CAPTOR (The Alpha Brotherhood) (Standalone Dark Billionaire New Adult Romance) (17 page)

His mouth finds mine and he kisses me, gently at first. One of his hands slides around my waist and rests on the small of my back as the other wraps into mine. He keeps pulling away to gaze into my eyes before coming back in for another kiss. My stomach starts fluttering like crazy and for a moment I forget what’s about to happen.

Then he bites down on my earlobe with a grunt as he pushes inside me. I screech from the shock and grab onto him as he whispers, “Shhh. You’re okay.”

He lingers motionless for a few moments as my heart pounds wildly. I’m breathing so fast, but it actually wasn’t that terrible. Shane strokes my hair and kisses me softly as he pushes in deeper. The fullness is so satisfying and I moan into his shoulder. He draws back and thrusts again, going even deeper until my legs spread wider to make room for his hips, my flesh swelling around him.

“Zoey,” he breathes, his arms enveloping me as he picks up speed with a groan I feel rumbling through his solid chest.

I nuzzle under his chin as I hang on for the ride. His grunts and moans coax the lust that had claimed my entire existence just a moment before out from its hiding place. I tilt my hips up to meet his thrusts as the muscles inside me tense and quiver.

His hand clutches my head to his chest when my body starts to buck uncontrollably as I scream and moan like an animal. A shudder rolls through Shane’s body in the middle of my release and he grits his teeth as his hips slam into mine.

The world comes back into focus and he’s breathing heavily against the side of my face. Oh, my God. It happened. I lost my V card. Shane kisses the tip of my nose before rolling off me and laying on his back with a giant smile on his face.

I look down at my recently de-virginized body. Holy shit. It’s so red. My stomach churns and my head spins as everything gets fuzzy.

“Are you alright, Z?” Shane asks, the smile falling away as his eyes fill with concern. I can’t answer him. “Zoey?”

Shane

“Zoey!” I shout as her eyes roll back.

My chest cavity implodes and for a moment I wonder if it’s possible that I’ve literally fucked her to death. It’s far more likely that Z passed out from the shock, not the blood loss. I’ve only taken one other girl’s virginity before. She didn’t bleed anything like this.

Clearly I should have jacked off first or at least made an attempt to be gentle instead of cleaving the poor girl in half. Goddammit.

I slide my arm beneath her neck and wrap my body around hers. She’s completely limp. I’m not used to remorse mingling with the afterglow, let alone panic. Her hand finally jerks against my chest. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I released it.

“Z?” I whisper into her ear. Her eyelids flutter and she moans softly. Please wake up.

I can’t decide whether I should give her another minute or call the doctor immediately. Is it safe to move her? Are you supposed to elevate someone’s head or feet when they faint, or leave them lying flat? Right now I have her on her side, I should probably roll her on her back.

She takes a deep breath, but she’s drenched in sweat. This is not how I pictured cuddling afterwards. I actually dreamt about that a few nights ago. It made me feel like a weakling the following day until I saw her beautiful smile at dinner and accepted the fact that there’s no point pretending that all I needed was carnal satisfaction. I want all of her. I need all of her.

Z groans and her eyes barely open. “Hey,” I say loudly, snapping my fingers in front of her face. “Zoey, stay with me.”

“What happened?” she murmurs.

“You fainted.”

“Crap,” she replies, covering her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

I can’t help but laugh, clearly making it worse for her. “Sorry.”

“I, um, well… sort of get really nauseous at the sight of blood. I’ve always been such a wimp. Half the time I pass out.”

Of course she does. My eyes drop down to the scarring on her side. Why didn’t I think of that? A chill runs through my body down to the bone. “You really should reconsider a career in nursing.” My voice is a little shaky, but I don’t think she noticed.

“I know,” she groans, her expression defeated. Zoey’s eyes start to drop down to the carnage, but I block her view.

“Look at me instead,” I tell her, keeping my face in front of hers.

“Okay.” She’s white as a sheet, the color completely drained from her lips.

I’ve got to get this cleaned up. I glance down at my dick and her thighs, seeing nothing but red. I need to get us cleaned up. I’ve wanted to take a bath with her in it anyway. “Better yet, close your eyes again. I’m going to pick you up.”

“You’re supposed to keep someone lying flat for twenty minutes after they regain consciousness.”

