Jaded, p.12
Jaded, page 12
I’m still wondering who that girl is to him as Locke steps in close behind me. I try to pretend I don’t notice and follow the rest of the crew down the hallway, but Locke’s hand grabs my wrist, and I know we won’t be going anywhere.
I turn to look at him, but he’s already backing me into the shadows. Past speakers and black trunks with silver metal edges, until my spine hits something hard and cold.
Locke presses his entire body against mine, pinning me to the wall. The sudden movement steals my breath. “How do I always end up in this position with you?” I gasp as he lifts a hand, his fingers gently dragging along my jawline and down my neck.
He leans in close, a low growl lacing his words as his lips hover near my ear. “Jaxon’s a great performer. He can make anyone feel special.” His tone is rougher now, lacking the annoyance and leaning into pure possession. “But I think I’m better at reminding you what’s real.”
I arch my back slightly, letting him feel how much I crave his weight against me. He grinds his hips into me harder, and my fingers curl into his t-shirt.
In an instant, Locke’s hands are roaming my entire body. A public display that’s far too familiar. He pushes my skirt up enough to slide a hand up my thigh. His fingers slip through the large openings in my tights. Hooking my thong to the side, his palm cups me and finds the slick evidence of how much I’ve been wanting this.
“Quite the show today,” he murmurs, his thumb making a slow, deliberate circle over my clit. I can’t help the moan that breaks against his lips.
“All that harmless banter,” he breathes, his fingers sliding against me, teasing my entrance before moving to circle my clit again. “All those winks and smiles you shot his way.”
He doesn’t kiss me, though his lips stay inches from mine, sharing my air. His voice isn’t cold, but it’s thick with a dark, undeniable certainty. “Even after last night, you still think you can play these games? Still want to pretend you don’t belong to anyone?”
His fingers stroke faster, a rhythmic, demanding pressure that makes my knees weak. “Well, once again, your dripping pussy says otherwise.”
He opens his mouth and bites into the base of my neck, hard enough to make me gasp, the sting immediately blooming into heat. “You’re mine,” he growls against my skin, the words a simple fact on his tongue.
His hand moves to slip underneath my shirt, his fingers finding my nipple and pinching hard enough to make me whimper.
“Say it,” he demands.
“I’m yours.” It comes out in a whisper, my voice shaky and full of need. His mouth crashes into mine, a mess of teeth and tongues.
He pulls away just enough to spin me around, his hand firm between my shoulder blades as he guides me down over one of the large black equipment trunks. The cold metal is a shock against my skin.
“I think you need a reminder of that fact,” he murmurs, his weight pressing into my back as he crowds me against the case.
I barely have time to grip the edges of the metal trunk before he lifts my skirt completely, baring me to the cool air of the night. Then the first slap lands. A stinging heat that radiates through me.
My breath hitches, a jagged sound that’s half-shock and half-surrender. My mind tries to tell me this is too much, even for him, but my body is already arching, instinctively seeking the next strike. The sudden contrast between the cold air around us and the burning on my skin creates a rush that leaves me lightheaded.
He leans down, his chest pressing into my back, his voice a low, heavy vibration against my ear.
“Say it,” he demands, his palm rubbing slow circles over the burning skin, waiting. “Who do you belong to?”
“I’m yours, Locke. I... I already said it,” I gasp, my head spinning.
Another strike lands. “Again.”
“I’m —” The next strike cut me off, stealing the air from my lungs. “Yours.”
Another slap landed, punctuated by his low voice. “Again.”
“I’m,” I gasped, arching into the heat, “yours.”
I’m lost in the blur of it all, unable to tell where the pain ends and my need begins. I’m vibrating with a need I can’t explain, leaning into the very hands that are causing me pain. It doesn’t make sense, but in this dark corner of the stage, the hurt feels like he’s pulling me closer to him the only way he knows how. I’m falling apart in his hands, and yet, I’ve never felt more secure.
