Page 36

M y feet move backward until my back hits the wall. A sheepish smile is on my face, though it falters slightly once I notice Cove’s state. He’s bleeding, but luckily it doesn’t seem too serious. He’s looking at me like he is desperately trying to calm himself, a hint of worry slipping past the otherwise stoic expression.

“You were against me leaving, but you must’ve known that I would eventually go after Wyatt myself, right?”

Cove’s eyes dart to the floor, to Wyatt’s unconscious body. He starts walking toward him, fury on his face. With a panicked expression, I grab Cove by the elbow, but he shakes me off easily. My chest starts to tighten, uneasiness overwhelming me.

“Cove, no,’’ I warned him, desperation in my voice. “Please, don’t hurt him.’’

His shoulders go rigid. Slowly, he turns around to face me, and I have to swallow harshly, stepping back. I’m not scared of Cove. I know that even in his worst state, he won’t hurt me. I’m scared that he won’t be able to hold himself back, that the anger he feels toward Wyatt will overpower the love he has for me.

Cove’s jaw is tightly clenched, his fingers twitching by his side. He wants to feel Wyatt’s blood on himself, and I don’t blame him. I want that, too. It’s just not the right time to try and do that. When Wyatt dies, I’ll make sure he suffers. I’ll make sure he knows exactly why I killed him and where he’ll end up.

“Bunny,’’ Cove’s voice drops to a low whisper, stepping dangerously close to me. “You are one insufferable woman, you know that, right? All of this could be over if you just let me handle him.’’

With a shaky breath and unsteady hands, I close the distance between us, getting on my tippy toes and cupping his cheeks. His eyes don’t leave mine, and he lets me touch him. However, he doesn’t do much more. He just stands there, trembling in silent anger, and waits for my next move.

“I know,’’ I whisper. “I know you want to see him die. I want it as well. But this isn’t how I want his life to end, and you know it. If you take this away from me, you’ll hate yourself for the rest of your life.’’

“And you?” His question is expected. Hell, I already know the answer.

“Yeah, I’ll hate you, too,’’ I admit in a lower voice.

Cove takes in a couple of deep breaths, his hands coming to rest on top of mine whilst cupping his face. The struggle to put his emotions into words is there, and I don’t push him. Instead, I watch his mouth open and close a few times, then he releases another deep sigh, closing his eyes momentarily.

“I’m sorry,’’ he mutters.

My lips twitch, threatening to break into a smile. He’s grumpy, almost pouting, and it’s one of the cutest expressions I’ve seen on his face since I’ve known him. He notices the amusement on my face and growls in response, brows narrowed.

“Don’t laugh at me.’’

“I’m not.’’

“You’re about to.’’

“I am.’’

Without saying a word, his hands come to my sides, and he picks me up. My legs wrap around his torso, my arms locked behind his neck as I snuggle into the crook of his neck. He glances at Wyatt one last time before leaving the basement.

Once we reach the top of the stairs, his hands tighten around my thighs, and I lift my head from his shoulder. A shudder runs through me, my eyes scanning the area.

Arlo’s in the corner, on the phone. I meet his gaze, and a visible sigh of relief slips from him, and he nods at me, then goes back to his conversation. Every single person in here is dead. Some were killed by Arlo, given his little signature.

The rest, however, were dealt with by James. I’m not squeamish, nor do I flinch at the sight of blood, mutilated bodies, and corpses. But this? It’s a whole other level, further proving that Rose is dating a psychopath.

Maybe I should’ve left him locked up.

Cove steps outside, and I curl up against him more. The fresh, cold air hits me alongside the rain droplets. As he takes me to the car, the rain starts pouring harder, drenching both of us. He gently puts me in the passenger seat and quickly gets behind the wheel.

The first couple of minutes of the ride are eerily silent. Cove’s not even looking at me, and although I managed to soothe most of his anger, I can smell the remains of it in the air. He lowers one window slightly, then pops a cigarette in his mouth, the cloud of smoke leaving through the small gap.

Cove’s not a constant smoker. He always has a pack on him, and a lighter, but he’s not addicted to nicotine. Instead, he uses it when he’s desperate to focus on something else rather than his anger. His temper is unpredictable.

I remember that once, during a night out, a man accidentally bumped into Cove at a club. Unfortunately for the said man, Cove was already in a terrible mood. It took six people to pry Cove off the poor man, and he’s been banned from the specific club ever since.

“Cove,’’ I softened my voice to not startle him. “Are you alright?”

A bitter laugh reverberates through the car, and he takes a long drag of the cigarette. He exhales the nicotine slowly, then gives me a quick glance before focusing his eyes back on the road, his hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white.

“You’re asking if I’m alright? Aria, he could’ve hurt you,’’ he pauses. “and he fucking did!’’

My hand reaches up to touch my cheek. It’s not too bad — it won’t swell or leave a bruise, but the skin is still red from the impact, and it will stay like that for the rest of the night.

