The Fallen (A Sons of Wrath Prequel) (17 page)

BOOK: The Fallen (A Sons of Wrath Prequel)
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Out of the corner of her eye, Xander seemed to be studying her. Karinna shook herself from her musings and took a bite of the food.

“Mmmm.” She smiled, pretending she hadn’t just divulged a very personal memory with the Reaper—perhaps the only thing he
mightn’t
have known about her.

Xander returned her smile, and Karinna focused on his face. The lines in the corner of his mouth. The way his eyes squinted. His silvery irises that seemed to catch the candlelight and sparkled.

“You …” She cast her gaze down toward her food. “You have a nice smile. You should really show it more often.”

“You should, too.”

An awkward silence followed. Heat stirred beneath her skin, and Karinna realized she’d been bouncing her knee under the table. Intimacy had always been a bitch for her—one trait she’d always envied in Lolita.

The warmth in his eyes intensified when she looked back. “What was she like?” he asked.

“Who?”

“Your sister.”

“Lita was …”. She cleared her throat of an invading dryness and took a sip of the wine sitting in her glass. She dropped her fork and fidgeted. “How long have you been watching me?”

He finished chewing before he leaned back enough to half face her and draped his arm over the his chair. “A while.”

Gaze directed back toward the wineglass, she resisted the urge to flinch at the thought. “She was nothing like me. If ever a person had a true opposite in life, my sister was mine. She was wild. Crazy. Artistic. Madly in love with every guy she ever dated.”

“And you?”

Karinna smirked. “Quiet. Calculated. Logical. Loveless. Everything Lita swore she’d never be in life.” She glanced down at her hands, hesitating to speak the confession dancing across her lips. “She was everything I wished I could be.”

Clearing her throat again did little to hold back the tears forming in her eyes. His hand brushed against her cheek, and when Karinna winced, he reeled it back onto the table beside his plate.

The conversation had dipped into territory she suddenly felt the need to back out of. Fast.

In an act of desperation, Karinna climbed atop the table, still clad in Xander’s white button-down. On hands and knees, she crawled toward him, eyeing the deep inhale of his chest and the slight gape of his mouth that told her the act had excited him.

His hands slipped down and clutched his chair, as she braced her arms on either side of his plate and, dipping her face, picked up a chunk of his food between her teeth.

Xander’s eyes riveted on her mouth, and with a lick of his lips, he took the food, as well as her kiss.

***

The taste of wine on her lips had Xander’s tongue puckering for more. Intoxicating. No more waiting. He stood, pushed the food aside, and laid her back on the table, dragging her to the edge where her core hit right where he needed her. His dick. Her pussy. Right there on the fucking table because, goddamn, he’d waited a long time for it, and a bastard could only take blue balls for so long before he exploded into a sex-raving lunatic.

Toes dug into his sides as he bit her neck, dry fucking her in the same spot he took his morning coffee over reading the morning paper. He’d never wanted to come inside a woman so bad in his life. So beautiful. Her black hair fanned out over the wood in a hot mess, all thick and tangled like they’d warred in the sack all night. Those half-lidded eyes of hers seeming to tell him to unleash his cock and raise hell inside her body.

He wanted to. Christ, his body burned. Scorched with heat she’d stoked inside of him.

Shaking off the demands of his sore nuts, he lifted himself away from her and allowed his brain one brief moment of sanity inside a body torn apart in chaos. Didn’t happen often, and hell if the bastard didn’t suddenly have a good reason to stop what they were doing.

For a moment, Xander thought he’d cracked her open, he’d taken control. Then cold turned to hot when she flipped over and stretched toward him like some kind of lioness out in the wild—one bent on protecting its pride—and all that confidence he had going on turned to shit.

No way he’d give her the reins. She needed to break, and he refused to allow her power of seduction to break him first.

“Finish eating.” The frost in his voice carried a hint of derision, and Karinna’s cheeks flushed as she slipped down from the table into her seat.

He could press her, try to get her to talk about her sister, but doing so might send her straight into defense mode again. Keeping her tempered somewhere between hot and cold seemed to work best.

Even if Melissa Knox wasn’t going to be a problem anymore, even if she wouldn’t be putting the pressure on Ian, driving him to look for that camera, Ian wouldn’t give up the search for a traitor any time soon. After years of being relentlessly hunted, the man had become a relentless hunter himself and, even with the city no longer breathing down his neck, he’d undoubtedly still be out for blood. Xander would have to remain patient to get the information he still needed from Karinna.

He hardly touched his dinner as he watched Karinna finish hers. Every bite entered her mouth like pure seduction. His dick seemed to be enjoying the show, but hell if he’d let the bastard role-play an eating utensil for the night.

