Dark Secrets (9 page)

Her breasts labored up and down with every strained breath
she took. The rosy blush coloring her chest looked sexier than hell. Her dark
hair looked black, her blue eyes vibrant. It made her appear wild, like some
fucking sex goddess. Her gaze tracked my every move and when she looked up to
meet my eyes, the fury I found made it hard to stay in control.

She dropped her hand to her side and within a blink of eye
she went from sexy I-wanna-fuck to badass I’m-going-to-castrate-you. “When the
hell did you turn into such a girl, Micah? Shouldn’t I be the one who is
supposed to want to talk about our feelings? To pick apart every word you say,
store it for later and then obsess over it after you’ve passed out for the
night?”

She just fucking called me a girl.
I opened my mouth,
but she spoke over me.

“Get out,” she hissed.

“Excuse me?” I pushed from the wall into the stream of
water. Waves of furious energy swirled between us—hers and now mine. The steam
bent around our bodies, as if our emotions were something corporeal.

“Oh, you heard me. I have zero interest in talking to you
right now. When I needed you the most you weren’t here. Seems you’re never
there anymore! I need you now, and you’re rejecting me. Again.” She poked my
chest, each word punctuated by a stab. “Well, fuck you, Micah.”

I snarled at her, no longer in control. How had things
turned bad so quickly?

I grabbed her arm, wrenched it behind her back and yanked
her against my chest. I drew her up until her warm breath fanned across my
face. She struggled against me, our slick bodies sliding together but I was the
alpha here, not her. Her desire spiked, giving off a subtle scent that drew me
like a moth to a flame.

The demon took over and for the first time, I willingly let
it. “You want to fuck?” I nipped her bottom lip. “Fine.”

I spun her around and shoved her up against the shower wall,
her cheek colliding with the little tile squares. She sucked in a breath and
pushed out her ass in invitation.

My pulse sped with desire, with the need to mark her, to
make her bleed and scream and cry out with abandon. The need to feel her
tightness pulsing around me as I pounded into her was too great. I grabbed a
handful of her hair and pulled her back. She let out a long, low moan that
appeased the monster inside me.

My words were a cruel command whispered against her ear. “Hands
behind you.”

When she didn’t move quickly enough, I let go of her hair
and grabbed first one palm she had braced against the wall, then the other. I
twisted her arms back and pinned them to the base of her spine, caging her
wrists in my grasp. I pulled her away from the wall, stealing her support and
leaving her off balance.

Water cascaded down her spine, over her upturned ass, and
dripped along her exposed sex. I kicked her legs apart and took a second to
admire her red, swollen flesh. She had the prettiest pussy I’d ever seen.

Mine.

“Are you wet for me?” My mouth watered as I recalled the
honey taste of her arousal on my tongue.

Ella moaned but didn’t answer me. Stubborn minx.

I drew two fingers along her slit, following the path of the
water before I shoved them deep inside and twisted. Fuck. She was wet. And hot.
And tight. She cried out and pushed against my digits, her way of telling me
she needed them deeper.

“Is this what you want?” I pulled out and slammed back home,
curving my fingers to stroke the hard knot of her G-spot.

“Harder,” she ordered.

I tightened my grip where I held her hands hostage as
punishment for her tone. Water rained down around us, the pattering drowning
out the sound of our racing heartbeats. I leaned over her and continued the
steady in and out of my fingers. The harder I gripped her, the slicker her sex
got.

I sucked her earlobe into my mouth, bit down. A shiver raced
down her spine and my cock threatened to shoot off like a rocket. I removed my
fingers and rubbed my erection along her opening.

“I want you to remember one thing.”

She whimpered, struggling against my hold. She turned her
head and glanced at me over her shoulder. Her icy gaze met mine. “Shut up and
fuck me.”

I slapped her ass, hard, and the sound of my palm hitting
her wet flesh rang out. Ella moaned, her eyes darkening. She pulled her lower
lip between her teeth.

Fuck she was sexy.

I wrapped the wet strands of her hair around my hand and
pulled, forcing her head back. “You asked for this, babe.”

