Ruthless Creatures

40

Even the s*x wasn’t spontaneous.

There was a reserve inside of him, one I couldn’t reach. An untouchable place I bumped up against at unexpected moments, like the Christmas morning I asked him what his favorite memory was from his childhood and his face went blank.

He never did answer the question. He simply changed the subject.

I never brought it up again.

Now, standing here in Kage’s arms with all the need and devotion shining so plainly in his eyes, I realize David and I might not have been as good a match as I thought we were.

I once pledged my life to a man who gave me a budget for an engagement ring. A very small budget. Then disapproved of each one I chose, until finally he suggested it would really make more sense to put the money toward the ailing carburetor that needed replacing in my car.

I pledged my life to a man who folded his dirty laundry before putting it in the hamper.

To a man who made love with his socks on because his feet were always cold.

To a man who always looked away just before I kissed him.

“Kage?”

“Yes?”

“Do you fold your dirty clothes before you put them in the hamper?”

He pulls his brows together. “Of course not. Who the f**k would do that?”

“Are your feet always cold?”

“No. I run a few degrees hot. What are you talking about?”

I already know he doesn’t look away before he kisses me. He looks deep into my eyes, like he doesn’t ever want to look away.

Like he doesn’t want to miss a thing.

“I’m talking about making a stupid decision. One last question.”

“What is it?”

“After you left me in that room at the restaurant, I heard more gunshots. Was that you?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes. There were two men with guns. They had their sights trained on Stavros and Sloane. I killed them.”

Oh, bridge. High, unstable rope bridge swinging across a roaring river far, far below. I sure hope you’ll hold my weight as I step out onto you.

I whisper, “Okay. Thank you for being honest. You should take me into the bedroom now.”

Without another word, Kage picks me up in his arms.

17

Nat

I

already knew Kage was intense, but I’m unprepared for the violence of his need when he gets me down onto the bed.

Whatever he’s been holding back up to now is unleashed.

With a vengeance.

Kneeling on the mattress over me, he rips open the bodice of my dress. The sound of tearing fabric is almost as loud as the sound of my ragged breathing. Then he drags his shirt off over his head, falls on top of me with a snarl, shoves my bra up under my chin, and latches onto one of my rigid n*****s.

He greedily sucks it into his mouth.

When I cry out, he pauses his voracious sucking long enough to growl, “Gentle next time. This time, I’m gonna give you my marks.”

He sinks his teeth into the tender flesh below my n****e.

I groan, writhing underneath him. It hurts, but it also feels incredible. Shock waves of pleasure surge through my body from his stinging bite.

He does the same to my other breast, biting it like he wants to devour me whole.

Then he rears back, rolls me onto my belly, unhooks my bra with a practiced flick of his fingers, and yanks my dress down my hips and off my legs. My panties get the same rough treatment.

He tosses everything to the floor. When I look up over my shoulder at him, he’s staring down at my naked body with wild eyes and flared nostrils, tattooed chest heaving, his jaw and big fists clenched.

A thrill runs through me.

It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Part terror, part desire, and part pure adrenaline, it raises goose bumps on my arms and legs and makes my wild heartbeat go arrhythmic.

The way he wants me makes me feel superhuman. Like I’m capable of anything. Like all my atoms are vibrating at a dangerously high speed, threatening to c***k me wide open.

Like I could levitate right off this bed and set the whole house on fire.

Looking up into his blazing dark eyes, I realize this is the first time in my life I haven’t been afraid to be myself. The first time I haven’t been scared of being judged. The first time I don’t care about doing the safe thing, the smart thing, the thing I “should” do.

The first time I’ve felt truly free.

I whisper, “Do it, then. Do it all. Give me all of you. And don’t you dare hold back.”

In his split second of hesitation, he moistens his lips. His lids drift lower.

Then he grabs me by the ankles, drags me to the edge of the bed, leans down, and takes a big, greedy mouthful of my ass.

He sinks his teeth into it with an animal’s snarl.

It’s a primitive sound of victory. Like a lion gloating over a fresh kill.

Then in place of his teeth, I get his hand. His open palm meets the spot his mouth just was with a stinging c***k that makes me jump and yelp in shock.

He starts to speak to me in Russian.

Harsh, guttural Russian, the words spoken through clenched teeth.

It’s so hot, I can barely stand it.

He flips me onto my back, pulls my bra off, flings it away, and kisses me deeply, biting my lips. He’s breathing hard, and his hands are shaking. I know he’s teetering out on a thin ledge of self-control, just barely holding himself back because he’s worried that if he lets go completely like I demanded, he’ll hurt me.