Instead, he gripped the arms of the chair and waited out the meal, doing his best not to break the fragile chunks of wood. Once she’d finished, he led her back upstairs to her room and left.

Turned the fuck on, Xander needed to blow off some steam or risk the unthinkable.

***

Hard Limits
had one thing going for it—good liquor. The kind of stuff Xander couldn’t find anywhere else—a guaranteed shit-face for the night.

He pounded the shot of Elysia and signaled Betty the Blonde for another. Woman must’ve had the biggest tits in three counties. They guided her to where Xander leaned into the bar to keep from stumbling backward.

Goddamn Karinna.

Woman left him horny as fuck—a dangerous state for an angel, especially when in a place where scantily clad, oversexed females were a dime a dozen.

Like a rim-shot to his dilemma, a bevy of girls followed behind Sam, the bouncer, like springtime does, hopping through the meadow.

“’The fuck’s goin’ on?” Even he noticed the slur of his voice as his gaze followed the trail of females, one of whom winked at him.

“Auction. Ian’s been out recruiting.” Betty shook her head. “Poor bitches. Think they’re about to become porn stars.” She gave one of her customary high-pitched laughs and walked away.

Xander knew all about
recruiting
. Girls didn’t come willingly. They were promised stuff—film, money, power. In some cases, a girl could be coaxed into an auction just by offering to pay her mortgage for the month. Shitty thing about Detroit—everyone needed something and would do damn near anything to get it.

A whisper in his ear registered just enough for Xander to turn around. A quick once-over showed off her black leather dress and spiked heel stilettos. Fountains of red hair spilled over her shoulder and the curve of her red lips sold her intentions.

“Wanna find a corner?”

Xander grinned at the question. “Have you been bad?”

Her eyelids lowered, tongue tracing those lips, all seductive and inviting. “Very.”

He tipped back the shot and staggered along behind her. At the very least, he could probably get a blowjob out of the night.

In the dark shadows of the hallway leading toward the dungeons, she backed herself against the wall. How many bastards had fucked against the same spot? The patch of wall probably held more cum stains than the motel mattresses down the street.

Xander licked his lips and crowded her body.

“My name’s Val. What’s yours?”

Christ, she looked good, but that voice carried a tone of total buzz kill. “Fuckin’ … don’t talk.”

Her brows furrowed. “Whatever.”

Eyes closed to block out the fact she
wasn’t
Karinna, he licked along her neck, but recoiled at the taste of perfume plastered to her throat. Not even scratching the shit off his tongue got rid of the taste. “’The
thuck
?”

Keeping the bastard tucked inside his mouth, Xander lowered his hands to her breasts. A dinosaur’s fossilized nut-sack would’ve felt softer than her tits. Damn. Like feeling up Rosie the Robot.

“I want to suck you off.” She fell to her knees, tearing into his leathers as if his dick might escape before she got the chance. “I saw you at the bar and …”

Quit talking.

“Your cock—” The zip of his fly springing him instantly loose revealed a little-known fact about Xander—he hated constriction.

Her tongue swept over crimson lips and she opened her mouth, never once taking her attention off his dick as though afraid it might bite her. Warm velvet closed around him, and Xander ran his tongue over his teeth.

Karinna’s face from earlier in the night flashed through his head. Both heads. Her hungry eyes pleading him to take her right there on the dining table curled his fists into tight balls of pure sexual frustration. The kind that made guys punch the shit out of things.

The lips gliding up and down his shaft didn’t do it for him. Only the thought of Karinna. Her hands. Her lips.

Hands covering his ass, face buried in his groin, the female took him to the hilt.

His body hardened, tensed—a cock-bomb ready to explode, but he couldn’t seem to pull the trigger. Palm against her forehead, Xander pushed her away. She’d never get him off, and if she did, it’d only be his fantasies of Karinna catapulting him toward the finish line.

“What’s up?” Smeared lipstick along his shaft almost looked like she ravaged the thing.

Slipping his junk back into his leathers, Xander tried not to laugh at her clown lips. “I made a mistake.”

“The fuck you did, asshole.” She rose up, full of piss and fire. Hard to take her serious with all that red smudged across cheek. Her finger pressed into his chest, tipping him a step off kilter. “I give better head than the bitches up and down eight mile. The. Best.”

“Sure you do.” Xander adjusted himself through the leathers and zipped his pants. “You’re just not
my
best.”

A cold, hard slap met his cheek, and he sniffed, shaking off the crazy urge to slap her back. “Lucky for you, the only cheeks I like to slap on a woman are the ones she sits on.”