I pushed my cock inside her pussy in one hard thrust. She
cried out and ground her ass against me, forcing me deeper. Waves of pure bliss
shot down my legs, numbing me to everything except how her tight heat
surrounded me. My vision blurred to red as the demon surged and took full
control.

Pain and pleasure filled me at Micah’s rough penetration.
His cock split me in half. How could I have ever forgotten how he fit inside
me? How he stretched me? I needed this distraction, this little bit of agony
mixed with the ecstasy.

I needed him.

Micah stilled behind me, a long, low groan escaping his
throat that sent a shiver down my spine. He pinched my wrists together, his
skin burning mine, and used his hold to guide me forward and then back on his
shaft, hitting all the right spots. My knees went weak. If it weren’t for Micah
holding me up, I would have fallen.

“So damn tight.” His voice was a sexy rasp of desire I felt
from the inside out.

He pulled all the way out, leaving me empty and wanting
before slamming in hard enough for his balls to slap against my wet skin. My
body, in his complete possession, rocked with the momentum of his thrusts.
Micah pulled on my hair, sending little pricks of pain from my scalp to my
core. Water sprayed into my open mouth and I closed my eyes at the warmth
running over me.

The pounding jets massaged my muscles, easing the ache from
Micah’s too-tight grip, from the way he bent my body and took full control.
Micah pulled out, thrust in, again and again. Each time he slammed home, the
resonation of his thrusts rippled through me. He hit some spot deep inside and
pleasure spasmed through me despite the slight pain of his invasion. The crown
of his cock rubbed my G-spot with every dominating thrust.

The world faded and I moaned his name.

Micah pulled out, slammed back. He let go of my wrists and I
pitched forward with his next plunge. Panic gripped me for the smallest of
seconds before he caught me by the back of the neck. As if he wasn’t fucking me
hard enough, with every thrust, he pulled me back onto him, doubling the impact
of his penetration. Slap. Slap. Slap. Our skin came together in a hard, furious
tempo. The wet, carnal sounds and smells of sex overrode my senses.

Micah’s grip on my nape tightened as a pained, involuntary cry
left my throat. My pussy flooded with moisture, all my restless energy homing
in on my neglected clit. He rammed inside me, a collision of bodies that was
more brute force than skill.

Even though my body responded, my mind still whirred. I
should have felt connected to him considering how intimately we were joined.
Instead, with every thrust, I felt more detached. There was no emotion coming
from Micah, nothing to ground me. It could have been anyone fucking me,
coercing my body into climax.

Pain bloomed where his grip pinched too tight on my neck and
my pussy ached at his rough, hard pounding. My body responded anyway,
slickening, opening and accepting every punishing slap of his hips against my
stinging ass where he’d slapped me.

This was all wrong.

He didn’t kiss me. Didn’t stroke his hand down the center of
my back. The only place we connected was where his cock was ripping me in half.
He held on and fucked me with every ounce of his strength. Hard. Harder. Hardest.
His every forward push rocked my entire body and my breasts bounced. My breath
came in shallow pants, not delivering the oxygen I needed. Stars danced in
front of my eyes. Was I breathing at all? I stiffened from head to toe as a
wave of goose bumps raced over my arms.

An unexpected climax stole over me and I tensed around his
shaft in rhythmic, contracting waves of pleasure.

“Again,” he demanded. His voice was dark, foreboding, as if
it didn’t even belong to him.

One peak drifted into another, and another, and still he
continued to pound into me as if he were a machine—a cock.

I’d asked for this. He’d warned me and I hadn’t cared. I’d
wanted an escape, a way to avoid talking about our relationship, to avoid my
colossal fuck-up as queen bee. I hadn’t wanted him to tell me he was done with my
crap, over jumping from one catastrophe to another. I hadn’t wanted to talk
about hunters or my uncle who was lying in the hospital on the verge of death.
I didn’t want to admit I was a murderer. All my failures hit me one after the
other, knocking me off-kilter.

Sickness immediately drowned the ecstasy. Tears filled my
eyes and the raining water washed them away like a dirty secret. I tried to
hold them back but a choked sob left my throat regardless. A tide of emotion
swept over me, drowning me, killing the pre-Lizbeth Ella I was trying to
recover.

“Fucking Christ,” Micah hissed and for a split second, my
heart shattered.

