Defiance (9 page)

She ran her palms over his clean shoulders and she let her hands linger over his back.

She wanted to kiss the wing of the MC tattoo that licked his shoulder, but that would be pushing everything.

“Is this okay?” she asked instead. Caspar nodded, but barely. She moved around to face him, used a fresh cloth to stroke his face, unscarred side first and then she carefully cleaned the scar.

He watched her face the entire time, his expression unreadable. He watched her, his eyes heavy lidded. Lazy. “Might as well do the whole thing.”

A challenge—a dare. She had no bond with him other than her word.

Her pulse raced but she played it cool.

The front of her T-shirt had gotten wet—it clung to her breasts and her nipples were hard. She wanted him to touch them, but she also didn’t want to stop touching him.

She went lower, soaping his chest, his cock, his thighs with the soap. He was hard and she didn’t shy away from that. Liked the way he jumped when she grazed a finger over the ring in the tip of his cock. It was big and heavy, a dusky, beautiful column rising up from between his legs. The water made his muscles shine and ripple with a life of their own.

He was still hard but she wanted to get him clean, wipe the night off him. When she was done rinsing him, she asked, “Can I wash your hair?”

“I’ll just go back into the shower,” he said in a gruff tone that told her he liked the idea on some level.

“I don’t mind.”

He shrugged again and she took it as a yes. His hair was longer than it had been when they were young, still white blond despite the lack of sun. It was tied with some kind of leather lace and he wasn’t moving away toward the shower.

She loosened his hair and he tilted his head back. His features relaxed when she massaged the soap through his hair. He might’ve even smiled for a fleeting second. Because of that, she took her time, massaging his temples, digging her fingertips along his scalp to relieve tension.

At one point, he groaned. She supported his neck so he could be comfortable.

Finally, reluctantly, she poured the water over his head, rinsing the soap away. The light from the overhead shined on them as the water ran between her toes.

From the moment she’d seen him again, she’d known she hadn’t wanted to wait.

Because he wouldn’t wait. If he didn’t get sex from her, he’d find it somewhere else. “If you won’t bond with me...” she started, then stopped as he stared at her. “Look, I know what you like, especially after a fight. I don’t want you going to someone else.”

He stared at her. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“I announced I wanted to be with you.”

“And?”

“Why won’t you bond with me? I don’t understand—you killed for me.”

“Bonding’s different than killing, Tru. Killing I’ve done. Bonding, never. Requires a lot more thought on my end.”

For all intents and purposes, she’d been claimed, but knew it was more about him protecting her, less about him wanting her.

She wanted the latter. She’d had protection and it had gotten her nowhere.

“You didn’t try to stop me when you dropped me off at the train station,” she whispered.

“No point.”

“Why’s that?”

“Don’t force myself on a woman. Never have.”

“Right, they all come to you.” Just like she had.

He shrugged, like it was the way it had always been for him. “Just because they come for me doesn’t mean anything. Some come because they’re horny. Some because they think I’ve got power.”

“Do you?” He didn’t answer, but the set of his shoulders told her the answer. “I’m coming to you because I want you, Caspar.”

“It’s different now, Tru. Not talkin’ about the Chaos. Talkin’ about me.”

“I know you are.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I’m not what—who—you think,” he said evenly. “You remember how things were between us. I’m not like that. Not sweet or gentle.”

“For me, you were.”

“Yeah. So if you want that, you’re not getting it. The guy who had sex with you that night, that wasn’t me.”

She stared up at him. His eyes were dark—lust, anger, all mixed up. “I know you’re violent. Dangerous.”

“Good.”

“What do you want to do to me?”

He barked a short laugh but he surprised her by grabbing her shoulders, pushing her to the wall. “What I wanted that night was to rip your clothes off. Make you suck my cock, see your soft, pretty mouth close around it. Naked. Kneeling at my feet.”

She was barely breathing, was wet just listening to him talk.