The sudden flicker of the lights above us is like a bucket of ice water, dragging me back to reality as Locke’s touch turns tender, his large hands smoothing my skirt back into place over my stinging skin.
I straighten my posture and move to walk out with Locke, but he stops me. Without saying a word, one arm wraps around my back, the other slips beneath my knees, lifting me before I can protest.
He carries me to the car, despite my repeated attempts to convince him I can walk. He just silently opens the door and places me in the passenger seat of the flashy sports car he drove us in.
Locke climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, the low hum of the car vibrating through me. I watch his profile in the dark, and for the first time, I don’t fight the feelings that well up. I’m falling for him.
He flew me to Italy just for a concert. He can say it’s ‘part of the job’ all he wants, but he knew I admired Jaxon from day one. So he put me backstage where I could feel the bass in my ribs. He put me in a room with the man I’ve looked up to for years. He’s spent the past few days proving he knows exactly what I love… and making sure I know he’s the one who can give it to me.
Seeing the quiet intensity in his eyes now, I’m finally understanding that his possessive nature is his way of holding on to what’s important to him.
Chapter 26
LOCKE
The drive back to the villa is pure torture. I’m starting to think a driver would’ve been the smarter move after all. I’d much rather cozy up with her in the backseat of an SUV than be here white-knuckling the steering wheel.
Arden winces slightly as she adjusts in her seat. Thoughts of the way she looked bent over that black trunk flood my mind. Fingers gripping around the edges as I made her say it over and over again, “I’m yours.” The words echo in my mind, too.
The mounting pressure in my jeans is making it impossible to think, let alone drive. I don’t know why she has this much power over me, but it’s becoming a huge problem.
Now my only goal is getting us back to the villa in one piece so I can show her exactly what it means to belong to me. Backstage was a reminder. Not exactly a punishment, just me reclaiming what was always mine to begin with. A precursor to the way I’m going to ruin her tonight. Foreplay, if you will.
All I know is as soon as this car stops, I plan to lock the world out and leave my mark on every single place Jaxon’s eyes dared to look today.
She doesn’t wait for me. Before the engine even cuts off, she’s a blur of motion heading for the front door. She’s not fast enough to get past me, though. I’m already there, blocking her path, my pulse thrumming with a lack of control that feels almost dangerous.
“You really think I’m going to let you off that easy?”
She snaps her head in my direction. “What, that wasn’t enough for you? You’re not going to tell me to go to bed?”
A low, dry laugh scratches at my throat. “Not this time. Not even close.”
My gaze meets her ocean-blue eyes, and I catch a flicker of flame there. I drink in that look. I don’t think I could ever get enough.
She moves closer, crowding me until the backs of my thighs meet the hood of the car. I sit against it, the still-running engine warming the surrounding space. The height of her boots brings her close enough to hook her arms around my neck and pull me into a kiss.
Her tongue slides against mine with a desperate, tangling heat that tells me she wants this just as much as I do. I lock my hands around her waist, pulling her flush against me and grinding my hips into hers so there’s no mistaking exactly what she’s doing to me. No mistaking how much I need her. Right here, right now.
I shift my grip to her shoulders, the pressure firm as I guide her down until she’s kneeling on the gravel in front of me. She stays there, blue eyes wide and almost innocent as they gaze up at me. It’s fucking magic.
The car’s headlights illuminate her face as I grab a fistful of her hair and tug, tilting her head back. Her mouth falls open, eyes still locked on mine. The sight of her waiting is enough to send me over the edge.
I inch closer, tugging my zipper down to finally free myself from the suffocating grasp of my jeans. I let out a low, rough exhale as the pressure finally lets up, replaced by a much better kind of tension. “Look at you, giving me exactly what I need. Good girl.”
I can see a hint of heat creeping into her cheeks, and a small smile forming, as I place the head of my cock in her mouth, still ready and waiting.