He let go of my neck and stroked a hand down my back, the
tips of his fingers soft and gentle. He cupped my hip and cradled me to him.

“Did I hurt you?”

His words were spoken in a low, devastated tone, bringing me
back to all those month ago when we’d gone at each other in the hospital
bathroom. Apparently, we had a theme.

I shook my head, not able to tell him how very sorry I was
about everything.

He pulled his still-hard cock out of my quivering sex with a
wet, slurping pop even the thundering shower couldn’t have concealed. Without
his strength, his support, I collapsed to the slick, wet floor. My sobs were
ugly, body-trembling hiccups. Micah wrapped his arms around me, and the second
he did I turned and threw myself at him, knocking him back. I buried my face against
his neck and climbed into his lap.

His arms were hard, hot bands around my body, anchoring me
to him. “Shush, I’m so sorry, baby. I was too rough. I shouldn’t have done
that. I’m sorry about everything.”

My ass stung. My pussy ached, a deep cramping within my womb
that told me I’d pushed my body too far and gotten off on it.

“I asked for it. God, Micah. Why do I fuck everything up? I’m
a horrible girlfriend. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”

He cupped the back of my head, pinning me to him in the best
way possible. Our hearts raced in tandem. The connection between us pulsed, reminding
me of our bond—the pesky claiming that had stolen our choices from us.

He was my mate. My everything.

“You aren’t a horrible girlfriend, Ella,” he whispered. “I
promise. I got off on it just as much as you did.”

My stomach roiled, a nest of angry bees stinging me from the
inside out. “I feel sick.”

He stroked my back and I inhaled his scent. I let his
comfort envelope and surround me, let it fix some of the things that were
broken deep inside since my encounter with Lizbeth.

“Do you need to throw up?” he asked gently.

I shook my head. “No. I can’t believe I came like that. What’s
wrong with me?”

Micah pulled me from his neck and swiped the tears away with
his thumb. The water from above was a steady stream of warmth. Steam billowed,
shrouding us in privacy. He held my face between his palms.

“Absolutely nothing is wrong with you. I know your body,
Ella. I know exactly what you like and I used that knowledge against you
because I was pissed.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch earlier. I turned everything around
and made it about me. It was selfish and petty. I’m not sure what came over me.
You didn’t deserve it.”

He lifted me off the shower floor and rose with me in his
arms to set my ass on an inlaid shelf that fit me perfectly. I refused to think
why it was here or how many times Lizbeth had found herself in this same
position.

I spread my legs and Micah stepped forward to fit his hips
into the V of my thighs. His cock was soft and warm against my tender sex. For
once, him not being aroused comforted me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, keeping as much of our
bodies together as possible. Water dripped from his hair, down his neck and
chest. My heart kicked up its tempo as I drank him in.

Some part of me envied Hannah for getting a choice in who
she shared a bed with. But the other part of me, the one that stared into Micah’s
blue-green eyes and got lost, knew on some fundamental level that I’d have
picked him anyway. Dante might be attractive and alpha to his core, but Micah
was dark, brooding and fierce. He was rough and callous, the kind of
abrasiveness I needed in my life.

Micah pressed his lips to mine in a slow, tender kiss and
soothed my wounded soul in a way vampire abilities couldn’t heal. I leaned into
him, our mouths opening, tongues sliding against one another in a gentle
caress. He drank from me, giving as much as he took.

Micah pulled away and rested his forehead to mine, the
pattering of the shower lulling me. “I haven’t exactly been a prince either. I
shouldn’t have kept that shit with my mom a secret. I knew it. Eli warned me.
Dante warned me. The longer I kept it, the worse I felt. My mom was raped,
Ella—what does that make me? I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

I stroked his cheek, my hand scraping over stubble. “What
happened to your mom wasn’t your fault, Micah. I can understand why you might
want to keep that to yourself. Next time just tell me you need time, and I
swear I’ll do my best to give you privacy. I was more hurt that you pushed me
away and kept me at arm’s length. Then you mentioned the cheating and this
blonde bimbo popped in my head…and yeah. I wasn’t thinking rationally. I’ve
grown dependent on you and it’s not healthy. I’ve been a hot mess since that
crap with Hannah happened—emotional, moody and I don’t know, just off somehow.”