He mistook her silence for something it wasn’t—fear, reticence—and he cursed. Pushed away.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” she forced out.

“You don’t have to pretend. I can’t live that way.”

“And if I could, I’d be with Roan or Padraic.”

He nodded, conceding that point. “Still, Tru—”

“I’m innocent, you said. But maybe I’m not. Maybe I was pretending too, because I was so scared of the things I wanted you to do to me. The things I wanted to do with you.”

“You’ve survived this long because you’re a good liar.”

“Yes. But you’d know if what you said didn’t excite me. There are things I can’t fake.”

He took his hands, skimmed down her hips, a finger brushing the outside of her underwear. She should’ve been embarrassed at how wet she was. But she couldn’t be. “Told you.”

“You think you could handle it, pretty baby?”

God, she melted when he called her that, the way she had the night she’d boldly kissed him in Silas’s backyard.

She was dirtier than any of them—had always wanted to find the man who could understand that, not slap her for it.

These men wanted their women to sleep with them, suck them, but they didn’t want the women to necessarily like it. Sure, there wasn’t an embarrassment factor for sex now—it was considered a commodity, to barter and trade with. No one was ashamed of it, but the general consensus was that men needed it and women should give it. “You know I can handle you, Cas.”

“Don’t.”

Whether that was for using Cas or expressing the assertion that she could handle him, she didn’t know. She ignored the danger signs, pushed forward. “You know there’s something between us. Always was. Me asking to bond with you shouldn’t be a surprise to you.”

“Don’t you dare come along and make me try to believe in something again. Don’t you dare.”

His voice shook. His eyes were stony. She should back away if she were smart. But she was also brave so she moved into him. A hand on his chest, another on his cheek, touched the light blond rough stubble.

“Don’t,” he warned again, but he didn’t push her away.

“You can’t give up on me now.”

“I already did that, a long time ago.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You didn’t know me, Tru. Never did.”

“But you know me. And I’m not giving up—I won’t give up enough for both of us.”

He muttered—mainly curses—under his breath. She ran a fingertip over his lips.

“You’re going to undo me,” he murmured finally.

“And then I’ll put you back together.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“I do. You want someone to stand by you while you try to fix everything here. You told me.”

His eyes flickered, a little surprised. “You were too drunk to remember anything that night.”

She smiled, trailed her hand along to cup the back of his neck. “I remember everything about the time we spent together.”

He waited a beat, a muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched it, his eyes searching hers. Looking for something that she knew she could give him. “That was before,” he told her finally.

With that, he did pull away. She’d lost him again but for more than a brief moment, she’d had him. She just had to prove that there was hope.

But first, she had to make sure
she
believed it.

She started to get on her knees but he stopped her, his fingers pressing her hips, keeping her upright. “I need to prove to you that I’m not the same, either.”

“Yeah, you are, Tru. Same exact.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or grateful and settled on a mixture of both. His hands wrapped around the back of her thighs, and her sex grew wetter from just that simple touch. Her nipples chafed against the wet cotton.

Tell me to take everything off.

Maybe it showed on her face. Maybe she’d even said it out loud, but his eyes grew heavy lidded. His cock was erect, although it hadn’t seemed to go down even after he’d come in the shower.

“Take your shirt off, Tru. Now.”

She didn’t hesitate. Took the T-shirt off and tossed it to the floor. She hadn’t bothered with a bra and she stood naked, half trembling, half proud under Caspar’s heavy-lidded gaze. And then a lazy, pleased smile crossed his face as he pulled her back close to him. His fingers slid slowly along her sex. She gasped, her eyes widening as his cool fingers touched her warmth.

“So wet, baby,” he said, his voice husky. “That all for me?”

“Yes.”

“So busy lashing out, fighting. Got an agenda of your own. Where do I fit? You threw my name out there. Need to do more than just say my name.”

“I will.”

His fingers stroked her, fast then slow, and she moaned, unable to help it. Not wanting to. “Why did you wait so long to let me fuck you, Tru?”

