Fractured (Deep In Your Veins 5)

It wasn’t often I found myself a little lost for words. I couldn’t remember a time when my happiness had mattered to anyone. I’d grown up in a household where I was a constant disappointment to the people around me. I’d just never been good enough for them, never had a real place in my own family. It was more like I’d existed around them.

Not once had my parents ever smiled at just the sight of me. Nothing I did had ever impressed them or brought them joy or pride. Not one single thing. They’d wanted me to live my life their way, regardless of if that made me happy or not. I wanted to be happy. Sometimes, searching for good things meant taking risks.

I put my hands on his chest. “Want to know why I don’t like entering into relationships that don’t have possibilities? My grandmother was in her late twenties when she got divorced. She didn’t do too well with it, and she was pretty lonely. She told me that she met a guy a few years later; that he cared for her and she cared for him…but she wasn’t ready for anything serious. She needed more time before she committed to someone again. So they went their separate ways.

“She never found anyone else. People take it for granted that they’ll meet someone later ‘when they’re ready.’ But that doesn’t always happen, so they end up settling for somebody because they don’t want to be alone. My grandmother didn’t want to settle for someone she didn’t truly care for. So she grew old alone, she shared all her highs and lows alone, and she died alone. I don’t want that for myself. I don’t want to live with that kind of regret.”

“Is this you agreeing to take a chance on me, baby?”

“Well…yeah.”

His mouth curved into a lopsided grin. “Good…that means I don’t have to keep you captive until you agree to give me what I want.” I got the feeling he wasn’t kidding. “And I want everything, Imani. I know I’ve gotta earn that. I will. I swear that to you, baby.”

I nodded. His mouth closed over mine, and his tongue swept inside. Tasted. Dominated. Owned. Butch didn’t kiss, he possessed. Demanded everything I had and took it greedily while his hands pulled me closer, letting me feel how hard he was for me.

He broke the kiss with a growl. “All I want to do right now is fuck you. But first, you need to feed.”

I did. When Kejas were thirsty, it caused a slight discomfort at the back of our throat. Mine was now more like a rough tickle. As he cupped the back of my head and put my mouth to his throat, my fangs descended.

“Feed, baby. You need it.” He groaned as I sank my fangs into his throat. “That’s it. Good girl.”

His taste—hazelnuts and dark chocolate—settled on my tongue, soothed my throat, and seemed to spread through me like warm honey. I drank and drank, helplessly grinding against the long, hard cock digging into me. Forcing myself to pull back, I licked over the bite and watched as it closed.

Growling, he fisted a hand in my hair and yanked me closer. I expected him to do what he’d done many times before: pull my head aside and bite hard. Hell, I was looking forward to it. He didn’t. Instead, he licked at my throat—long, sensual licks that made my toes curl. I had a seriously sensitive neck, and it seemed to have a direct link to my clit. And the bastard knew it.

I threaded my fingers through his hair as his tongue circled my pulse. When he sucked it into his mouth, I gasped…waiting with anticipation for him to bite down. His teeth dug into my skin, but they didn’t break it. Then he was licking at my throat again. Lapping my pulse. Nipping it. Grazing it with his teeth. Everything but biting it.

Was he waiting for me to ask him to do it? Was that it? I wasn’t too proud to ask, especially not when I was wet and aching for him. “Drink from me.” He held my rapidly beating pulse between his teeth, but he still didn’t bite down. “Do it and—” I broke off as his hand dove into my shorts and panties, cupping me possessively. “Shit.”

He spoke into my ear as he slid a finger between my folds. “I’ll have my taste when my cock’s in you, taking what belongs to me. Only me, Imani.” He thrust his finger inside. “Ride it.”

I rose up and down on his finger, my head falling back as sensations rocketed through me.

The hand in my hair pulled my face to his. “No,” he said against my mouth. “I want your eyes.” I kept my gaze locked with his as I rode his finger, my nails biting into his shoulders. “That’s it. You’re getting tighter. You need to come, don’t you?”

I did, I needed it right then…but he shook his head.

“Not until I’m in you.”

“I can’t wait.”

“You will.” He drove another finger inside me, his eyes daring me to come despite his warning. Motherfucker. It wasn’t that Butch got off on defiance or even submission. No, he got off on pushing me; on making me take as much as I could take. So when his fingers curved just right and my release got that little bit closer, he withdrew his fingers—not in the least bit bothered by the insults I slung at him.

In Pagori speed, he took me to the bedroom, stripping us both naked along the way. He roughly flung me on the bed and draped himself over me. Then his hand was palming my breast as he sucked my nipple deep into his mouth. Hard. Roughly. Letting me feel the edge of his teeth. “Fuck, baby, this is going to be fast.” His tongue curled around my neglected nipple before giving it one long, hard suck. “I’ve waited too long for this.”

Curling my limbs tight around him, I dug my nails into his back. “Then don’t wait any longer.” I arched into him, rubbing against the head of his cock. “Now.”

He slammed home, groaning as my body squeezed and pulsed around him. I’d totally forgot how much he stretched me; forgot how good the burn felt. He didn’t pause to let me get used to his size. Just pounded into me at a feral pace, going so deep it hurt. But I loved that, even needed it. No one had ever fucked me the way he did—his movements were always dominant and aggressive, and yet there was a reverence there that I could feel but not fully explain.

“I’ve missed this,” he rumbled against my throat, closing a hand over my breast and squeezing hard. “Missed the feel of you. Tight and hot and perfect. You were made to take my cock, Imani.” He thrust harder, faster. His teeth raked over my pulse, teasing and warning me. And when he slid a hand between us to part my folds, exposing my clit to every hard slam of his cock, my release finally crashed into me.