She doesn’t miss a beat, instantly swirling her tongue over the tip, collecting the taste of me in her mouth, and wrapping a hand around the base of my cock. At first, she’s teasing; sliding her tongue and hand along the length of my shaft at an infuriatingly calm pace.
My breath hitches when she finally seals her lips around me and takes in my full length. “Fuck, Arden,” I breathe, “you look even more beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”
I curl my fingers in her hair, gripping tight to keep her mouth exactly where I want it, controlling her every move. She lets out a moan around me, triggering a low groan that escapes my lips before I can stop it. I’m suddenly driven by a relentless need to lose control, even as I fight to keep her completely under mine.
I pull her head toward my body, forcing my cock deeper into her mouth until I feel it hit the back of her throat. Reality feels out of focus as I settle into a rhythm. Thrusting hard and fast until the world narrows to nothing but breath and motion.
Tears stream down her face, mascara staining her cheeks in thick black smudges. Then she gags, and I unravel entirely. I can’t even warn her before the thick streams of cum shoot into the back of her throat, filling her mouth before she swallows it all.
The tension in my muscles disappears, and I can finally ease the tension in my hand, releasing my grip on her hair. I’m still drifting back to earth when she rocks back on her heels, looking up at me with a smile on her face that’s nothing short of lethal.
“I’m yours,” she says, her words coated with wicked amusement, “or do I need to tattoo your name on me like a luggage tag for you to finally believe it?”
“Careful,” I rasp. “I might just take you up on that. I’ve got a very specific spot in mind for the ink.”
I watch that wicked smile of hers falter for a split second as I reach for her. Before she knows what’s happening, I’m already sweeping her into my arms. My hands wrap around the backs of her thighs as I carry her through the villa doors. The scene feels almost like déjà vu, but this time I head straight for the bedroom.
I set her lightly on the edge of the mattress, not bothering to pull back the quilted comforter as I guide her down onto her back. Her shirt slides off and is thrown to the floor in one fluid motion. Then, I’m tugging her skirt to her ankles too, and soon she’s in nothing but fishnets. They look better on her than any tattoo ever could; I’m more than happy to work around them.
Taking in the sight of her, almost naked in the moonlight, my mouth nearly waters. Her exposed nipples peak in the cool night air, and I can’t resist leaning down to take one between my teeth. The quick taste is just enough to evoke a sound that lands somewhere between a gasp and a moan.
I raise her legs into the air, spreading her wide open in front of me, and reach between her thighs. She’s still slick with need for me, just like she was at the concert.
I slowly slide two fingers inside of her, gently massaging her inner walls as I admire the way her wavy hair falls around her face. She moans my name, gripping the sheets, and I take my fingers back.
Making sure she’s watching, I slide them into my mouth and lick myself clean. Her sweet taste alone is stirring that primal hunger in my chest again. “I wasn’t lying when I said you’re delicious; it almost seems criminal not to have a taste.”
I want to play, to tease, but the primal — no, feral — side of me can’t wait any longer. It aches to feel the tight grip of her pussy squeezing my cock.
She doesn’t respond right away, just gazes up at me, gently biting her lip, waiting for whatever comes next as she watches me kick off my jeans. As I move back toward her, she reaches out, her fingertips grazing my hip.
“You’re doing a lot of talking for someone who’s supposed to be claiming me,” she challenges.
A dry chuckle vibrates in my chest as I lean in, shadowing her completely. “Patience, darling. I was just appreciating the view first.”
I can feel her shaking with anticipation as I roll her onto her stomach, sliding her legs out with my knees to position her on all fours in front of me. I let out a deep moan at the sight of her perfect ass and cunt on full display. I grip her hips, then drag my hands down over the light imprint of my hand still lingering from earlier.
“Keep being a good girl for me, Arden. You might get a treat.”
She lets out a small, needy hum of approval. Unable to wait any longer, I place the head of my cock at her entrance. Then, slowly, inch my way in. The squeeze is so perfect I can barely contain myself. Everything about her makes me want to lose control.
