Wrong Kind of Love

What do I say to that? He’s killed for me, saved me, condemned me... “You’re not a bad person, Jude. You just do bad things.” And God help me. That’s my downfall with him.

“But never to you.” He sweeps hair behind my shoulder. “Nietzsche said, ‘That which is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil,’ I believe it now.”

My heart lets out a pathetic hiccup. He’s high as a kite, reciting poetic quotes in a way that I didn’t think Jude even capable of. The word love rings through my mind like the echo of a bell. He’s just high.

“Who knew you were so well-read,” I say, trying to direct the conversation away from that.

“Oh, I’m very well-read.” His hand slides over the small of my back to my ass, then he pulls my shorts down. His hand goes between my thighs, and a smirk settles on his lips when his fingers brush against me. “Always so wet.” One of his thick fingers finds its way inside me—then another. I suck in an uneven breath, giving into the feeling.

Within minutes, Jude has me naked, trying to work his way between my thighs. “You’ll pull your stitches,” I say and shift out from beneath him only to crawl on top.

His hands land on my hips, guiding me as I sink down around his wide girth. I have to give myself a second to breathe through the sensation of him filling me to the point of blissful pain.

“This damn pussy,” he says, thrusting up from beneath me. I ride him, enjoying the way he looks at me, the way it feels to have so much control over a man like him. And just when I think I’m about to come, he flips me over and pins me, face down, to the mattress.

“How do you want me to fuck you, Tor?” He slides a hand over the small of my back before lifting my ass in the air. “Do you want me to fuck you hard, merciless?” The head of his cock slips inside just enough to tease me—“Or slow, making you agonize over your need to come.”

His dirty words have heat ripping through me, and I can’t even formulate a response. Instead, his name falls from my lips on a plea.

He slams inside me on a guttural groan, and we become a tangle of limbs, of desperate bodies chasing the high of sex. He fists my hair and bites my neck, each thrust bringing me closer and closer to an orgasm. Everything about this man is dangerous and addictive, from the possessive hold of his hand to the way he fucks me. There is no coming back from a man like this. Ever.

I climb higher and higher, my body tensing around him as my skin heats. Jude gives another hard tug to my hair, placing his lips at my ear. “You gonna come for me, doll?”

And those words are what send me over the edge. I push back against him, taking as much of him in as I can on a moan. His fingers dig into my hips, and he stills behind me, pushing in so hard I’m tempted to pull away, but instead, I relish in the twinge of pain mixed with pleasure that rips through me like a current.

Then he collapses to the bed, panting for breath, and I fall down right beside him, unable to imagine any other way I’d want to spend my life.

“You’ve fucked me up, doll.” He drags me onto his chest, the furious beat of his heart beneath my cheek. “Real good.”

“You fucked me up, too,” I whisper. And as I close my eyes to fall asleep, curled up in Jude’s arms, I can’t recall ever feeling more complete, more...loved.

21

Jude

Marney bitches about something from behind the bar then cuts on the sound system. Music pumps through Elysium’s speakers, almost drowning out the noise of a text popping over my phone.

Tor: Caleb says you don’t like Indian food. If that’s true, you’re expanding your horizons tonight

I smile before shooting a text back. Tor is a horrible cook, but every day she tries something new with this smile on her face. And every day, Caleb and I eat it, knowing it’s likely to make us sick.

Me: I’m going to expand your horizons tonight in bed.

I have to adjust the growing hard-on in my jeans at the thought of it. It’s been over two months since Rich dragged Tor into my house, since her death was faked, and while the dust has settled and we’ve found ourselves in a routine, the silence from Tom has me on edge. Not that it’s uncommon. It’s how he operates. After my mother and sister were murdered, he disappeared for years. Skipped the country. But that was after he’d carried out his revenge on my father. I’m still unfinished business, and that’s never a good thing. Especially not when I’m the one someone wants to finish.