The Dark Elite (The Dark Elite 1)

When he pushed me over the edge with two fingers on my clit, there was always something controlled and methodical in his motions.

Not anymore.

There’s not a hint of restraint as he devours me, licking and sucking at my pussy as if it’s a meal he’s been starving for his whole life. He runs his tongue up my slit, pressing so deep I can feel

it inside me, before flicking the tip up and down over my clit so fast that stars dance in my vision.

“Hale!”

His name bursts from my lips before I can stop it, and at the sound of his name, he growls against my skin. The flat of his tongue drags across my sensitive bud as he laps at me, making heat spread through my entire body.

My head thrashes back and forth, and my thighs clamp around Hale’s head, pinning him in place. But he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. His big hands grip my legs, digging into the flesh deep enough to leave marks as he closes his lips over my pussy and sucks.

Pleasure explodes inside me like fireworks, and my back arches so hard that only my ass and the top of my head still touch the mattress.

I feel like I’m flying.

Like I’m falling.

Like I’ll never find solid ground again.

My heart races as consciousness rushes in, my eyes snapping open. My gaze struggles to come into focus, and as it does, I find myself staring into deep green eyes with brown specks—Lucas.

He hovers over me as if he was about to rouse me from sleep, but I sink farther into the bed, trying to pull away from him.

I don’t trust him, not after what his brother did.

Not after what I did with his brother.

“We need to get going, princess.” His hands are already working at the knots at my wrists; I barely have time to recover from my dream. “Rise and shine.”

The feeling of the ropes falling free is an immediate relief from a weight I didn’t know was holding me. I rub the area where the binds were, hoping to restore some of the warmth and circulation, rubbing the raw patches of skin where Hale tied them too tight, leaving angry red channels in my wrists.

“Where are we going?” I ask, lifting my head. My voice sounds like sandpaper, and that’s exactly what it feels like in my throat.

For the first time, my head doesn’t seem to spin with the movement as I come to a sit. Somehow, I actually fell asleep. For how long, who knows, but I feel better now. Stronger. That’s good. I’ll need my strength if I’m going to try again to escape. I need to get back home. Back to Brian.

God, I hope he survived the shootout. Please let him be alive.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I take an assertive step. The world instantly tilts and spins around me, but Lucas lunges for me, grasping my arms in a steady hold. Instead of thanking him, I push him away, annoyed by the fact that I need help and unwilling to accept kindness from him.

Moments of kindness confuse me. Memories of the past muddy my feelings.

These men are my captors. My enemies.

I need to remember that, first and foremost.

“I’m hungry,” I mutter thickly. I haven’t eaten since I’ve been here, and fierce hunger tears through my stomach.

My legs wobble again, and I steady myself with a hand on the dresser. Lucas looks at me with concern, but I ignore him. I don’t need his help.

“We’ll get you something in a bit. Get dressed.” He throws me a pile of clothes. “You’ll need the warmth.”

I catch the clothes with one hand, half of them falling to the ground. When I look at the garments, I’m suddenly thankful for something more decent to wear than what I had on—the stack consists of a pair of jeans, cable-knit sweater, fresh underwear, and socks. The room is warm, but gauging by the snow outside the window, I don’t think I want to be wearing nothing but skinny jeans and a t-shirt wherever it is we’re going.

I gather up the pieces I dropped, then wait for Lucas to leave the room and give me privacy, but he doesn’t move. He just watches me absently.

Does he know about what happened with his brother? And with Hale?