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Until now.
Which makes me think that even though what I’m feeling for Frankie is strong, there’s no way it can be love because there isn’t a damn thing clean or pure about the thoughts I have involving her. Nothing angelic about the things I dream day and night about doing to her. In fact, my feelings toward her are sending me more into the darkness than the light. More toward Hell than Heaven.
She’s not an angel here to guide me toward a better path; she’s a demon like me, here on Earth to do God only knows what. What she has done is make me feel like I’ve lost my fucking mind because around her I don’t feel…wrong.
The things I’ve done to her. The things I’ve done WITH her. If each person is only given a certain amount of feelings, of love, then there’s no way she could feel the same because there’s no way I’d let her waste it on me.
All thoughts about how we don’t fit together are put on pause because Frankie’s eyes are wide as she looks me over.
“The blood,” I realize. I turn to head toward the bathroom to grab a towel, but she reaches out a hand, stopping me.
The energy in the room shifts like someone’s left a torn wire in an open puddle. Frankie gives me a look, silently asking if I can feel it, too. I give her a small nod because it’s all I can manage.
My words have left me along with the air in my lungs. Frankie’s hair is tangled. Her long lashes touching her cheeks.
She shakes her head. “Don’t go clean up. Not yet.”
I’m rock fucking hard for her. Throbbing. Aching. Not just my cock. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting her again. My fingers twitch at the anticipation of touching the nakedness beneath her t-shirt.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“I want you. Just as you are. Bloody, beautiful, Smoke.”
“My little hellion,” I growl.
We crash into one another in the center of the room. I feel pressure at my back as if we’re being pushed together by a force bigger than ourselves. Just two pawns in a game that’s no longer about life and death. It’s bigger and more complicated and more…everything.
Frankie pulls back as if she can read my thoughts and stares up at me for a beat before closing her eyes. She sucks in a breath, and I’m lost. To us. To her. Those eyes. That shiny black hair. Those soft fuckable lips. Her mouth is calling to me once again, and Lord fucking help anyone who tries to get in the way of me answering.
She doesn’t want me clean. Frankie wants me dirty. Real.
And I want her.
Any way I can fucking have her.
She belongs to me.
Frankie Helburn is mine.
She isn’t under my skin. She’s fucking torched it. My flesh burns for her. She’s the flame and the balm, both painful and soothing. I want more of her.
All of her.
She owns me. Body. Soul. Bloody hands, along with whatever the fuck is left of my heart. It’s hers. All of it.
I’m not just obsessed or consumed by Frankie Helburn.
I lift her into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist and our lips crash together.
She’s part of me.
Frankie
Our teeth clank together as he lifts me in his arms and tosses me down on the bed. He rids himself of his clothes and mine, revealing his thick, swollen cock that bobs against his belly button as he pulls me to the edge of the mattress and devours my lips and neck with his tongue, nipping at my earlobe with his teeth. He trails down my jaw, and I can’t help but lift my hips and rock into the air. I need to feel him. In me, around me. I need him to show me that I’m his, now more than ever because Smoke doesn’t know that tomorrow, everything is going to change, and I selfishly need this. Need him. I need to be his tonight because by the time the sun’s first rays hit the ground, I’ll be gone.
I’ve already arranged everything with Rage and Nine. Griff won’t stop until he gets to me, and he’ll kill anyone and everyone in the process.
I’m going to give Griff what he wants.
Me.
And in the process I hope to give Smoke back a piece of himself. A piece he doesn’t even know he’s missing yet.
But right now, it’s just me and the bloodied, beautiful man before me.
Smoke bites the inside of my thigh, then crawls up my body, lacing his fingers through my hair and yanking to expose my neck to him. He kisses and sucks on the sensitive skin behind my ear, and I feel a buzzing in my nipples and pussy. Awareness. Pleasure. Anticipation. His hard heat brushes up against my wet folds, and I buck up off the bed. My core painfully empty and clenching.
“Please,” I beg.
Smoke growls against my skin then pulls back for a moment to look me in the eyes and press a hard kiss to my mouth. A deep kiss. A kiss that both apologizes and makes no apologies. A kiss that makes me feel alive. Special.
I am loved by him in a way that no one else on the planet could ever love me.
He pulls back to hover over me, bracing himself on both sides of my head on the bed. His biceps and forearms flex with his every movement. His tattoos dance as he lowers himself down my body, lines his cock up with my already painfully ready pussy and pushes in with a groan that sounds like the love-child of love and lust.
I meet him stroke for hard stroke. Lifting my hips, pulling him closer. For a long time, we just stare in each other’s eyes until Smoke tries to speak.
“I… I want you to know,” he says, before growing frustrated and stopping.
“I know,” I tell him, feeling a tear fall down my cheek. “I know.”
Smoke picks up his pace, pounding into me harder and harder. Faster and faster. He’s giving me everything he’s got, and although he thinks it’s not much to me, it’s everything. He’s everything.
Smoke’s powerful. And I don’t just mean in his sculpted muscles. I mean powerful in mind. Spirit.
He may be a monster, but he’s mymonster.
I feel the pressure mounting in my core and see the chords of Smoke’s neck pull tight. He’s close, and so am I.
So very close.
“You’re mine.” His nostrils flare as he picks up his pace, hammering hard into me until I see stars. “You’re mine,” he says louder, pushing even faster and harder, and I realize he’s trying to fuck those words into me.
“Yes,” I pant as my orgasm takes over and pushes through my body like a cannon shot. I’m writhing underneath him as pulse after pulse of pleasure like I’ve never felt explodes from my every nerve ending until I can see only white behind my eyes.
Smoke grunts, holding my hips in place while he pounds into me a few more times before roughly grabbing my face and forcing me to look him in the eye.
“Mine.” His voice falls to a whisper, and he closes his eyes. “Always mine.”
The orgasm continues to tear me apart limb from limb. I welcome it. Never in my life have I ever wanted so badly to be in pieces. I want to be scattered on the wind like ashes, so small and so many I can’t ever be put back together.
Smoke has both broken and healed me. I’m shattered, and I’m complete. I’m so in love, and I’m scared out of my fucking mind, but that won’t change what I must do.
