“No, not yet. I don’t want you to go in there, not yet.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

“Because.” I bite my lip hard, nearly hard enough to draw blood. “I still need you.”

He kissed me then, lips pressing rough as his tongue darted past my teeth. I struggled once then leaned into that kiss, his taste flooding my mouth, all grass and musk and fresh soil. I moaned, unable to help it, feeling exposed and dominated all at once, his lips working at mine. He bit me gently once, then kissed me again, then bit me harder and I groaned, arching my back.

He pressed my wrist harder above my head and kept my body smothered with his own. He was practically in my seat, halfway across the car, his weight like the pressure of the deep ocean breaking me down.

I wanted that kiss more than I realized. I wanted it badly, wanted his fingers between my legs, his tongue and lips. I was dripping for him, god, it was so embarrassing, I was terrified that he’d reach down between my legs and find me absolutely soaked.

He’d know how badly I want him. How pathetic I was, how needy.

He’d know what I really meant to say.

I didn’t want him to go in there, because I still wanted him.

It wasn’t just his help. It was him.

The kiss stretched on, his teeth, his tongue, everything about him. I savored it like the first drink of water after a long night out, like spring’s first flowers. He was the only good thing in my life, the only bright spot in years and years of misery, and I didn’t know what he saw in me, why he’d want me like this, why he’d help me.

I wasn’t worth helping.

I was the enemy. The Doyle family and the Morozov family weren’t at war, but they were rivals. Keeping me around despite his Pakhan’s orders, killing his own friends to save my life, it was all too much.

It was overwhelming, it was dizzying, like his touch, like his words.

Finally, the kiss broke off. I gasped for air and arched my back then struggled against his grip. His eyes roamed down to my chest, the bastard.

He liked what he saw.

“Let me go,” I said, breathing fast. He still stared at my breasts, rising and falling.

But he released my wrists.

I pushed against his chest and he returned to his own seat. I curled up and looked away, trying to get myself under control. I didn’t want him to see how pink my cheeks were, how much I was blushing.

How badly I wanted more.

“Last chance, princess. I’ll go kill for you, all you have to do is ask.”

“No, not now.” I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze.

Because if I did, I think I’d throw myself across his car, straddle him, and grind my soaking, swollen clit down against his lap until I came.

“All right then.” He put the car in gear. “We’ll come back tonight and take a look around. Does that work for you?”

“Whatever you think is right.”

He laughed softly and pulled out into traffic.

My lips were raw and painful where he bit me and I ran my tongue along their length.

I tasted a little bit of blood and savored the sensation. A chill ran down my spine and I rubbed my wrists.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I was alone in the car with a wild animal, and I was the only person in this world holding his leash.

12

Mack

My desire for Fiona was a song stuck in my head. Again and again, she looped through my mind.

Her delicious, plump lips.

Her dark hair wrapped around my fist, the red tips poking out from between my fingers.

The way she arched her back. Her heaving breasts as she sucked in air.

Her pink cheeks. Her soaking pussy.

I wanted more so badly it drove me to distraction.

That night, we drove a few laps around that block. I watched the house as carefully as I could, noting the security cameras, the bars on the windows, and any routes around to the back of the house. There was an alley, and I bet there’d be more cameras watching it and more bars on the windows.

But the second floor didn’t look quite so protected.

The problem of how many men were hiding inside still tugged at me, but at least I had a good idea of the layout of the surrounding area. When we got home around two in the morning, Fiona excused herself to bed, barely able to stifle a yawn.

I couldn’t sleep though. I knocked back a vodka, then another, and paced around my living room.

My drab, empty living room, devoid of all personality because that was what Evgeni had taught me.

Control, Mack, always control yourself. His voice still rummaged through my brain. Sometimes I thought my own internal monologue sounded just like him.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Dark
Source: readsnovelonline.net