A Beauty Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 1) (20 page)

Emmy was familiar with the art of making love. She'd had a couple of boyfriends in high school and one in college, but none of them made her feel the way Jason was making her feel right now. Her pelvis throbbed with desire. It pulsated painfully against her inner wall, and if he didn't fill her soon, she was going to sob. There was a need for him, a need she didn't particularly understand. It was as though her life depended on being with him in this way. Her body craved him the way she craved chocolate once a month. She needed him desperately, and this uncontrollable urge to be with him physically scared her because it was completely unexpected. He was the last person she ever saw herself with. He didn't go to college, he didn’t have a stable job, and he had been married before. On top of that, he had been tried for the murder of his wife and her boyfriend. A jury didn't even say he was not guilty; Jason got off on a technicality.

The thought thrilled her. It was the worst thing she had ever felt, and she knew she would probably feel nothing but guilt afterward, but the thought that the hands currently touching her right now, the mouth currently kissing her, had done something so terrible, so cruel, so awful...

The danger thrilled her. And she hated herself for it. But not enough to stop.

His hands gripped her waist like he never planned on letting her go anytime soon. Like he would have his way with her as many times as she wished. And she wanted that too. God, she wanted that, too.

She could feel his hand press against her hip and she gasped. He swallowed the noise by capturing her lips with his once again. His hands started to travel, from her waist up to her stomach. His fingers, callused and rough, touched her bare skin, her flat stomach, and it traveled up until it reached the hem of her jacket.

"Take it off," she said against his lips, she said without thinking.

Jason snapped back so his butt rested on his ankles, and he looked at Emmy with wide, searching eyes. It was almost as though he wanted to be hopeful but didn't want to risk it. From the dark shade of blue, she knew he wanted her. Badly. She wondered if her eyes reflected the same desire, the same need for his body, because she certainly felt it.

Regardless, he listened to her. He took his shirt off in that masculine way where men reach behind them to pull up their shirt and contort their torso so it was easier to slide it up and off. Emmy couldn't stop herself from reaching for him, putting her hands on his skin and pulling him back to her. He was beautiful - a stocky body type, toned and in shape for his age. Her fingers twitched over his abdomen and she felt him flinch, like her touch sizzled and he couldn't handle it. It made her feel powerful and she found that she wanted more of that power over him, wanted to make him beg and moan and plead and say her name in a throaty voice.

His mouth found hers once more, like they were positive and negative atoms, like they didn't have a choice to but to attract. He was rougher this time. He tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth, eliciting a surprised moan from her mouth. He wanted his power back and she was happy to give it to him for now. She likes being in control but she would give it up for a minute or two but only to him. He could dominate her, do whatever he wanted with her, to her body, because she trusted him and she knew he would shower pleasure over her. Her pelvis throbbed painfully just thinking about it.

His lips descended to her jawbone. Emmy wasn't sure how it was possible, but there was something sensual about the jawbone, about the attention he lavished on it. From there, he trailed his lips downward, to her neck, where he pulse best against her skin the way boxers beat against a sack of meat. He slobbered on her skin which should have been gross but wasn't. He nipped and tugged and pulled and she was sure he was going to leave multiple hickeys on her neck but she didn't care. She didn't care, not when it felt so good. She felt like a teenage boy - or, at least, she could imagine this incessant need to have sex with someone to the point where it didn't matter what stood in her way, she was going to get him inside of her no matter what it took.

Emmy could feel the strength in his hands, how they clutched at her, pinched her, pressed into her. Yet she could feel the restraint on top of that as well. His strength overwhelmed her but his gentleness consumed her, and the mixture of the two made her moisten between her thighs. He could hurt her if he really wanted to. He could force her to do this by his mere physicality alone. But there was more to him, a softness buried deep beneath the jagged edges that made him who he was. It was a softness she wanted to take over, to immerse herself in, to solely call it hers. She wanted to tease it out of him, slowly as to not overwhelm him and not rush it. She liked the chase, she liked the work she put into it, she liked the torture it caused within herself to wait, to anticipate. They had all the time in the world. It was raining outside, the dog was upstairs, and there would be no interruptions for an indeterminate amount of time. Why rush when they could slow things down, take their time, and explore everything they each had to offer.