She raised her hand again, and Xander caught her arm midair.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you up in other ways. Shake it off. Walk away. Consider this a warning.”

“Whatever whore has you pussy-whipped into thinking she’s got skills—doesn’t even come close.”

Xander smirked. “Ain’t that the fucking truth.”

Red wrenched her arm free and stormed off toward the dungeons, hair bouncing behind her like a wake of flames.

He glanced down at himself and shook his head. “Shit you put me through … I’m about to drop this gig and join the priesthood. Horny bastard.”

Spinning brought Xander round to face the gyrating bodies on the dance floor. Visual rape had him casting his gaze away from the two females molesting each other’s breasts as they danced. On a good day, he might’ve gotten turned on.

Only one set of breasts brought a twitch to his fingertips, though, and Xander sure as hell didn’t plan to let those puppies go untouched.

Enough of this ascetic bullshit.

With a stumble in his walk, he made his way toward the exit.

CHAPTER 16

A throb pounded in Xander’s head. Faint sunlight bled into the room even through the heavy drapes. From beside him, that familiar sweet scent penetrated his senses, and he lifted his head.

Karinna slept sprawled out on his bed, the contortion of her body tugging at the buttons of his shirt, giving an eyeful of her full breasts beneath the cotton. Had he done something with her? A quick peek beneath the covers, where his leathers still kept his dick in check, confirmed he hadn’t, though the already-stiffened bastard wanted to crawl out of his pants to take her as she lay.

He unfastened a button of her shirt.

A flash of gold caught his eye. The thin, delicate necklace peeked from beneath the collar where it draped against Karinna’s collarbone. He lifted it from her skin, the small, solid gold Saint Christopher pendant lying against his fingertips.

“It belonged to my sister.”

Hell if he even felt her stir beneath him.

She glanced downward. “Before she died.” Her eyes squinted, and she seemed to force a swallow. “Can I … get some water?”

Damn, he’d forgotten how much mortals needed certain things to survive.

Without a word, he rose from the bed, strode from the room until he reached the kitchen downstairs. In a tall glass, he dropped ice cubes and poured bottled water on top. Fruit sat in a bowl on the counter—nothing he planned to eat, a whiskey diet suited him just fine. He grabbed an apple and the drink and jogged back up the stairs.

Karinna sat against the pillows, knees pulled up to her chest, offering a nice view of her tiny white panties. Plonking beside her, he lifted the glass to her mouth and allowed her to take a long swill of the drink, focusing on the glisten across her lips. With the glass on the nightstand, Xander yanked the dagger from his holster and cut into the apple.

Her eyes anchored on his as he placed the sliced fruit to her tongue, and his mouth slackened in awe as he watched her chew, the juices coating her lip like a goddamn plea to be sucked and licked clean. After swallowing, she tipped her head back and opened her mouth, offering up her tongue.

Holy fuckin’ gods of hard dicks, watching her eat had the same effect on him as imagining her giving him head. Just like with the first slice, he held the blade to her mouth, dick dancing in his pants as she tongued the non-sharpened side of the knife and took the apple. Instead of chewing, she closed her lips around it and raised a brow.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers, interrupting her sharp intake of breath, before biting down into the apple and taking her kiss along with the fruit.

Dominate. Take. Punish.

He pulled himself away and rubbed his hand across his skull.

“Please … kiss me again.”

His gaze darted back to her.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean—”

Before Xander could make sense of his actions, he cut her words off with another kiss. Warmth flooded him. Some kind of light flashing behind his eyes, as though he’d just unlocked the place where all the deviant parts of him hadn’t yet fucked up.

Knots twisted in his stomach. He pushed against the bed to force himself off her but froze at the sound of approval, the smile that accompanied the tilt of her head into the pillows.

She enjoyed that. Not that he hadn’t, but hell if it didn’t make him teeter a little.

Where had the wildcat gone? The one who wouldn’t go down easy? The one who challenged his dominance?

Part of him yearned to take the whip and beat it out of her again.

He found a better alternative in taking her nipple into his mouth, resisting the urge to bite down, and feathered his tongue against it.

She writhed beneath him, eyes half mast.

Alright. He’d follow the breadcrumbs. If it fucked him up in the end, he’d just have to stick to his rules—fuck what fucks you up.

Tongue gliding along her skin, he explored her body, relished the clean sweetness of her flesh, until at last that perfect pussy lay spread out, beckoning him like a feast of the gods.

His breathing hastened. Sweat beaded down his temple. Saliva pooled inside his mouth.

Her hips undulated beneath him, a seductive dance, calling to him. Damn.

