When I’m well and truly sated, Gio pulls out of me and lowers me back to my knees. My lashes flutter and my brow creases in confusion, until he says, “Open your mouth, Prep Girl. It’s time for you to swallow my taste. Time for me to mark you.”
A moan flows from between my lips. My filthy playboy wants to leave me with something of him after our encounter. I follow the command, leaning back, opening myself for him as he strokes his cock from root to tip. His eyes connect with mine, holding for several long seconds as the tension in his muscles ripples over his frame.
His cock jerks and white cum shoots out across my tongue. I lean forward, trying to take him between my lips, but before I can get another jet of cum, Gio directs the head of his cock down to my tits. Rope after rope of milky fluid falls over my breasts, painting my skin in his release. I gasp and lift my breasts higherto make sure he covers them and to avoid getting any on the actual dress.
Gio’s deep, guttural moan is sensual and reverberating. I blink at the cooling liquid that drips from one nipple. When he’s done, Gio drags two digits up over my breast, sliding the pads of his fingers through the mess he’s made of me before lifting it back to my mouth.
“Open,” he commands again, and I do. Parting my lips to allow him access, I shiver as he smooths his cum over my tongue. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Take me inside your luscious little body, Prep Girl, and know that no matter where you go, you will always come back to us. You will always belong to us.”
When his hand retracts, I close my mouth and swallow his seed. Warmth flushes over my skin, a desperate need filling me up from the inside. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else but them.
They might have branded my soul, but that claim goes both ways. The Scorpion Kings aremine.
51
LEX
Misery doesn’t love company. It’s a mean beast that only wants to consume. No one is company. Everyone is food.
The clock on the wall of the hotel room chimes, nearly making me jump at the sudden sound. I glance up. It’s already half past nine.Where the fuck is she?
Needing a distraction, I glance over to where Nolan is standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the flickering lights of the city beyond. It may only be an hour or so away from Silverwood, but this place is difference incarnate. Giant chrome knives jutting upward, reaching for the sky like fingertips craving the clouds. Lights dancing high and low. The loud honking of cars below. It’s louder here. Crowded. Yet, somehow, everyone is more invisible.
Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.
My gaze falls to the card Nolan flips through his fingers. I don’t know how he knew that it’d be embedded within the invitation he received, but when we’d arrived at the room, he’d taken the invitation he’d been given and ripped the top part straight down the middle, revealing a key card that had been slipped between two cards plastered together.
Now, here we are, sitting in a hotel room that’s bigger than my own fucking house, complete with its own bedroom, living room, and kitchen area. It’s more of an apartment than a hotel room. The space makes my skin itchy.
I bow my head again, staring at the hard grain of the carpet between my feet.What will Juliet say when she sees me? Will she forgive me?Canshe forgive me?
I shove a hand through my hair and grab hold of a large chunk. I don’t know if I can even forgive myself. A strange heat burns in the back of my eyes. I wanted to kill her. I hurt her. I ripped her open and let her bleed because… I hurt. Because I thought she’d left me.
The reality is so much worse.
My love is a violent thing. A damaged creature reaching for affection and responding with rage when it senses even the slightest hint of rejection. If she is heaven, then I am hell, and the two of us are too different to truly form a lasting connection. Yet, I cannot see myself without her.
I need her like grass needs the sun. I need her to fuckingliveand if I don’t have her, then we’re both fucking dead.
There’s a knock on the door. My head jerks up just as Nolan leaves the window and goes to open it. His feet move silently over the carpet. I suck in air, but feel nothing inflate my lungs. Sweat dampens my brow.I can’t breathe.
The door opens and Gio steps inside first, his shirt untucked, his hair mussed, and his jacket no longer around his shoulders, but hanging over his arm. I frown, standing. Then,shesteps inside.
Her hair is a mess around her face and shoulders. The mask she’s still wearing only highlights the blue of her eyes and hair as both she and Gio move farther into the room and the door closes behind them.
I don’t think. I just react.
Getting up from my seat, I stride over to her, not stopping until she’s directly in front of me. Her head tips back and her lips pinch tight before loosening as she gazes up at me. Neither of us say a damn word for a long time.
Then, because I can’t stand it anymore, I go to my knees before her. I bow my head. Pain slices through my spine and up into my skull, radiating outward. My eyes ache with the need to sob. Years—it’s been years since I’ve actually cried. I stopped crying when I learned it didn’t change things. Crying wouldn’t keep my father from hating me. It wouldn’t bring my mother back to life. It wouldn’t make my aunt care for me.
But I cried for her the night I hurt her. Now, I cry for us both.
As the first tear slips free, I part my lips and suck in a shaky breath. “Juliet… I’m so sorry.” The words rasp from my parched throat. Tight. Untenable. “I…”
Sorry isn’t enough. Apologies aren’t enough. What else can I do? What can I do to show her my regret?
An idea forms and I reach into my pocket and retrieve a familiar knife—the one she left behind. Her first weapon. I don’t know what possessed me to bring it tonight, but perhaps I knew all along that something else needed to be done in order to attain any length of actual forgiveness from her.