As her hands roamed his back, they came in contact with distorted skin. He flinched again but this time, he pulled away. Emmy searched his eyes, wondering if she had pushed too far, touched too much. He looked wary, stiff, and she wasn't sure what to do. Was the moment broken because she stumbled upon something so secret, so personal, she doubted anyone really knew about it? They were scars. Multiple. Deep. Permanent. Indicating abuse. And Jason, her beautiful Jason, was ashamed of them.

"Hey," Emmy said, her voice gentle. She reached up to cup his cheek with her palm. He leaned into it desperately. "It's okay. We can stop."

"The last thing I want to do is stop," he breathed, and she swallowed because his voice did things to her insides she wasn't fully prepared for.

"Do you have a...?" She let her voice trail off, pressing up her brow. She was a grown adult and she still had trouble saying condom. It was kind of embarrassing.

"Oh," he said, pushing off of her. "Yeah. Upstairs.  In my room." He paused. "Should we head up there anyway? So the first time can be in a bed?"

Emmy giggled. "First time?" she said, teasing. "We'll see how you do tonight and then we can decide if it's worth doing again." He blushed and Emmy stood up on her toes to kiss the tip of his nose. "Come on! Let's go so we don't lose the momentum!"

They bounded up the stairs, laughing and giggling like teenagers. Once they got to the bedroom, Rumpel ran off as though he knew what they were going to do and wanted no part in the spectacle. Emmy and Jason barely noticed. The minute they were inside, Jason pushed Emmy into the wall and captured her mouth with his once more. His pelvis pressed into hers and she could feel his desire for her and it only made her throb with her own. She found he liked to be in control, liked to have all the power, which was fine with her because she liked how vulnerable she felt.

It wasn't long before he began to discard her clothes. In fact, as he did so, he began to lead her to the bed, leaving a trail of her sticky wet clothing behind, like a raunchy version of Hansel and Gretel. When they hit the bed, they were completely naked. Jason's eyes burned through her skin, taking in every inch she had to offer, like she was a goddess and he had come to worship her body.

"You're beautiful," he said when his eyes finally reached her face again. "You're fucking beautiful."

She wasn't sure how to respond. She had been called beautiful before by previous boyfriends but none who meant it with every ounce of his being. She felt beautiful. And he was, too.

She reached out and touched him - her fingers fluttered across his abdomen, making him twitch. Her hand trailed lower and lower until she found him, and with a boldness she didn't realize she possessed, she wrapped her fingers around him. He gasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. His knees buckled and he nearly fell to the bed, but his last ounce of strength was spent keeping himself upright as she began to explore him and how he reacted to her touch. If she thought she had power before, it was nothing compared to this. So she continued to explore him, continued to caress and pull and tug and twist, all while being gentle. The noises he made were like an addictive resource she needed to fuel her drive, and she refused to stop until he grabbed her hand and all but begged her to.

"Not yet," he choked out, his voice desperate. "Not until I get to feel you from the inside."

She swallowed at his words. The pulsing inside of her got more insistent, more desperate, until it felt almost painful against the walls of her pelvis. He took his hands and traced them downward, outlining the curves of her body, trailing down the length of her legs. Gently, he pushed them open so he was between them and his eyes took in everything her body had to offer. He was gobsmacked at her beauty and she was too much in awe to be embarrassed at how thoroughly he was staring. She watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, indicating he was just as nervous as she was. It made her feel better, as though they were now in this together.

He looked at her with midnight blue eyes, a question residing in the irises. She knew exactly what he was asking her. She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head back, arching and giving him the answer she hoped he would understand. His eyes flashed dark and a primal instinct took him over. His grip reached her waist until he was holding her tightly. His hands seemed to fit her hips perfectly and he held her like he was staking a claim on her body. She didn't care. She was his, hands down, white flag waving, all of her.