I take my time, letting my hands roam from her hips to her ass, spreading her wide as I thrust in and out at a steady pace. I lean forward, my mouth hovering just above her as I let a slick thread of saliva bridge the gap between us. I use my thumb to spread it over her hole before pressing it inside.
Her moan reverberates through me, threatening to tear me apart, and I watch as she grabs fistfuls of the sheets. I reach my other hand around to trace circles over her clit, and her inner walls squeeze my cock. It’s clear how close she is, too.
I continue my rough thrusts in and out of her as she arches her back, begging for more.
“Fuck, Locke. I’m so —” She whimpers between moans. She doesn’t have to finish her sentence for me to know exactly what she means.
“Cum for me, Arden. I need to feel that tight pussy squeeze around me again.”
Her answering moan echoes through the villa. Her body goes wild, hips bucking against my thrusts, until we both topple over the edge together.
As the frenzy fades, leaving only the sound of our ragged breathing and the two of us lying in the dark together, I reach for the familiar crutch of calculated distance I use to keep the world out. But my fingers come up empty.
I’ve spent my entire life obsessed with being the one who always has control; the man who writes the narrative. But between her moans and the primal need that hooked its claws in me, I seem to have truly lost it. She hasn’t just unraveled me; she’s made me unrecognizable, even to myself.
Except, for once, that thought isn’t accompanied by fear. Just a strange sense of clarity. There’s something here with her that feels entirely worth the risk of getting close and, for the first time, actually expecting someone to stay.
Chapter 27
ARDEN
Fresh espresso is the first thing I see when I open my eyes. Sitting on the nightstand, still steaming hot. Underneath the tiny mug is a piece of paper with something scrawled on it in black ink. I pick up the drink with one hand and the note with the other, taking a sip while I read: I promised you a treat. Get ready and meet me at the door.
I jump out of bed, downing the shot. Getting dressed is easy, I already had a black t-shirt and my favorite ripped jeans set aside for today. I swap my usual boots for high-top Converse, throwing on a black beanie and a swipe of mascara to finish the look. I’m ready to go in ten minutes flat. That has to be a record.
As I reach the bedroom door, I realize I’m forgetting something. I double back, rushing to my duffel bag to retrieve the tarnished gold chain from the inside pocket. I shove it in my jeans as I exit into the hallway.
Locke is seated in a chair near the front door, a cigar balanced between his fingers. He’s in a t-shirt for the second day in a row, the cotton stretched taut across his chest and shoulders in a way that a suit could never touch. My pulse quickens, and I have to consciously force my gaze upward from the defined curve of his bicep to his face.
It’s a rare sight, Locke unbuttoned and unguarded. But I know the clock is ticking. The job will be waiting for us back in Vegas, and I have a feeling it’ll turn him back into the ‘all business’ man I first met. I’m going to enjoy every moment of the more relaxed version of him while I can.
As soon as he notices me, he stands. “I didn’t know you owned sneakers.”
“Well, I didn’t know you owned more than one t-shirt,” I quip back.
The usual edge in his expression has melted into something softer, and his lips part in a faint, amused line. “I promised you a treat. Jax is already on his way to his next show, and Nate’s taking care of everything back home, so I thought we’d just enjoy one more day in Verona together.”
I nod, a smile turning up the corner of my lips, and follow him out. There’s no driver and no car waiting. I shoot him a puzzled look. “No car?”
“I thought we could walk today,” he says with a shrug. He offers his arm, a silent command for me to intertwine mine. I accept the invitation as we continue into the nearby square.
We spend the morning and early afternoon wandering through piazzas and exploring local markets. Snaking through crowds, stopping to admire the flowers, produce, and souvenirs, and occasionally pausing for a glass of wine. There’s something about the cobblestone streets and views of the river winding through the city that makes the air itself feel romantic. Like we’ve stepped into a dream.
When Locke approaches me with a bouquet of red roses, orange zinnias, and deep purple chrysanthemums wrapped in brown paper, the breath hitches in my throat.
