Final Debt (Indebted 6)

They’d drugged her.

They’d given her the same thing they’d given me when I was fifteen. Something so potent and heady no one could say no to the aphrodisiac power.

Goddammit.

My gut twisted into a knot as her tongue licked and flicked. I forced myself not to listen to her tainting thoughts—I didn’t want the urgent need to fuck to consume me. But my cock thickened, drawn to her even as I tried to battle the rapidly building need. “How—how did you fight it for so long? How did you stop?”

Her hands flew up my t-shirt, skirting over my wound, dancing over my skin like compelling butterflies. “Stop talking. Please…give me what I want. I need to feel alive. I need to take back what Daniel tried to steal. Please, Jethro. Please, fuck me.”

The memory of our first kiss in her room—the way she’d chopped my resolve to pieces with her demands to kiss her, fired into lustful flames.

Kiss me.

Fuck me.

She’d fought him; she’d killed him, even while under the influence. If she were anyone else, she would’ve willingly submitted. She would’ve enjoyed whatever Daniel did because her body would’ve given her no other choice. The drugs were beyond powerful, but somehow she’d been able to fight them along with fighting my brother’s advances.

I don't deserve this woman.

This Weaver. This answer to my wrongness. This salvation to my condemnation.

“Jethro…please.” Her kiss deepened.

“Goddammit.” In a vicious yank, I plucked her into my arms and stalked to the bed. Her hands flew into my hair, tugging as her mouth danced over mine.

Our breathing grew laboured. Our skin slick and sensitive.

My entire body stiffened. The tent crackled with lust so painful it crippled us.

How much time do we have?

We were tempting fate. Beyond stupid to give in.

There’s a dead body…

It was macabre.

It was wrong.

But I’d failed her in so many ways.

We didn’t know what awaited us.

We didn’t have the luxury of time.

She wanted this. It was the least I could do to obey.

Throwing her onto the bed, I stood over her. Her jaw-length hair fanned out on the white bedding, her legs spread, and her hand dipped to her pussy. Her fingers weren’t shy as she rubbed her clit.

My lungs refused to operate. “Shit, Needle.”

“Take me, Kite. I need you to take me.” Her finger smeared wetness around her entrance, her stomach tensing with pleasure. “I fought him. I managed to stay true to myself and not let the lust take control. But I’m tired. I’m empty. I can’t—I can’t fight it anymore.” Tears glittered on her eyelashes. “I need it. I need a release. I need to forget, for just a little while. I need to live, to remember, to be happy, to be free. Please.” Her fingers swirled faster, her skin flushing with need. “Oh, please…please.”

I couldn’t speak.

I was hypnotised by her.

My hands shook as I wrenched open my belt. The idiocy of fucking her when Cut could return at any moment had no power over us. Common-sense died on the pyre of desire and all I could think about was filling this stunning creature and claiming her over and over and fucking over again.

Her eyes met mine, and everything that’d happened the past few months fractured. This was all that mattered.

Making love. Connecting. Merging into one.

She was my all and only.

My world.

Her tongue licked her bottom lip, her teeth biting as her finger dipped inside. “Jethro…please!”

“Shush. You have me. I’m here.” My heartbeat drummed in my erection as I shoved down my jeans and boxer-briefs.

Nila’s eyes hooded as I fisted my cock, stroking hard and fast. “Tell me.” My voice was guttural.

“Tell you what?” The diamonds around her neck refracted light.

“My cock…how do you want it?”

A seductive smile lit her face. She moaned low and full of invitation. “Hard and fast. God, so hard. So fast.” Her hands skated to her nipples through her hoodie, twisting cruelly. “I’ve never felt like this before. This unhinged. This horny. God, please don’t make me wait any longer.” Her spine arched off the bed. “Fuck me.”

Fucking hell.

I lashed out. My hands captured her hips, yanking her toward the edge of the bed. “You want me? You can fucking have me.”

She cried out as I forced her thighs wide, presenting her pussy to me—glistening and perfect. I bowed and bit her knee, running my hand up her thigh and pressing a finger deep inside her.

She screamed.

I slapped a hand over her mouth. “Quiet!”

She was my punishment and penance all in one.

Her eyes rolled backward as I forced another finger inside her. Her hips rocked dangerous and demanding. She was liquid and heat. She didn’t want foreplay. She wanted to be fucked, used, abused, claimed.

My mind shattered; I couldn’t stop.

Her breathing turned ragged as I strummed her clit. My cock wept at how fucking beautiful she was. How needy and fierce.

“I’m going to take you.” I thrust my fingers hard. “I’m going to claim you. I’m going to give you everything because you deserve fucking everything. You deserve to be worshipped and praised. You deserve to be loved every damn day of your life.”

She gasped, her skin sticky with sweat.

Withdrawing my fingers, my heart filled to bursting.