He positioned himself above her and slowly entered her slick lips with his sheathed cock. He was dragging this on painfully slow and she wasn't sure if it was for her benefit or his. She could feel how badly he wanted her, could feel him twitch as he inches inside of her. A whimper broke free from her mouth, one she couldn't stop from escaping if she tried, and that was all he needed before he threw slow to the wayside and completely thrust himself inside of her. She let out a cross between a gasp and a scream - a sound she had never heard herself emit before - and her head knocked back into the pillow as her eyes rolled back at the complete feeling that exuded throughout her form at the presence of him inside of her.

At first, he was slow, feeling her from the inside out, teasing her, exploring her. He wanted to go slow, it would seem, so he could feel her wholly and completely. There was no reason for them to rush, not when they've waited so long. Not when they had all the time in the world. Which they did.

Her hands clutched at his arms and it was almost tortuous, how slowly he was dragging this out. Her eyes were wide, pleading. It was as if this had built up in her so fast that she needed immediate release but the look on his face said he didn't particularly care; he was going to take his time and she would have to deal with it.

Emmy had never been with someone who could make her come without her own assistance. She didn't mind it because she knew her body better than anyone else. However, from the angle of her hips, Jason hit her just right. She didn't even have to do anything. Her breathing got short as the tingling built up - more and more and more. Her head started to get light, chin tilted back, and without warning, he claimed her exposed neck with his mouth the way a wolf would snap the neck of its prey.

That was her undoing. Her vision exploded in fireworks and she didn't even have time to tell him let alone say anything except his name. He thrust in, keeping time with her spasms before he finished as well. He grunted, moaned, made all sounds that shouldn't be attractive but came out masculine and sexy and -

She wrapped her arms around him tight as he finished and when he finished, he collapsed on top of her without placing his weight on her.

"Oh my God," she said, feeling sweat accumulate on her brow.

"Yeah," Jason agreed.

It wasn't long before they fell asleep.

Chapter 11

A smile nothing short of blissful featured on Emmy's face as she was aroused from her slumber. She could not fight off the smile nor could she force herself to feel a sense of guilt that was not there. She had slept with Jason Belmont. A few times, if one was technical about it. And it was the best experience she had ever been a part of in her entire life. It was as though her body was on fire and she was still simmering hours after the fact. Even now, she still wasn't able to breathe properly, still wasn't able to open her eyes entirely. She could feel electricity brimming from her fingertips and was certain if she touched herself, sparks would fly and she'd be shocked.

She could feel Jason breathing behind her, his hot breath tickling the hairs on the back of her neck. Her tummy felt like bowling pins being knocked into by bowling balls, and it was difficult to get her breathing adjusted. She was afraid to move, afraid to be anything but still because she did not want to shatter this moment. She was afraid that if they were both awake, one of them might regret what had happened. Worse would be if they wanted to do it again.

And Emmy wanted to do it again.

Even thinking it caused her face to flush with heat and she was certain she turned as red as a cherry on top of an ice cream sundae. She buried her face deeper into the crook of Jason's arm as though to hide her shame - though who she was hiding from, she did not know. She had no idea things would progress in such an unpredictable way, and now that they had, there was no way to change back to the way things had been. Emmy wasn't sure if that was what she wanted. In fact, she didn't know what she wanted at all, and the thought frustrated her because she always knew what she wanted. However, her head and her heart were at odds with each other, and while she knew what she wanted on an emotional level, she wasn't sure that desire was logical for her to pursue. She closed her eyes right, trying to keep up with her conflicting feelings.

On the one hand, Jason had legally been acquitted of murder - of both murders. He was single. He was warm, gentle, and sweet. He was a decent cook and made jokes that weren't all that funny but he tried. He was also concerned about her comfort level, about how people treated her due to her affiliation with him, and how her grandfather was doing. His written work was brilliant and captivating, well thought out, and deep. He knew what he wanted to say with his stories and how he wanted to say it. She liked that he was quiet; he didn't go out of his way to prove anything and he really didn't need to. His body of work, as well as the court decisions, stood for themselves so there was no reason for him to comment. And he was an excellent kisser and an unselfish lover. Just thinking about that caused her pelvis to tremble. She was sore but she wanted more of it, more of him.

