Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (97 page)

“You mean like mercenaries?”

“Yes.” The finality in his tone told her he was done discussing the subject.

He continued massaging her neck and shoulders, finding the knots and working them out. Jeez, it felt good. Too good, she thought as she imagined his hands on other parts of her body.

“You’re not put off by someone with a Talent,” she said. “Why is that? Does that mean
you
have one?”

His hands stilled on her shoulders. She started to crane her neck around to see his expression, but he pointed to a bookshelf in front of her. A book moved. And then another.

She jumped. “Oh my God, you did that? That is so cool!” She twisted around, looking up into his magnetic gray eyes. “Why didn’t you do that earlier when we were cleaning up?”

A corner of his mouth turned up. “I didn’t want to freak you out. Plus, I try not to use it too much. I’m sure you understand.”

Yes. She knew exactly what he meant.

“Speaking of Talents…” Something glinted in his eye. “Say I'm a customer in your shop. I come back here, sit down and—” He held out his hands. “Do you read my palm? My tea leaves?”

“Not exactly.” She shifted and took his hand, flattening out his long, calloused fingers. “Please keep in mind that I’m not that good.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile. She thought for a moment, then tilted her head and concentrated, feeling the energy sizzling down her arm.

His brows knit together, then he burst into laughter, a deep rumbling sound that had her laughing as well. “Did you just implant the thought that I want a brownie?”

“Yep.”

“I thought so. I can practically smell it.” He let out a low whistle. “Ye could play some mean-ass practical jokes on folks.”

“Well, I can't do anything beyond simple suggestions of things that already appeal to you. Unlike Becca, who can get people to imagine all sorts of things. That's how our parents found out about us, actually.” She paused, thinking back to that horrible time. “We were at a youth retreat up in the San Juans with some high school friends. There was alcohol. Becca and I— Well, it was my stupid idea. We ended up doing some things we shouldn't have, which exposed both of us.”

She let out a controlled breath. What a nightmare it had been. The fights, the yelling. The therapy. As if being a Talent meant you had mental issues.

He slipped his fingers between hers and caressed her knuckles with his thumbs. There he was again. Sensing her stress and doing something to alleviate it. His touch was simple yet extremely intimate, and it sent molten heat straight to her core.

She bit her lip, trying to quell the need rising in her body.

He continued to stroke the delicate skin on the back of her hands. “So the question is, do you have any brownies? For some crazy reason, I’ve got a craving for them.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I’m afraid not.”

“Seriously?” He pulled her onto his lap, and she let out a surprised laugh. With her hands resting on his shoulders, she was sitting eye to eye with him. And straddling his legs.

His broad hands splayed over the curve of her hips, and something devious lit up behind his eyes. It both thrilled and excited her, and she found herself wanting to see just how naughty he could be.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, as if he had read her thoughts. “You have the nerve to implant a brownie craving into my head, but you don’t have any?”

“I might have some chocolate chips.” Lame, yes, but she wanted to come up short, just to get his reaction.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked with mock outrage.

“Why? Are you frustrated now?”

“Very frustrated. And it’s completely your fault.”

She had her hands on his shoulders, breasts not far from his face as she waited in anticipation.

“And now, Kitten, I’m afraid you must pay the price.”

He gripped her hipbones in her most ticklish spot and dug in his thumbs. Shrieking with laughter, she tried to push away from him. She bucked her hips and arched her back, but he was too strong and too determined to keep her right were she was.

Which, if she were being honest with herself, was exactly what she wanted. She was wildly attracted to his man.

When she felt the steel rod of his erection pressing up against her core, he stopped tickling her.

They were both breathing hard. Some of his raven hair had slipped from the knot at his nape, and dark need reflected in his eyes. She imagined she had the same look in her eyes. She wanted him. So damn bad.

He possessively gripped the back of her neck and brazenly ran his other hand over her breast, sending shivers down her spine.

His nostrils flared slightly. “Ye’ve been a very bad girl.”

