Page 13

THIRTEEN

HARKIN

Taste of the Divine - Shaker, Zee, CObrA

S he seemed surprised I’d keep tabs on her computer’s search history. Her laptop, phone, and body are all mine to trace at any given moment. Did it cross personal boundaries? Maybe to people who weren’t us. But we are who we are. A girl who grew up living through one horrific situation only to trade it for another and another. And a boy who was only starting to unravel the fucked-up mess his family chose to tangle the Greyson name in. Yet, a twisted sense of fate brought the two together—a catalyst for both families’ futures.

She’s been uneasy since we left Nikita’s. Her anxiety and anger grow the longer I let the quiet build between us. It was easy to spot on the subway. I watched her hands continually ball into fists and release to settle herself. When that didn’t work, her anger took hold.

My chest pushes against hers, shoving her flush against the car door. Her head connects with the glass, but my girl doesn’t react to the slight bite of pain. Unsure eyes watch me, waiting to see what I’ll do next.

The blush on her cheeks tinges a shade darker now that we’re alone and pressed together. Walls I erected earlier to process are ready to be torn down so we can share what’s on our minds. But what fun is a simple conversation when we can play a game? One where she refuses to tell me what happened and instead fights me at every turn with her smart mouth and defiant eyes. Open communication in a relationship was easy for those who didn’t have to fight through their trauma every day. What worked for them didn’t work for us. But what does, works so fucking well.

“Are you going to tell me what drove you to the city, sweetness?” I whisper, letting my tongue peek out and trace the curve of her ear.

Her breath hitches at the sensation, but she doesn’t answer.

“Were you just looking to catch up with an old friend ?”

I reach down to grip her right wrist squished between our bodies and the bench seat. My other moves in tandem to find her left, which is already twisting in the fabric of my shirt. With both in my hands, I bring them up above her head to clasp tightly, but when they bump against the seatbelt, an idea forms in my mind.

With one hand free, I pluck the knife from my waistband and flip open the gleaming blade. Her eyes lock on the sharp edge, but it’s not fear that dances there. It’s excitement. I glide the smooth metal up the thick fabric covering her body. It doesn’t have the same effect as when I get to play it against her bare flesh, but it’ll do for now.

“Harkin, what—” she pushes out but breaks off when the blade disappears behind her head.

I slice the seatbelt into two pieces, gripping the top piece’s end before it disappears into the car’s compartment. Stowing the knife’s blade between my teeth, I wrap the thick fabric around her wrists tightly, tying it off. When she pulls against them, it has the opposite desired effect. Her hands don’t break free. Instead, the seatbelt mechanism locks and pulls them tight to the edge of the seat.

I pull back, taking the knife from my mouth, and sit back on my side of the car, admiring my little trussed-up prized. It’s too bad I didn’t think to remove her clothes first. Her ire is about to build tenfold. I grip the collar of her thin t-shirt, the backs of my knuckles brushing against the swell of her full breasts.

“You wouldn’t!” she says indignantly, but knowing damn well I would and will.

“Give me a reason, little one, and this will go differently,” I offer.

“I wanted to help,” she spits out.

“A half-truth doesn’t count.” And as the words tumble from my lips, the first notes of the fabric tearing fill the air.

“You fucking asshole,” she seethes, pulling against the seatbelt, but when she remembers it’s no use, she tries the next option. Her leg starts to lift, and her booted foot is on a trajectory to cause some severe pain.

Thinking just as quickly, I capture her thighs, swinging my right leg over both to lock them between my thighs. It doesn’t stop her from bucking wildly. Her taut body fights my hold with every ounce of strength she has. But I’m more than willing to wait until she tires herself out. When she finally settles and quiets—I can only imagine what the driver thinks is going on back here—I let the standing question hang between us.

“I knew Nikita might be able to uncover something we haven’t figured out on our own.”

The tip of my blade pushes under the small lace band of her black see-through bra.

“Harkin, don’t you dare.”

The delicate fabric slices like butter, exposing her breasts, and they’re calling me home like a siren song. Leaning forward, I wrap my lips around her already hard nipple. When my teeth pull at the sensitive flesh, a keening moan encourages my ministrations. I plan to deny her, but the sounds she’s making hypnotize me under her spell. She reins it in only when I let the blade dance across her skin to the other peaked bud.

“Always the temptress,” I breathe against her skin. “So sinful, so sweet.”

I let the sharp blade nick along the curve of her areola. The tiniest beads of bright red crimson blossom under the pressure. Her breath hitches as she watches in fascination. I halt the blade’s journey when the blood begins to drip down her milky skin. I enjoy running my fingers through the rich color, smearing it like Jackson Pollock working on my next famed piece, her body the stretched canvas ready for my creative madness. The car hits a bump in the road and my hand shifts, taking the blade with it. It meets the tattooed flesh on her ribs, adding more color to the brilliant, deep shades of green and purple.

“Tell me your safe word, little one.”

“Black,” she answers right away.

“So, you wanted to help? And thought Nikita was the way to go about that?” I ask while unbuttoning her tight jeans and shoving them to lock around her knees.

“Yes, that’s all. I swear,” she pleads, eager to turn this little game on its head.

“Why go alone? You could have told James. He could have escorted you.”

She scoffs at my question, but it’s the unconscious roll of her eyes that has me sucking my top teeth and breaking out into a menacing smile. She realizes a moment too late, and those same offending eyes grow wide with the knowledge of what comes next.

“Oh, that was naughty, little one. And to think, you already have so many strikes against you today.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t—” Her excuse cuts off when the knife slides close to her pussy.

