Crave (3 page)

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Authors: Ayden K. Morgen

BOOK: Crave
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Her hair's a binding rope around my hand.

Still, I want more.

I tilt her head back further and bite the side of her neck, scraping my teeth along the tendons, pulling a cry from her lips. I splay my other hand across her stomach and inch lower until I bury my fingers in her pussy again, rubbing her clit with the palm of my hand, feeling my cock bump against my fingers with every deep thrust into her.

The sight of my golden skin against her pale stomach rips through me – obliterating everything by the way she feels around me. I work her furiously. Fucking her, Rubbing her. Tugging at her hair and biting her neck as the beast inside roars for her and more of what she does to us.

"More, more, more," Trinity pants as if in harmony with that rabid, primal animal, her breath coming in gasps.

"I'll give you more," I whisper in her ear.

Until she leaves again, everything I have is hers for the taking. Whatever she wants.

She cries out at my promise, her body clenching around me as I drive her toward completion again. And that response – the way she feels coiled tightly around me, like she fits me perfectly – drives me on, too.

Everything slows for a moment, each pleasured sob from her lips lingering in the air longer than the last. Blood pumps through my veins slower. The heat crackling around us presses in closer, as if we're the only people who exist. I commit each feeling to memory, storing them for the days when she isn't here.

My name falls from her lips as she explodes around me again, her muscles clamping down tight on my cock as she comes in a rush. And I can't hold off any longer.

I cry out her name and come hard, my mouth at her ear as I hold her tightly against me, supporting her. Sound, sight… everything disappears in a roar of white as the beast inside explodes outward. My fingers elongate, my muscles scream as they're briefly torn apart and put back together again. The beast growls triumphantly before crawling back into his cage, ceding control to me again. I groan my way through the partial change, marveling at the quiet left in that violent eruption's wake. It's peace. Acceptance. Something only Trinity gives me... gives us.

She collapses to the bed beneath me and I follow her down, rolling onto my side so I don't crush her with my weight. She hums when I drag her body back against mine, not willing to be without her touch just yet.

"Stay with me this time," I whisper, nuzzling my face into her neck when she burrows into the nest my arms provide.

She sighs, but doesn't answer.

We both know there's nothing to say. I shouldn't have said the words at all.

When the moment's gone and I have to don my armor again – when duty and obligation force me to put it all back on – I'll want her far away again, as far as I can get her to keep her safe. My world is dark and violent, full of blood and mayhem. There's a target on my back, and I can't condemn her to live with one on hers, too. Until I find my way out of this shit once and for all... she can't stay with me.

We have moments like this, a few stolen hours. And it's not enough.

I want out so goddamn bad I can taste it.

Want her so goddamn bad it hurts.

How much longer can we keep this up?

Days? Weeks?

"You're thinking again," Trinity whispers, turning in my arms. She lifts her hand, tracing the furrow of my brow.

I grab her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingertips.

"My father's still looking for you."

"Yeah?" I arch a brow, unsurprised. The son of a bitch has been looking for me for months, ever since I stole her away from him. Hasn't found me yet, though.

"Do you think he knows?"

"Knows?"

"About this… about us." Trinity holds my gaze, worry in her green eyes. "About the things I let you do to me."

I offer her a smile, trying to ease her mind. I'm sure he knows, but I don't tell her that. "I think he'd have killed us both already if he knew," I say.

"Good." She pauses, her bottom lip between her teeth before she exhales. "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," I promise instantly, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Anything?"

I nod, reaching out to cup her breast.

Hatred flares in her eyes, turning them a hard green. "Kill the bastard, Trey."

I freeze, barely breathing, my mind racing as I examine her face, searching for… something. Some hint that she's joking.

She isn't.

Her expression is dead serious.

"You're sure?" I ask, fighting to stay calm.

Trinity nods. "I'm sick of this war, aren’t you?"

God, yes, I'm sick of it and all the bullshit that comes with it. Sick of being forced into the shadows by some prick who hates my kind simply because we exist. By the son of a bitch who'd rather kill his own daughter than admit she's damn close to being Lycan herself. By the bastard who would tear the city apart to get his hands around my throat. The one whose hands are stained with the blood of my people.

"Then kill him," she murmurs, scooting closer to me. "End it so we can be together. So your people are safe."

"Yeah? You really want this?"

Trinity's quiet for a moment, and then, "I want you. And he'll never stop trying to find you – trying to find us – if you don't. I'm tired of hiding."

"I'm tired of you hiding."

"Then kill him and end this. Set us free."

Freedom.

I exhale slowly. The beast inside roars at the thought of freedom. For all three of us.