On the other hand, there was still a part of her, a small fraction of what had been inside of her when she first got to Jason's place, that believed there was more to the story than anyone knew. That maybe Jason was holding back on something that needed to be shared with the public.

What that was, she didn't know. And, to be frank, was it really important? He was legally acquitted. That was all that mattered. And he never threatened her, never scared her. He was the perfect gentleman.

That was how they all started out, though, wasn’t it? It wasn't as though murderers were easy to spot, it wasn't as though violence rolled off the shoulders of men and women in waves that made it easy to decipher who to get close to and who to avoid. Stacey and her lover met an unfortunate end. She wondered, at that moment, if anyone took the time to ask Jason what he felt, if he was okay. If he didn't commit the act - which the law said he didn't - he was just a victim as well. Not only did he lose his wife to another man, but she was taken from him before they could decide whether or not they were going to repair their marriage. That unto itself was a tragedy, and Emmy felt her heart cracking at the thought.

Even though she had just had sex with him, even though she wanted to do it again, she could not help but be surprised by the twinge of sympathy she felt for Jason. It was as though the media had trained her to regard him as a villain and any compassion for him was regarded as compliance in his crimes.

She shook her head. That perception of him needed to change. She needed to see Jason not as a murderer and not as a victim. She needed to see him as a man who was starting over in life, who was kind and quiet, warm and reserved. A man she could end up loving if she wasn't careful. A man she might already be falling for...

"You think any louder, you're going to wake up the whole forest," came a mumbled reply.

Emmy felt her lips quirk up in a grin, as she shifted her eyes so they rested on Jason's upturned face. His eyes were still closed and his messy hair littered his face, but even she could not deny how beautiful he was. That was the one consistent thought she had about him during the entirety of her stay.

He was clothed in nothing but a pair of boxers, and for some reason, he hated the covers, choosing to sleep on the blankets rather than under them. This was fine for Emmy because she loved the blankets and was known to hog them in her sleep. Even during the hottest nights, she still needed something covering her, even just a plain, cool sheet, so she had the facade of protection against the night. She had always been this way, and it didn't appear as though it would change now.

Because of his hatred of blankets, Jason was exposed to Emmy's eyes, and seeing him stirred her appetite. There was a surprisingly fit body underneath his robe, and judging from the weights in the corner of his room and the pull-up bar in his doorway, he worked out on a daily basis. It would explain those arms she had no problem getting acquainted with last night. She loved touching them, squeezing them. Loved knowing she was responsible for the way they tensed up underneath her touch.

"Tell me," he said, and now he opened his eyes - a surprising shade of blue, clearer than she had ever seen it before. Like the sky after a storm. "What's on your mind? And don't say nothing."

Emmy smirked. She didn't realize he knew her well enough to read her mind or predict the words that would come out of her mouth. She turned to him and placed her head in her hand so she could look at Jason clearly - as clearly as she could for just having woken up. She could feel her lips turn up into a soft smile - she couldn't stop smiling and she genuinely felt foolish at her inability to control the facial inflections she was emitting to the world - and she knew the reason for it was Jason. It was something she never experienced before - uncontrollable smiling - and the fact that this man in front of her was the one responsible for it was even more unbelievable.

"I'm not really thinking of anything," she told him, and she was being honest. "I'm just looking at you."

She could tell her comment made him uncomfortable from the way his face tightened and his eyes looked away.

"Now why would you want to do that?" he asked in his indecipherable mumble.

"Because you're beautiful." His eyes snapped into hers, and he almost looked angry. Angry that she was say something so sweet and so unbelievable because there was no way it could be true. But she did not blink, did not look away, did not flinch under his penetrating gaze. In fact, she moved - keeping her eyes locked with his the whole time - until she crawled on top of him, straddling his waist, letting him see her in all her bare naked glory. She would not be shy in front of him; she would not feel shame in front of him. "Because I like looking at you."

She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down after he swallowed, and she tilted her head at him. "What?" she asked. Her fingers began to trace nonsensical patterns on his chest, and she could feel the skin underneath her tighten at her mindless ministrations.