Only took a minute for him to shed his leathers and tossed them to the floor. Shaft in hand, Xander bit back the urge to plow into her like a battering ram bursting through the gates of horny hell.

“Can’t,” he rasped.

“I want … I want you.”

Damn the female. Damn her.

Anger swelled inside of him.
Fallen
.
Hunted
. Did he want to be one of them?

He glanced up at Karinna. Lust plastered to her face. That scent coming off of her like an intoxicating ambrosia. 

Tip positioned at her core, Xander bit the inside of his cheek and entered her slowly, stomach tight, teeth gritted.
Holy fuck
, he was about to kiss his sore nuts goodbye.

The warmth of her tight walls sucked him in, and he hissed as they clamped around his dick.

“Ah, yes,” Karinna’s whisper and their heavy breaths filled the quiet room.

In one impulsive rush, he pulled out, immediately longing to plunge back inside.

She buried her face in her raised arm. Waiting.

Need more.

He entered her again, nearly buckling on top of her. “Fuck!” All gnashing teeth and ready to hammer those delicate thighs, he pulled out again.

Shivers rapped at his spine and had his stomach tight at the slow and merciless pace that left him clinging to a thread of control.

“Please,” she begged. “Please, more.”

Fuckin’ A.

A deep thrust to the hilt ricocheted to the back of his skull, and his hips followed orders, jack-hammering at the same beat as a newly oiled machine. “God. Dammit.” In and out, he pumped, mentally giving thanks to the goddess of tight pussy. “Damn you, Karinna,” He rested his forehead against her shoulder, teeth grinding into his skull. “Oh, fuck, baby, you feel so tight.”

Her snug walls welcomed his swelled cock. Xander couldn’t stop if he wanted to. Every slam against that sweet little body pushed away his thoughts of duty, of laws.

Of sanity.

Pleasure—a dark, wicked place from where he never wanted to return—grabbed hold of him, pulling him into the depths of sheer madness. Part of him wanted to destroy her, tear that taunting body apart and savor the aftermath of her surrender. He needed her to shatter, break, fracture into a million pieces that he could puzzle, piece back together, and demolish again and again.

“I need to feel this.”  Fingers curled into her hair, he tightened his fist.  “I need you, Karinna.”

The other part of him wanted to bring her to climax, one that he’d given—make her feel so fucking good, she’d lose consciousness and slip into a cum-rapturous coma.

“Dirty fucking girl,” he whispered, hoisted up onto his elbows, face buried in her neck. His heaving breaths bounced off her skin and tickled his lips. “You’re my dirty fucking girl, aren’t you?”

“Xander, you’re so … good. I can’t … I need …” Breathless, slurry words, as if her brain couldn’t process
what
the hell she needed, ratcheted his sex engines up a notch.

Fuck, the feeling was mutual. The Jaws of Life couldn’t pry his dick out of her at that point, as her cries stroked his already-heightened lust and pushed him to finish.

“Fucking come for me,” he growled.

Sweat coated her neck and collarbone. Hips railing into her, he bent forward and licked her skin, taking in sweet and salty.

“I’m … I’m … I’m gonna—oh, God …” Her nails dug into his back.

Fuck, yes
. He upped the pace.
Need to feel this. Need to know.
Fire burned inside his muscles.
Hot. So hot.

“Xander!” She cried out, sending him soaring over the edge.

A string of curses flew from his mouth and her hair bunched in his clamped fist, as he pulled out in time to let the warm jet of seed spill across her stomach and breasts.

He tipped his head back, hips still bucking, cock still rocking in seminal celebration.
Sheer fucking bliss
. Never felt anything like it before. He couldn’t bring himself to move. Wanted to stay against her body.

More.

His muscles tingled. Balls heavy. Aching. Craving. The insatiable hunger returned. He rubbed her crown, knotting long tendrils of her hair into his fist. “I was gentle, wasn’t I? Wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

He groaned with the anguish of lust burning inside of him once again—as if an endless vacuum had been breached and couldn’t possibly be sated. “Tonight, though … tonight, I’ll fuck you mercilessly, Pet.”

Still lumbering from weakness, he released her hair. Rising to his knees, he flipped her onto her stomach, angling her ass in the air while his fingers slid down along her belly and across her clit. “Forgive me, but tonight I’ll take from you until your body has nothing left.” Xander licked the sweat across her back and smiled when she flinched as he bit her ass. “Then I’m gonna fuck you again.”

He plunged himself inside of her, and at her outcry, the monster surfaced.

BOOK: The Fallen (A Sons of Wrath Prequel)
11.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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