“I’m okay.’’

“No, you’re not okay,’’ Cove snaps. “I’m not okay! Do you know what was going through my head when Blair called Arlo to tell him you disappeared? Do you know how fucking anxious and terrified I was while we were speeding through the traffic? Aria, you’re a magnet for fucking trouble, and I can’t protect you unless you stop acting so stupid!”

“Whatever gave you the impression I want or need your protection?”

Cove’s jaw tenses, and he pulls over to the side of the road, parking the car and ignoring the honking of other people driving by at his sudden pause. He shifts to look at me, eyes wide with anger. He takes one last drag of the cigarette before putting it out and tossing it out the window.

“I don’t give a fuck, Aria. I will protect you. I don’t care if you want or need it. I’m of no use to you otherwise!”

“I’m not with you just because you can protect me, Cove. You have to know that.’’

“It doesn’t matter! It’s my job to protect you, to take care of you, and to love you. This is my final warning — either let me or I will do it, regardless of what you say or do. I will lock you up somewhere far, far away, and you’ll never see the light of day again! Fuck!” He slams his head against the steering wheel.

Silence surrounds us, and I struggle to find the words to give a snarky retort. Then, my mouth closes when I hear just how soft and vulnerable his voice becomes.

“You’re all I have, Aria. I can’t lose you. Please, let me take care of you.’’

“Look at me, Cove.’’

He hesitantly raises his head off the steering wheel, and if the situation weren’t this emotional, I’d laugh at the sight of the red spot on his forehead from the harsh slam he did a moment ago. Instead, I kissed him.

He doesn’t waste any time kissing me back.

Cove pours all of his frustrations, fears, and anxiety into the kiss, and no matter how much I’d like to, I can’t match it. His lips move harshly against mine, swallowing every little moan and whimper, that I don’t hold back.

His hand sneaks around my waist, and I release a small squeal as he pulls me to sit on his lap. Nothing can be heard except the pouring rain and our lips molding together. His fingertips roam my lower back, sliding under the shirt and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Cove wraps his free hand around my throat, tilting my head to the side and deepening the kiss. The taste of nicotine lingers on his tongue, and I’m surprised at how addictive it tastes. My nipples harden under the soaked shirt, a deep, animalistic sound rumbling from his chest.

He breaks the kiss, moving his lips to the side of my neck. My eyes close and my head falls back, giving him better access. He bites, nibbles, and sucks on my sensitive flesh, marking me thoroughly.

An impatient groan vibrates against my neck, and Cove doesn’t waste any time. He pushes the car seat all the way back, then unbuttons my pants, slipping his hand into my underwear. Not once does he stop the attack on my neck, and the double stimulation causes loud moans to fill the car.

The moment his fingers touch my clit, a shudder runs through my body, and I whimper out his name. He curses against my skin, then pulls back to look at me. I’m not sure how it happened, but his hair is disheveled and messy, and his eyes — fucking hell.

Those eyes are my undoing. That perfect shade of hazel, the way his pupils dilate whenever he’s aroused and whenever the cause is me. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the cause is always me. His plump lips are parted, and he swallows thickly.

“So wet for me,’’ he murmurs in a low, deep tone that only makes me wetter. He chuckles, slowly stroking my sensitive bud. “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re drenched.’’

“It’s the rain,’’ I lied.

“Mhm,’’ he muses, amused. “Sure it is.’’

His cock hardens under me, and I’m struggling to keep myself in check. I want to suck his cock, to taste his cum, to feel it fill my mouth and slide down my throat. And at the same time, I want to feel him inside me, to stretch me as much as possible, and to hit that sweet spot deeply inside me.

Raw, primal lust flashes behind his eyes. A whimper of disappointment comes from me when he removes his fingers from my underwear. Cove keeps eye contact while bringing the fingers to his lips and sucking them clean.

“Fucking perfect.’’

“Cove, please.’’

“What do you need, bunny?”

“You,’’ I breathe out, slowly tossing my shirt to the passenger seat, leaving me in a sports bra. Cove’s hands rip it off me before putting his mouth on my aching nipple. My eyes close, my body trembling as he grazes it with his teeth.

He sucks on it, and it’s almost enough to make me come then and there. He pulls back, releasing my nipple with a pop, then reaches to the glove compartment. He pulls out a small knife, and before I can ask what he’s doing, he’s already done it.

He cuts off my pants in a few spots and just pulls the torn fabric off my body. He throws the knife to the back of the car and uses his hands to rip off my underwear. He pushes me back a little, glancing down at his hardened cock, confined by the clothes.

With shaky hands, I undo his belt and his button and pull him out of his boxers. He’s hard, his rosy tip glistening with precum that drips down the base. I give him a couple of firm, long strokes, watching as the precum starts to pour out of him.