Toryn knew he was going to have a hard time controlling himself. Every fiber of his being thrummed with the need to possess her. To mark her as his own. The first night when they kissed, he’d been so shocked by the whole thing that he simply went along for the ride. A very enjoyable ride, but it had not been one of his making.

This time, however, he was the one in control. And he intended to make the most of it.

He pulled Keely to him and his mouth crashed over hers. With his tongue pressing along the seam of her lips, she opened for him, eager and welcoming, just like he knew she would. She tasted sweet, like strawberry wine, and purely female.

He slid his hands over her luscious curves, enjoying how her supple flesh yielded to his touch. He tugged off her shirt to reveal a lacy black bra with a tiny red bow on each wide strap. And when he peeled off her jeans, he found a matching set of panties.

The soft, creamy skin of her cleavage bounced and flattened against his chest as he unhooked her bra and removed it. Cupping her voluptuous breasts in his hands, he grew even harder. She seemed to sense it too because she ground her hips against him.

“So beautiful.” He dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth while teasing the other into a hard nub with his thumb.

She hissed and arched into him, then gave a soft kittenish mewl that drove him even more insane. His erection strained painfully under his clothes, but he continued to suckle and flick her with his tongue.

“Oh God, Toryn. Please…” She fumbled with his belt buckle and slipped a hand into his pants, her cool fingers closing around his length.

He groaned at her touch, needed to be inside her.

He stripped off her panties, shoved the books aside and lifted her onto the table.

“Toryn, my books.”

“We’re not going to hurt the blasted books,” he growled.

He grabbed a condom from his wallet and quickly sheathed himself, then he spread her knees and stepped closer. His balls felt heavy against his upper thigh as he slipped two fingers past her pink folds and found her slick and ready for him. He wiggled his thumb against her clit and she cried out, her inner muscles clamping around his fingers.

Was she on the verge of an orgasm already? Curious to see how responsive she was to him, he leaned over her, drew a nipple into his mouth, then curled his two fingers and stroked deep inside.

Her whole body trembled and tightened. He kept pressing, stroking, licking, bringing her higher and higher. She cried out his name, her climax crashing over her. He stilled his hand, though he didn’t withdraw it, and watched as she came undone around him.

***

Keely’s breath came out in short, needy gasps as she clutched the edge of the library table. She’d literally just had the best orgasm of her life, and from the looks of it, she was going to have another.

A few minutes ago, when she first laid eyes on his impressive male form jutting out at her, she’d felt a rush of liquid heat between her legs. He’d been very pleased at how easily she’d come for him then, and now he was ready for round two.

Toryn gripped the base of his latex-covered cock. “Kitten, spread your legs wider for me,” he rasped, expecting her to do as he said.

She had no idea how he’d come up with that nickname, but she did as she was told.

“Yes, that’s it,” he said, his eyes dark with desire as he stared at her sex. “Perfect.”

She was surprised at how good his praise made her feel. She was independent, accustomed to being the one in control, but oddly enough, although she was submitting to him, she felt even stronger, more powerful.

Almost immediately, she felt the blunt head of him slip past her folds. She held her breath, waiting for his hard thrust and hoping it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable at first, but the edge of the table restricted his movements. Gripping her hips, he lifted her up and slid her slowly onto this thick girth instead.

“Holy Fates, Kitten,” he said through clenched teeth. “Ye are so bloody tight. I’m afraid I am not going to last very long.”

“Me either. You feel so good inside me.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. She could tell this pleased him immensely.

Buried all the way to the hilt, their pubic bones touching, he remained still for a moment to give her body a chance to get used to him inside her. He nuzzled her neck, caressed her breasts.

Up until now, she really hadn’t been into sex. Couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about, actually. She’d had a few boyfriends, had a few orgasms, but they hadn’t been anything special. The boyfriends
or
the orgasms. They were nothing she couldn’t accomplish on her own—without any of the accompanying hassle.