How long's it been since we've had that? Three years? Four?

I don't even know anymore.

I press my lips to Trinity's forehead, my heart racing at the thought of setting her free from that bastard once and for all. "I'll do it," I promise, hands sliding down her body again. "For you."

"No." Trinity shakes her head, reaching behind her to wrap her fingers around my cock. "For us."

I smile, giving in to the craving stirring inside of me. For her… and for her father's blood.

 

Coming November 1, 2014 from Ayden K. Morgen

 

ALL FALLS DOWN

 

Soft music drifts through the room – quiet, ambient. Expensive crystal clinks, one glass against another. Strains of conversation and laughter mingle in the perfumed air. It's warm… too warm.

I swallow convulsively. Take a deep breath.

You can do this
, I chant to myself. It's become my motto in the last few days, playing like a single verse of song stuck on repeat. Sometimes, I actually believe it.

I don't right now.

My stomach feels sour, my throat too tight. The expensive heels I've donned are stuck to the floor as if made of lead. I feel like a fraud. An imposter.

I want to run.

I coach myself to smile instead. Smile… just smile. My cheeks ache, my lips pulled back from my teeth in a show of faux-happiness. Inside, I'm crying. Screaming. Dying.

Movement across the room catches my attention and freezes my blood.

A shock of dark blond hair. Broad shoulders encased in expensive black silk.

My stomach somersaults, drops, and then somersaults again.

Heads turn in his direction. I'm so focused on him, I barely notice the way conversation stalls all around me. His eyes – the coolest green jade – don't even shift in my direction.

I want to scream at him like the Whos in Whoville screaming for their lives while their little world is forced closer to destruction:
I'm here! I'm here!

I don't make a sound.

My eyes travel down his form. I ache. Burn. Remember….

"
I want you to remember something for me," he whispers, staring into my eyes. He reaches out to stroke my cheekbones, his fingers gentle against my face. "Can you do that for me, love?"

Words fail so I nod.

"
I want you to remember that it's you. It's only ever been you. Forever." He kisses me softly. "Can you do that for me? Can you remember that, Savannah?"

"
Jared

" His name is a pitiful sob as I throw myself into his arms. Tears pour down my face.

"
Beautiful girl," he chastises, gathering me up against his strong chest. "I love you. No matter what, I love you."

I bite my lip against the cry of protest rising in my throat when he tilts his head to the side, forcing
her
into my line of sight.

Her….

With her perfect blonde hair and brilliant smile.

Her with her sultry laugh and womanly curves.

Her. And him. Together.

I bite my lip harder. A new ache begins in my chest, where my heart used to be.

Her eyes flit around the room, widen slightly when they fall on me, and then drift away again. Her head tilts toward his. His dips lower. Perfect red lips form words against the shell of his ear… words I can't hear.

They stab like a knife in my chest anyway.

He lifts his head, looks… sees me.

My motto shifts.
Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

The
champagne flute shakes in my hands when searing green tangles for a brief moment with my own dull brown. His eyes strip me bare, set me adrift, and unmake me. For just a minute as he stares at me, everything is right. I'm whole, safe, and loved. And then his gaze moves away again and I feel none of those things. I feel afraid, confused, and lost. So lost.

His next move doesn't help.

No
, I want to cry out to him when he straightens and they start in my direction, each step matched perfection. I say nothing instead. I'm frozen solid… thought, preservation, and instinct completely wiped away.

They walk toward me, moving so slowly I feel like I'm watching an impending train wreck, unable to do a single thing to prevent it from happening. I want to lift my skirt into my hands and flee into the night. Flee until my lungs explode, my heart stops, and this sight – Her. Him. Together. – is burned from my memory. But I can't.

I stand completely still instead.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this
, becomes my third motto of the night.

The champagne in my flute sloshes around. A droplet runs down my hand, sticky, messy, like the last time we were together.

 

You can read the entire Prologue to
ALL FALLS DOWN
at
http://aydenmorgen.com
.

About the Author

 

Ayden lives in the heart of Arkansas with her childhood sweetheart and husband of ten years, and their five furry minions. When not writing, she spends her time hiking, reading, volunteering, causing mischief, and building a Spork army. Ayden graduated summa cum laude with her Bachelor of Science degree in Criminal Justice and Forensic Psychology in 2009 before going on to complete her graduate degree in CJ and Law. She currently puts her education to use in the social services field.

Ayden also writes New and Young Adult fiction under the penname A.K. Morgen.

You can learn more Ayden at
http://aydenmorgen.com
or by following her on Twitter
@AKMorgen
.

 

 

 

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