Jason didn't answer. Instead, he lunged for her. Before Emmy knew what was happening, Jason flipped her on her back and pinned her beneath him. His mouth was on hers and he didn't seem to care about morning breath because he opened her mouth with his tongue and explored it as though it was the first time and he already wasn't familiar with it. This caused Emmy to lose track of all rational thought to the point where she didn't even worry about what her breath must taste like, couldn't even detect a problem with his, not when her thoughts were fogging up and fire began to spread through her veins.

She clawed up at his face. There would be scratches there, on his back, everywhere. It wasn't as though she could help it. He brought out this uncontrollable need in her, where she had to have him no matter what the cost, no matter what that meant. She liked seeing her scratches on his flesh because it meant that last night happened, that it was real and not just a dream. It reminded her how badly she wanted him. It didn't matter that her body aches. It didn't matter that she smelled of sweat, sake, and sex. She needed him inside her, and she needed it now.

Jason seemed to be on the same page. His fingers were like irons, searing into her skin. No one would be able to touch her the way he touched her from this point on. He had ruined her, totally and completely, and there was nothing she could do about it. She didn't want to do anything about it. She wanted him to ruin her again and again and again.

It was much faster to connect than it was last night. Both were naked, both were ready, and both wanted it badly. Jason's hold on her was much more confident, like he knew she wouldn't break under him. Like he knew she could withstand the torturous pleasure he would give her.

Before she could catch her breath, Jason flipped her over so she was on her stomach and he was behind her. She felt vulnerable and exposed. Her muscles tensed with anticipation, waiting with baited breath to see what he would do, and how. Clearly she trusted him, for her to allow him to have access to her body. No limitations. No fear. Nothing that would inhibit her from saying no. Not even his reputation. Not even the fact that he could be a murderer.

Somehow, she could feel his eyes - those deep dark pools of blue - penetrating her skin as they took the sight in. She wasn't sure what he saw, but she wasn't shy about her body. She knew that like every woman, she had flaws. But her assets made up for them and tended to make up for it. They distracted her lover to the point where she was utter perfection in their eyes. It made sex much more enjoyable not worrying about little things like that and focusing all of her attention on the pleasure she expected him to instill on her body.

--

Jason couldn't breathe. He had never had a reaction to a woman's body before, save for the moment he enjoyed his first Playboy as a thirteen-year-old. This was completely new and more than a little enjoyable. Emmy was his dream girl incarnate, in the flesh, ready for him to do whatever it was he wanted to her. This was a dream, a fantasy, everything he ever wanted right underneath his fingertips.

Her nipples were like soft pink rubies, and he caught one in his mouth because - how could he not? They beckoned him to her like a lighthouse in the dark. His survival depended on going to her. She arched her back up, releasing a moan from between her lips. God, he loved the noises she made. They were genuine and clear and all because of him. He wanted more of them, fixated on them, like an addict needed more of his addiction. With his left hand, he fondled her other breast. It was easy to pick up what pleased her and what didn't.

Jason appreciated how open she was regarding her sexuality. She wasn't afraid to tell him what she liked and what she didn't. She knew herself well enough to know how to communicate her desires to him. She was sensitive to his touch, reacted to his rough skin like a cow to a brand. He didn't realize he could affect someone this way. Not even Stacey was this enthusiastic when they would -

But she was the last person he wanted to think about right now.

Jason was not the sort of guy who was arrogant or overtly confident. He was quiet, usually kept to himself, preferred to watch with his own eyes and listen with his own ears than have to converse with someone who might be trying to manipulate the situation and lie straight to his face. Jason could tolerate a lot but bullshit wasn't one of those things. He didn't make much noise, not during sex, not during the day and only spoke when he had something he needed to say that he seemed important enough to make the effort to speak. It was something Stacey constantly complained about, how he wasn't talkative, how he never complimented her, how he was so quiet it was weird. He was cold, he was distant, he wouldn't talk about his scars, he wouldn't even make noise during sex. Didn't he enjoy it? She just wanted to know he was enjoying it. And then, when he caught her with another man, he distinctly remembered her telling him, "You never talked to me. What did you expect?"

And he lost it.