Tarl just shrugs as if to say your loss, then grabs the back of Jude’s head, tangling his fingers in the other man’s hair, and pulling his lips into a heated kiss. I watch as Jude melts into Tarl, giving over to him completely, just like the way Lark gave into me, sinking into my caresses.
“You taste like her scent,” Tarl murmurs, loud enough for me to hear, and a slight rumble sounds in the back of my throat. Looks like Aeron isn’t the only jealous bastard around here.
Jude giggles, like honest to fuck giggles, and I swear, somewhere, a newborn is crying at the sound. “Aeron said I couldn’t fuck her like Knox did,” he replies, my lips flattening as heat flushes through me. “But he said nothing about licking.”
“Enough,” I growl, attempting to loosen my tightened jaw.
“If only you’d let me help with those big ole, blue balls of yours.” Jude sighs like I’m a fucking naughty child, and I swear to fuck that I take a step forward, ready to punch that smirk off his pretty boy face. Maybe my little bird would like him less with a broken nose.
“Dad just called,” Aeron declares, storming into the room like a fucking thundercloud, tucking his phone into his suit jacket pocket. He completely misses the tension rolling off of me,but his lips tighten when he notices the damp cloth in the sink.Fucking jackass. “He wants progress with our pretty captive. We start tonight.”
And just like a bucket of ice-cold water being thrown over me, all jealousy washes away to be replaced with something uncomfortable, like a lump in your throat. I glance over to Jude and Tarl and see them staring at Aeron, their faces blank, though Jude has an excited gleam in his eyes.
“I won’t beat her,” I grit out in the quiet room, and three sets of eyes swing my way, but I don’t back down. “I don’t hurt women or children,” I state, my chin lifted as I stare at Aeron. I’m usually the one that goes in first with fists flying, breaking bones and faces until our captives talk to end the pain, or Tarl steps in, but not this time.
“One taste and her gash is making you soft, Knox?” Aeron questions, one dark brow lifted, but the fucker knows he won’t get a rise from me, and I know that he’s not asking any of us to hurt her like that. We may be gangbangers, but even we have lines we refuse to cross.
I stay silent, holding his icy stare until he lets out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I have other ways to make the canary sing,” he tells us as he looks back up, and a shiver runs through me at the sparkle in his blue orbs. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a matching rush in my own limbs. We may have lines, but we’re still fucked-up bastards, and there’s something intoxicating about making that beautiful woman submit to us.
The doorbell rings and Jude claps with a squeal as he rushes over to answer it. The rest of us look at him with matching frowns, but my eyebrows soon go up into my hairline when he wheels in his latest purchase.
“Let the fun begin,” he declares with a manic gleam in his eyes, practically hopping from foot to foot, and the fucked-upman that I am, my lips lift into a grin as I contemplate all the ways that we will make my little bird tell us her secrets.
I just know that she will sing beautifully.
“PANIC ROOM - ACOUSTIC” BY AU/RA
LARK
Gazing out of the window in Aeron's bedroom at the night sky, the lights of the city below replace the stars that are all but hidden above. I chuckle to myself whilst imagining the stars falling from the sky and landing here, their glorious, celestial light being gobbled up by the sin and depravity that lurks in Whetstone, Colorado.
The door opens behind me, but I don't turn around, knowing that the day of reckoning has finally arrived. I'm healed enough to be broken again.
Heat engulfs my back, the intoxicating mix of clean cotton, amber, sandalwood, and vanilla smell of Aeron Taylor wrapping around me and ensnaring my senses. Strong, warm hands alight on my naked shoulders and a shudder runs through my whole body at his featherlight touch.
I’ve just released a lust-filled sigh when a warm, minty breath caresses my cheek moments before lips brush my ear and my nipples pebble to hardened nubs.
“Time to go, Dove.” His voice is dark and unemotional, and yet it seeps into me and devastates me all the same. I swallow painfully, like I've tried to eat too much in one go, and give a small nod, turning around, his hands falling from my shoulders.He doesn't step back, doesn't move at all, his face limned in the city lights behind me as he stands so close that I can feel the brush of his suit jacket. He takes me in, his eyes devouring my nakedness; from my puckered nipples to my hot pussy. One of his hands reaches out, his fingers trailing along the side of my face, his own expression remaining hard and unyielding. “I'd be lying if I said that I won’t enjoy hurting you, Dove,” he confesses softly, his thumb running along my bottom lip.
“I'd be lying if I said that I won't enjoy it,” I reply, his nostrils flaring at my words.
My chest rises and falls rapidly, my skin tingling at his nearness, his touch confusing me. I shouldn't want him, and yet there's something about him that makes me feel alive, and not in a state of suspended death like I have been for the past ten years.
We stand there, Aeron looking at me like he wants to devour my very essence. It wouldn't be much of a feast for him, shriveled and tainted as it is, but a part of me—a large fucking part, if I'm being totally honest—wants him too. I want him to take all of my ruin and make it his own.
“Come on,” he murmurs after a time, his hand falling from my face and shocking the absolute shit out of me by tangling it with my own, leading me out of the room.
“Do I get any clothes?” I ask, trying to calm my racing heart as we head down the mezzanine level towards some metal stairs. It's the first time I've left the room, and I try to absorb my surroundings as much as possible.
It's a warehouse conversion by the looks of it with lots of metal beams and exposed brickwork. I find comfort in its openness. Its space.
“Not until you earn them,” Aeron answers in that same monotone voice, not letting go of my hand as he leads me down the stairs and back to that fucking basement door.
My steps falter then, and I hate myself for showing even that small glimpse of fear. I grew up in the Dead Soldiers with my sadist father. I shouldn't be afraid of anything anymore, but yeah, I guess heading back into a torture chamber is not on my list of Friday night fun things to do.
Aeron steadies me with his other hand on my waist, his face filling my vision, and suddenly I'm drowning in his ocean eyes. He holds me captive, his hand on my body tightening marginally, my breath catching at the move.
