Captivated (Deep in Your Veins 6)

“It’s the same for me. Being part of the legion is tough at times. And life at The Hollow … it can be like living in a bubble—your life is so free of every day shit like rent and bills and all that stuff. But that bubble isn’t exactly protective, since it includes a truck load of danger. It’s way scarier than my years on the run. And yet, I’ve never felt safer. Is that weird?”

“No. Not weird at all. I know exactly what you mean.”

That little moment of total understanding must have made him feel as uncomfortable as it did me, because we both briefly looked away. “Have you seen anything of your parents since you Turned?” I asked.

“No. If I was a Sventé, I guess I could have. But with these red irises? No. Both my parents are gone now anyway. My dad died in action. And my mother then drank herself to death.” He moved his hand from my back to my waist and settled it there, tracing my hipbone with his thumb. “I hate that I had to go ‘missing’ and let them believe I might be dead—I’d gone missing from their lives once before. They didn’t deserve to have it happen twice.”

I blinked. “Twice?”

“I was abducted as a baby by some fucking weirdo who couldn’t have a kid of her own and so decided that I’d be hers.”

I felt my jaw drop. “What? No way.”

“Way. The police tracked me down after three weeks, but it must have felt like years to my parents. I don’t remember any of it, obviously. But I remember my parents were seriously overprotective for a long time. I can hardly blame them for that, though.”

I lightly touched his chest. “I’m sorry that happened,” I said, not really knowing what else to say to something like that. What a head wrecker it would be to know you’d been kidnapped as a baby.

The hand on my hip slipped down to palm my butt. “Love this ass,” he said.

Apparently we were done with the heavy stuff. Good. Because our talks made it hard to remember that we were only about sex.

He squeezed my butt. “Has anyone ever taken you here?”

“No. And you won’t be doing it either.”

His mouth kicked up into a smile, and his eyes then dropped to my chest. “Hmm, such pretty breasts.” He dipped down and sucked one nipple into his mouth.

My eyes fluttered closed, and I palmed the back of his head. The whole time he toyed with my breasts with his tongue, his hands roamed over me, sure and bold. Every little touch felt … more. Because I was conscious of how little time we had left.

Once the sun set, this would be over, I’d be gone, and we’d move forward as colleagues. The thought made my heart squeeze and my nose sting. But I wasn’t going to spoil this with tears or complaints. I wasn’t going to have an internal pity party. No, I was going to make the most of what time we had left.

I was also going to make damn sure he remembered me.

(Max)

I suddenly found myself flat on my back with Paige hovering over me. Damn, the woman was fast. And a lot fucking stronger than she looked.

I frowned when she began shuffling backwards. “Where are you going?”

The look she gave me was wicked.

I hissed as she dragged her tongue up my shaft from root to tip. My thigh muscles jumped. “Jesus.”

Fisting the base of my dick, she took me into her mouth—no preamble, no warning, no hesitation. Just closed her lips around the broad head and then sucked me deep.

I drew in a sharp breath and bunched my hands in all that gorgeous hair. “Yeah, that’s it. Fuck, your mouth looks even prettier when it’s full of my cock.”

She couldn’t know how many times I’d imagined her sucking me off. The reality was better than those imaginings. It was like being surrounded in a hot, silken fist. She wasn’t gentle or tentative. She sucked hard, kept the suction tight, let out these goddamn moans that went straight to my balls.

I groaned as I hit the back of her throat. “Take more, baby.” She did, swallowing again and again. I cursed as the muscles of her throat contracted around me. “Yes, like that, good girl.” Watching those lips slide up and down my shaft and feeling her tongue rub the underside just right … shit, I was currently feeling far too possessive of that mouth.

Hell, I was feeling far too possessive of her.

Since our ‘arrangement’ began, I’d explored every inch of her. I’d taken her in every way possible—soft, slow, hard, fast, rough. I’d taken her in practically every position. I’d fucked her on nearly every available surface in my apartment.

And it wasn’t enough.

I only wanted more. Which meant I was royally fucked.