“Tell me… do you think my pretty pink cunt”—I slap the blade against the thin silk fabric covering what’s mine—“is wet enough for me to fuck you with this?” I flip the blade in my hand, offering the handle in example.

She rocks her hips back, away from me, not feeling too keen on that idea. But I’ve got one better.

“Hmm, but you’re a greedy whore for me, aren’t you, baby? I think I’d need to fuck you with”—I leave the handle outstretched and reach behind me to pull my pistol free from its holster—“this to make you come.” I weigh them between us in the air as if trying to decide which option is the best.

The answer is obvious, and I flip the blade closed, tucking it away for safekeeping. I let the tip of the pistol drag between her breasts that heave in anticipation. The deadly steel glides smoothly down her quivering stomach to the edge of her panties. I wish her blood was still flowing freely. I’d trace it across her flesh in beautiful designs just to see the way she’d beg me to finally fuck her with it. I’ll just have to find another way to make her scream her desires.

“Last chance to come clean, sweetness. After this, there won’t be any stopping until the truth is ripped from your lips on a moan.”

“I’ve told you the truth, Sir. Please don’t do this here.”

“You know, I’d believe you, baby, except that I know your tells, and you might be giving me part of the story, but there’s something you’re leaving out sweetness.”

Eyes darting away from me, she focuses on the partition.

“He can’t hear you, little one. Your screams of pain and pleasure are all mine.”

Her body relaxes slightly, and I know that changes things for her. Shoving the muzzle against the hood of her clit, a sharp hiss drags in through her teeth, and it’s the starting gun I need. I move the barrel in small circles, and before I know it, her hips are working in tandem with the weapon.

“More,” she cries.

I pull back, controlling the speed and pressure, until she takes the hint and stops moving. “Good girl. Now stay still for me, little one.”

My cock throbs against my jeans, begging to join in on the fun. I readjust in the cramped space and use the opportunity to shove her pants down to her ankles. The change helps me spread her wide, exposing the drenched fabric concealing my prize.

“Fuck, you’re soaked for me.”

I lose myself in the moment, drop the gun to my lap, and grip the thin straps on her hips. I pull hard and fast, and the fabric tears quickly. “I think these are for me,” I tell her, inhaling her scent before shoving her underwear into my back pocket.

Now that she’s utterly bare before me, I can’t help but take in her beauty. Her hands tied taut; her body stretched across the back seat, still anchored by the clothes I was too impatient to remove. Her eyes are taking on the glassy glow she gets when we fall into our dynamic. A flush blends with the swipes of blood bright against her alabaster skin. Her full lips are slightly parted, waiting to plead for me to stop or continue. It’s intoxicating, and I haven’t even gotten a taste of her delicious cunt yet.

That drives me forward, shoving my body awkwardly into the tight space of the car’s floor. Her feet are caught under me, locking her in place. My nose traces up her wet slit, my tongue following suit. Her flavor dances across my tongue, and a low growl of possessive pleasure rumbles in my chest.

I still haven’t forgotten her choice to traipse into the city to see an ex alone. One that thought she could get away with touching my girl in any fucking manner, including ghosting her lips where only mine should be.

I pick up my pace, flicking and circling her clit until she’s writhing from the sensation and moments away from drowning me with her juices. Her thighs push in, trying to tighten around my head. But I shove them back with my forearms, overexposing her core.

“I’m so close, Sir, please may I come.”

What a good girl for asking. “No,” I bark against her skin and retreat.

Her hips follow, desperate for the slightest touch to set her off, but she won’t find it in this car. We’ll play this game until she’s a quivering mess of incoherent words. Once her body’s calmed, I lift the gun and run it up and down her slit, stopping at her entrance to lube the muzzle just enough to slide it in the slightest bit. The new sensation rips her heavy eyes open. Something left unsaid dances at the tip of her tongue.

“Color, little one?” I check in because she might have agreed to inanimate objects, but I doubt she had her mind set on something so deadly.

“Yel—Green.” She changes her mind at the last minute.

I pause, focusing on her gaze, reading the truth behind the words. She’s nervous, but not enough for it to control her desire to try something new. When she doesn’t go back on her word, I let the pleasure begin.

Her tight cunt swallows the shaft, inch by inch. Arousal drips from her drenched entrance, pooling on the leather below. She’ll have to clean that up before we leave, but it comes in handy when the gun finds no resistance to bottom out.

“How does it feel being such a dirty whore that you’ll let me fuck you with the nearest, deadliest thing?”

“It makes me feel alive,” she pants.

It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I keep the pace slow and teasing, knowing it’s nothing close to what she’ll need to come, not even with the added sensation of my fingers rounding her clit. The leisurely climb takes minutes, but I could watch her unravel for hours.

“Eyes on me, little one.”

They rise and focus, waiting for my next request. My hands don’t slow, fucking her smoothly in tandem. I watch for just the right moment. The sign that euphoria is about to descend and wash her away. When I see it cross her face, I pull everything free.

“Suck it clean for me,” I order, with a tap against her lips.

She doesn’t disappoint licking the barrel clean of her nectar. My cock revolts in my jeans, throbbing painfully, desperate to be the thing her tongue is savoring like a popsicle on the hottest New York summer day. Unfortunately, for me, we’re not in a position to make that happen. We’ll have to keep this rolling when we get to the safe house.

As the thought comes to mind, the car rolls to a stop and sets back from parking. I push the small intercom button against the back seat.

“Give us a minute, and we’ll be out.”

“Of course, Sir. Take your time.”