“Since when do you possess the ability to do what you’re supposed to do for an entire twenty minutes?” I laugh.

She smiles weakly at me and shakes her head. “Get me out of here. I want to take a shower.”

“Out of the question.”

Glaring defiantly at me, she attempts to sit up. What a brat. I gather her body into my arms and stand, turning her away from the scene. She makes a pathetic sound and her head starts to fall back, but she manages to regain some control and it flops forward instead. I kiss the crown of her head, like I always do when she hides under my chin. It surprised me so much the first time, I did it automatically.

I lower her into the tub and turn on the water. It doesn’t take long to wipe us clean, but I wasn’t expecting it to have such an effect on me. Every inch of her skin is so precious. I’m engrossed in every movement she makes, particularly if she jerks or winces. I’m reluctant to admit it, but I’ve always enjoyed the idea of leaving a woman sore after I’ve had her. Perhaps it will be like that soon one day with her, but right now I’m consumed by guilt. I’ve never been this worried about someone in my life. I didn’t realize it was even possible to be so concerned.

It shouldn’t surprise me at this point. Attached isn’t an adequate word, especially now that I’ve slept with her. Obsessed doesn’t quite cover it, either. Something shifts inside me when I crawl in bed beside her and watch her drift to sleep. I’m falling into the abyss and I can’t stop.

Zoey has me by the balls. At least she doesn’t know it.

I go down on her the next morning, utterly captivated by every squeal that comes out of her mouth and every shudder that travels through her body. She’s swollen and bruised, but still offers herself to me. I’m beyond tempted to use her mouth instead, but I know I’ll be a brute and somehow manage to resist the impulse.

It works out in my favor. Z wants to sculpt and invites me to watch her. Her cheeks flush red when I say yes, but after a while she begins to work as if I’m not here. I never thought I’d be jealous of a hunk of clay. Every movement she makes is so fluid and controlled, her attention completely focused on her creation.

It’s a work of art by the time she’s through with it. I doubt she’ll have as much luck trying to mold me.

She curls up in bed beside me when she’s finished. My insides twist around until I can hardly breathe as my hand travels the length of her body. She’s so relaxed now, that tension that once warped every muscle chased away, hopefully for good.

“I’m a little hungry,” she says, lifting her face. There’s a smear of clay across her forehead where she wiped her brow.

“What do you want to eat?”

“You mentioned something about making applesauce,” she suggests timidly.

I can’t believe I told her so much, that I took her there to begin with. Zoey runs her fingers across my jaw, reminding me that I haven’t shaved for days. Her beautiful hazel eyes fill with concern as she presses her lips to my forehead and my heart pumps faster.

“I don’t know how to make it,” I confess. “I was very young.”

“It’s not hard, I looked it up. There’s a food processor down stairs. Now as for actually canning it… that looks pretty complicated.”

“She learned it as a child when she lived in Norway. It took days, but she preserved a lot more than apples. There were shelves full of jars all winter.” I haven’t thought about this in ages. It was another life.

“Well, let’s just make one or two and keep them in the fridge,” she says. Adam keeps telling me that you can’t live in the past and I, in turn, always tell him to go fuck himself. But I never considered traveling this far back. I don’t answer her. “You actually have a tradition, Shane. A nice one. Don’t let it slip away.”

“Alright,” I whisper. A coy smile breaks across her face. I love that smile. She always wears it when I do as she asks, it’s the only reward that I need.

I’m rather shaken up when we get down to the kitchen and that distinctly sweet scent fills my nostrils. Z notices but doesn’t say a word, looking up a recipe and searching through the cupboards. This is practically her kitchen now. I debated even including one when I designed the place. I’m glad I decided on something so extensive.

Zoey starts peeling and chopping and I mostly watch until I realize that her left hand is extremely fatigued. It hurts, I can tell. I immediately spring to action and start doing the grunt work, demanding that she lets it rest. She doesn’t listen, retrieving another cutting board.

“I don’t think so.” I wrap my fingers around her good arm and pull her to her feet.

Her eyes narrow slightly. She’s forcing it though, the pace of her breathing quickens as much as mine. “You are really controlling, do you realize that?” she retorts.

“Of course I realize that. Stop acting like you want it to change.”