But this?

Now she was starting to understand. She just hadn’t been with the right partner, one who cared about her pleasure before his. It wasn’t like her to have sex with someone she just met, but something about him called to her on a deeper level. She’d felt so lonely for such a long time. An outcast. But Toryn seemed to understand her and made her feel as if she finally belonged.

He braced a hand behind her on the table and began rolling his hips, sliding his iron-hard erection back and forth against her highly sensitized clit. She was vaguely aware that a book had fallen to the floor, but at this point, she didn’t care. She arched into him as a delicious heat surged through her like wildfire, starting at the tips of her fingers and toes, working its way inward until all the focus was on where they were joined.

He felt so good there, his cock thick and demanding inside her, awakening a raw, savage need that she never knew existed. She clung to his shoulders, her hips meeting each of his powerful thrusts.

“You’re so tight around me,” he said, his voice ragged with desire. “I can feel how close you are. Let go, Keely. Can you do that? It’s time for me to take over.”

Let him take over.

Four simple words.

With everything in her life spiraling out of control, being with Toryn was like holding onto a rock. A lifeline. She felt safe with him. Protected.

And she didn’t want it to end.

“Okay,” she whispered, “take over for me, Toryn.”

He let out a low, possessive growl. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he pulled her head back and kissed her hard, with a passion she’d never experienced before.    

She dug her nails into his back, wanting to put her mark on him.

Then she cried out his name for the second time as a huge climax splintered through her.

“That’s it, Kitten. That’s it.”

His next thrust went even deeper, demanding access to every part of her.

He groaned, his whole body shuddering. She felt him pulse over and over inside her, intensifying her pleasure even further. If not for the condom, he would’ve filled her to the brim with his potent seed. Her inner muscles clamped down on him, holding him there, uniting them together.

Davin Reaux didn’t like to be disappointed.

Not by his friends. Not by his business associates. And certainly not by the people who worked for him. He glanced at the champagne glass on the adjacent table and could feel his anger rising.

How hard was it to keep the damn thing filled?

He cleared his throat to get someone’s attention. The blonde between his legs stopped what she was doing and looked up.

“Not you, sweetheart. Keep going.” He patted her head and she continued.

A brunette—a girl named Cheryl, he believed—was over near the window. She hurriedly wiped the blow from her nose. “What can I get you?” she called.

He ground his teeth together. “First of all, come over here when you’re speaking to me. No one likes to hear someone yell across the room.”

“Oh yeah, right.” She rose and sauntered over.

He’d let the
yeah
slide…for now. There were too many other things to work on at the moment. “And second of all, this isn’t a fast food restaurant.” He cocked his head expectantly.

She blinked a few times, looking flustered, then it dawned on her. “I…I’m sorry. How may I be of assistance…
sir
?

“There you go. See how much better that sounds?” He raised his brows and waited for her to agree with him. “The clients like that. It tells them that your sole purpose is to serve their needs, whatever they may be.”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

“Now, can you tell me what’s wrong here?”

She looked down at the girl. “Is she not doing it right?”

“No, that’s not it. Keep looking.”

She scanned the table. “I…I don’t know, sir.”

Did she have the IQ of an ameba? But she was cover model beautiful and that was what mattered the most. “Look at the glass.”

“Oh my goodness,” she said, her eyes widening. “The glass. I’ll fill it right away, sir. Was that the Cristal?”

He gripped the armrests to keep from slapping her across the face. It wouldn’t be good to present a bruised girl to the clients.
Of course he’d been drinking the fucking Cristal
. And if she were in tune with his needs, she would’ve remembered.

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back and tried to relax, pay attention to the sweet thing between his legs. He was semi-hard at best and probably wouldn’t ejaculate, but it still felt better than not having a blowjob.

There was a knock on the door.

He let out a long sigh. “That's enough,” he said to the girl with his dick in her mouth. He pointed to the drug-laden table near the window. “Go help yourself now.”