“Are you going to punch me if I ask if you’re about to go on
the rag or some shit?”

The rag? Seriously. Only a man would say that.

I slapped his chest. “You’re an ass.”

He caught my hand and drew my palm to his lips. “I’ll take
that as a yes. And we’re still learning how the bond works—don’t be so hard on
yourself. Things between us have moved at warp speed. Sometimes it’s hard to
navigate the line where I end and you begin.”

My heart skipped a beat and I pulled back, dropped my legs
from around his waist. A hard knot formed in the pit of my stomach.

“Do you want out?” I hated the way my voice trembled.

Even as he caught my thigh and wrapped it back up around
him, he was shaking his head. “Hell no. I love you, Ella. Do I wish things were
different? Sure. We might not have chosen this, but don’t think for one second
I regret our relationship or having you by my side. Oh, and for the record,
just so we’re clear, I didn’t cheat on you. Eli informs me I don’t even look at
other women, which he says is weird.”

Half of my mouth quirked up. “You don’t even look a little?”

“Nope. They aren’t you. They don’t have your eyes, your
smile, your voice. No other woman compares, not then, not now, not in a hundred
and fifty years—if I live that long, Castro seems to think I’ll be immortal.”

The last wall between us crumbled down. I’d known it, in my
heart, but his words, the sincerity in his eyes, were what I needed to hear.

The blonde in my head died a slow, painful death. There was
lots of writhing agony involved.

“I knew—on some level—you didn’t cheat on me.” I trailed my
hands over his wet, muscular shoulders and up his neck until I cupped the back
of his head. I toyed with the hair at his nape and guided his head to mine. I
tugged on his lower lip with my teeth before sealing our mouths together.

He stroked his tongue into my mouth, teasing me with slow,
wet strokes. I moaned into him and wiggled closer. Between us, his cock
stiffened. He tore from my mouth and licked a hot line from my jaw to my neck,
lapping at the water running over us. I arched against him and rubbed my tummy
against the erection jutting between us.

Micah cupped my breast—the one covered in our mating
marks—and teased my tender nipple. My eyes fluttered shut and I pressed my
chest into his palm, silently asking for more. He plucked the bud, sending
bolts of sensation through me, and I moaned.

“I missed you so damn much.” He spoke against my throat and
worked his way down my neck.

He used his tongue to trace a path over the delicate lines
of my crimson tattoo. I leaned my back against the wall when he bent and
scraped his teeth across my nipple.

Holy shit that felt good.

“Mmm,” I groaned and closed my eyes, concentrating on the
hot, delicious slide of his tongue, the way he suckled me. Every pull sent a
burst of pleasure to my clit.

He alternated breasts, giving each one equal attention until
I thought I might come from his mouth alone. Micah curved the hand he had on
the outside of my thigh and spread me open. He cupped my pussy, rubbing me
while he moved from one breast to the other. Pleasure surged and I writhed,
unable to stay still. I flexed my fingers against his shoulder, nails digging
into skin.

Micah pulled from my breast and nipped the side of my neck
as if to remind me of his mark there. He pushed two fingers inside my sex,
curving them in and out gently. I opened my eyes to find him looking at me, his
gaze full of hunger and want.

“I love seeing you like this,” he whispered, his voice a
rough rasp against my senses. “Open, vulnerable. Sexy as fuck.”

“Show me.” I leaned forward to capture his mouth.

Our tongues touched and forced a wave of red-hot need to
spiral through me. He replaced his fingers with his shaft and slowly pushed
into my core. The mechanics were the same as earlier, but there was something
so different this time. His heat surrounded me, seeping in from where we
touched. As he filled me, he looked deep into my eyes and let me see everything
he was.

The man. The demon. My mate.

Mine.

The mark on my shoulder and breast heated—a silent
reaffirmation of our connection. He drew out of my body and pushed inside with
a smooth, slow slide that stole my breath. Our mouths met and he grabbed my
hands, interlocking our fingers. He pinned my arms to the slick wall above my head
as he made love to me. With every thrust, he rolled his hips, a sexy rhythm
that had me clenching.