Or rather, he wasn’t in the mood to give her what she wanted. He preferred her to be as frustrated as he.
Riegel pushed up from the chartreuse club chair and held his hand out to her. She rose, crossing the parquet floor like a queen.
“Are you contracted tonight?” he asked with disinterest, running a hand down her cheek.
Ielle turned her head, snapping at his fingers. “In another hour.”
He ignored the shiver of desire it sent through him. “Go now.” He kissed her roughly, then pushed her away.
Irritation flashed across her face before she quashed it with a smile. “Fine. Call me when you want to play. I might even answer.”
Riegel smirked, unconcerned as she sauntered from the room. She’d be waiting.
His link to Kara had subsided to a sickening sense of contentment. He’d always taken perverse pleasure in the fact that she’d known each and every time he’d debauched himself. That was often more exciting than the act itself. Forcing her to experience his lust was exquisite…tasting hers he could not abide.
Perhaps a bit of a nosh would settle him.
Once in the formal dining room, he couldn’t help but appreciate how the plaz lights sparkled on the crystal stemware. His valet had set out a late repast upon the long olive wood table. Running his eyes over the selection of delicacies, Riegel picked up a toasted round and slice of gravlax from one of the delicate china platters. Arranging the fish exactingly, he drizzled it with a mustard dill sauce, pondering how to proceed. His fingers drummed along the back of an ornately carved chair. As distasteful as it was, he needed to let the situation play out. Especially now, he couldn’t afford to be hasty. There was still time for her to spring his trap… If the slat stopped spreading her legs.
As if the thought had been prophetic, the link awoke again. Enraged, he reflexively pulled talent. The chair shattered into a thousand pieces, followed by everything around him. A heartbeat later he stood ringed in wreckage, panting. The corpse of his valet stained the far corner. He hadn’t even known the man was in the room. Damn that slat! This part of his suite had just been updated, and it’d taken weeks to choose the silk damask for the walls?—
Riegel grit his teeth, eyeing the spatter of sauce across his sleeve. Everything was against him of late. He took a deep breath, calming himself.
Twelve more hours, and then it would be time to become rash.