My mouth waters at the sight, but Cove has other plans.

He lifts me enough to align his tip with my aching hole, then pauses and looks at me.

“Slowly. I want to feel every inch of my cock going in you.’’

Deliberately, I start lowering myself down on him. I bite my lip until it bleeds, taking every inch of his cock inside me. It’s slow, teasingly painful, and almost overwhelming. Inch by inch, until it’s halfway in, stretching me to the fullest.

My eyes dart to Cove as I take in the last couple of inches and take a minute to adjust to him inside me.

Cove’s eyes are glossy, pupils dilated, and pure desire is on his expression. His messy hair falls over his forehead, the veins on his neck popping as he hisses, closing his eyes and groaning loudly. His hands grip my hips, steadying me. His chest moves up and down rapidly.

The moment his eyes open again, I’m met with the deepest, neediest look in his eyes. One of his hands travels up, wrapping around my throat and keeping me in place. My pussy throbs with the need to start moving, to ride his cock like a madwoman.

“Bounce on it, bunny. Fuck yourself on my cock like the desperate whore that you are.’’

I place my hands on his shoulders to balance myself. At first, my movements are slow as I try to adjust to the position, then I gradually start bouncing on him, just like he instructed. The depth he reaches makes me moan loudly, the pleasure filling my veins and threatening to burst.

His hand around my throat doesn’t lessen its hold; if anything, he holds me harder, making it difficult to breathe. It only adds to the immense orgasm that starts building in the pit of my stomach. The sounds of our bodies molding together fill the car; the provocative sounds of his deep groaning make my heart swell.

“That’s it,’’ Cove grits out, his free hand pressing on the lower part of my stomach, his big fingers sprawled on my skin. “Ride my cock, you filthy little slut. Fuck, you were made for this, weren’t you? To be my little cumdump.’’

“Cove,’’ his name comes out as a desperate plea, my body moving faster, quicker, trying to reach the climax that both of us need. He doesn’t seem to hear me, his eyes transfixed on the way my tits bounce with each act I make.

He starts thrusting his hips upward, meeting my movements. It becomes erratic, quick, and rough, reaching the deepest parts of me, hitting my sweet spot with each thrust. My eyes roll to the back of my head, the exhilarating feeling consuming me.

I barely notice the cars driving past us, even those that stopped to do a double take. The windows on the car aren’t tinted; the only thing somewhat protecting us from the sight is the heavy rain that coats the windows, and I’m expecting someone will call the cops soon.

Cove doesn’t care, and neither do I.

I’m too focused on the way his cock feels inside me, his hand firmly around my neck and the fingers that slowly reach down, giving my clit a soft pinch.

“Jesus Christ,’’ Cove groans out, leaning back in the seat. “I’ll never get enough of you. The way your cunt just swallows my cock feels so fucking good. My personal little whore.’’

My response is a series of moans, my body shaking as the orgasm gets near, and I’m almost tipped over the edge. Cove thrusts into me harder, rubbing my clit in a circular motion, then pausing and doing it again.

“Please,’’ I beg, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Please, make me come.’’

He chuckles.

“No. You’ll be a good girl for me and make yourself come on my cock.’’

With one last slam on his cock, I come undone. I scream out his name, pleasure consuming my body and my eyes rolling back. The wave of orgasm is prolonged by Cove’s long, deep thrusts, and soon enough, I feel the warmth of his cum coating my inner walls.

My breathing is heavy, and I swallow, my throat dry. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts, then open my eyes and look at Cove. His messy state makes me want to go for another round, though I decide against suggesting it.

We really need to move somewhere private.

Cove pushes my legs apart, then spreads my folds. His semi-hard cock is still inside me, his thick cum dripping out of me, down his base. The look of pure insanity is in his eyes as he stares, then scoops some of it up and brings it to my lips.

Without a word, I take his fingers in my mouth, moaning at the salty taste. My tongue runs over his fingers, ensuring every part of them is clean and his cum remains in my mouth.

“Fucking hell,’’ he breathes out, withdrawing his fingers.

I slump on his chest, and his hands immediately wrap around my body, holding me close to him. His heartbeat is all I can hear as it slowly returns to a normal pace, both of us calming down from the intense sex.

Cove kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering for a moment longer, before he pulls me even closer, without a single inch of free space between us. Despite the cold weather, his hot body is enough to make me feel warm, safe, and secure.

“Cove?” I mumble against his chest. His fingers thread through my hair, playing idly with it as we lay on the car seat, embracing each other.

“Hm?”

“I love you,’’ I mutter. “I’m sorry for worrying you all the time.’’

“Don’t think I wasn’t serious,’’ he draws out. “There won’t be a next time because I swear to everything that is holy, I will lock you up.’’

Somehow, amidst the madness that we’ve found ourselves in, that doesn’t sound terrible. In fact, I’m liking the idea.