“Shane—”

So far, my preferred method of interrupting her is parting her disobedient lips with mine. She exhales in frustration into my kiss, but her resistance all but disappears. I suppose I can go further now. “Don’t make me tie you to a chair, Z.”

“And watch you struggle to make applesauce alone? Seriously? Do you not see the disconnection there?”

I can’t help but laugh. I adore that smart mouth, wouldn’t change it for the world. “Your wrist hurts. You’ve overworked it.”

Zoey swallows, her eyes dropping. “So what? I still want to use it.”

“It needs rest.”

“You don’t get it,” she murmurs. “It doesn’t get better. It always starts to hurt about an hour into whatever I’m doing. Right now it’s just a little stiff.”

I bring her injured hand to my lips and kiss it, my stomach sinking. My admiration for her strength increases yet again. “I’ve pushed through pain a lot myself. You shouldn’t have to live that way.”

“Well, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” I correct her. “I’ve looked into it. You can get it reset. It would take a while to heal, but—”

“I’m not stupid,” she snaps. “You think I haven’t looked into that, too?” My anger at her outburst flares, but I force myself to let it slide. She must realize she’s walking a line, though, her eyes widening as she draws in a quick breath. “It’s a complicated procedure,” she continues. “If they mess it up… they could tear nerves or tendons… I might end up not being able to use it at all.”

“I would never let that happen,” I inform her. “You would see the best specialist on the face of the earth.”

Zoey stares up at me with a dumbfounded expression. “My crappy health insurance isn’t going to cover that.”

I release her when she pulls away this time. She doesn’t dare go back to chopping, though. “Zoey, I would pay for—”

“Stop dangling this Cinderella story in front of my face, Shane. I don’t need any bribes to want to screw you.”

That’s not it. She knows better than to let herself get her hopes up. That’s essentially lesson one when you’re an abandoned child in the system. Z starts loading apples into the food processor, refusing to look in my direction. I do not want to argue. “What if I’m investing in your future instead?”

“How would that work?” she answers quickly. There’s no way she’s not interested in my offer. Her trust in me is the real issue.

“You have a gift, Z. I’m a venture capitalist. I find talent, I nourish it, and then I take a cut of the profits.”

“So I’d pay you back?” The tone of her voice rises and now I’m the one getting my hopes up. I might want this more than she does. It’s the only part of her brutal past that I can actually fix.

“Not necessarily. Your success would pay me back, or it wouldn’t. I’ve lost money on deals before. It’s always a gamble.” My blade drives through an apple with a loud chop that cuts through the silence.

“I’ll think about it,” she whispers, rubbing her wrist.

I drop the subject entirely. There’s no point pushing her, not for this. We move on with our project with a determination for perfection that few other people understand about me, let alone share. But we also flirt. Laugh. Kiss. Then we eat our flawless creation before I fuck her ruthlessly and watch her fall asleep in my arms.

Could this be my life? Is it really possible that I might come home to this every single day? That I might slip inside of her and feel her shudder, hear her scream for me, every single night?

I wake up in the morning and find her sitting up in bed, playing with that art tablet. No, not playing. Working. She’s made several patterns that she’ll try to recreate in a glaze on her pottery. Yawning, I flip on the news as my phone rings.

Marlowe was arrested last night. Zoey’s paintbrush drops along with my stomach as we both watch a video of his house being raided. Shit. There goes my excuse for keeping her here. The empire has officially crumbled.

“Are you there?” My brother Adam’s voice though the phone I hadn’t realized I picked up brings me back to reality.

“Yes.”

“Someone fucking flipped on him.”

“That was bound to happen,” I reply, watching Z go back to painting as if nothing has happened.

“Shane, I wanted to…”

“I know. It’s better this way.” For him at least. The last thing Adam needs is to reach his full potential in the violence department.

“I won’t let this go. I can’t.”

“You don’t have a choice. It’s over, Adam. It’s finally over.”

His next breath borders on a growl and he hangs up the phone. I glance over at the object of my affection, trying to read her. She’s conflicted. I’m not.

I don’t want to hear her say it, but she does anyway. “I want to go home.”

I can’t tell if she actually means it. Girls always say no when they mean yes. But it doesn’t matter, because she asked me to do something and I don’t have it in me to refuse her. It’s not worth losing her forever.