“I wasn’t...ready. For you.”

God, she’d dreamed of what those fingers could do. She was trapped, a prisoner to him. “But then you were ready. And you left.”

“You...had to go.”

“Didn’t ask me to stay.”

And there it was. She bit back a groan as his finger entered her. “I didn’t think you wanted me. I thought...another notch in your belt. Maybe you were getting back at everyone. You were so angry.”

“Not with you. Not that night.” His fingers continued playing inside of her, and she couldn’t see straight. “Why’d you finally come back? Just because he’s gone?”

“Yes.”

“Why’d you finally come back?” He urged another answer and she was unable to lie. There was no reason to play games, no reason with Caspar at all.

There never had been. “You. I came back for you, dammit. But I’d never have come back sooner. I wouldn’t put you in that position, make you responsible for killing another MC member for me. I knew you’d kill Hugh for me. I knew that. I didn’t want to put you in that position.”

He stilled at her words, as if he’d never realized that had been a consideration of hers.

He was angry again, but this time, she was sure it wasn’t directed at her. Not after he slid off the bench onto his knees, his face close to her sex. “Pull them down,” he ordered.

There was no saying no. She didn’t want to. She’d been outside, thought she’d gotten tough, experienced a lot.

And she had. She’d simply forgotten how much Caspar had experienced too. How dangerous and damaged he was. And how that combination made her so willing and wanton for him.

She didn’t expect what happened next, but Caspar was on his knees on the hard tile. He murmured, “Pretty baby,” before he buried his face between her legs.

He licked her cleft while he looked up at her, his icy blue eyes wicked. His hands steadied her, holding her hips and she had nothing to grab onto but him. One hand curled in his hair, tugging and tightening her grip as his tongue grew more insistent. She looked down; he looked up at her and licked her cleft in a long stroke, and then pressed his tongue there hard.

She jolted, but there was nowhere to go with his strong grip. He took her with his mouth until she came, hard, against him. And it wasn’t enough.

He still held her hips as he stood then.

“Don’t you stop, Caspar—don’t you dare.” She climbed him, wrapped her naked body against his. “Come on. Need more.”

“Greedy,” he murmured.

“Yes.”

“Bed then. Hands and knees,” he told her and she did what he asked, crawling onto the bed, her ass in the air.

He paused then. Put a gentle kiss on her shoulder, ran a hand down her back while she waited, exposed to him.

She swore she heard him growl, which made the desire pulse through her harder.

“Thought about this,” he murmured.

“Me too.”

He splayed her legs farther apart before his fingers took her. “Fuck yourself on them,” he said and she dropped her head, her cheeks burning. And she did exactly what he asked, reveling in the sensations.

He twisted his fingers so they hit her perfectly, enough to send a flare of an impending orgasm through her. One of his arms was twisted around her waist, meant to keep her where she was. It was also stopping her from rocking as relentlessly as she wanted.

“Please, Caspar...”

“Gonna have to beg better than that for my cock.”

She would. Shamelessly. Didn’t matter that her face was red and hot. Her blood thrummed for Cas—always had.

He’d been right—he wasn’t anywhere near as gentle as he’d been that first night.

He’d forgotten, because he’d started drinking too, but he hadn’t been all that gentle. He’d taken her slowly at first, gauging her reaction. But the last two times he’d taken her that night had been a rough, wonderful ride for her, her ass slamming into the blankets. She recalled yelling
Cas
and, hearing it echo in the night.

Now, she cried out
Cas
again, and he didn’t try to stop her from using the nickname. It echoed around them and she hoped it leaked through the windows, out to the compound so everyone would know who and what she wanted.

Finally, he moved behind her. She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper and then his cock breached her. She was already open and wet but it still hurt. He wasn’t letting her touch him, not since she’d cleaned him and he’d warned her about his inability to be gentle.

Her hands fisted on the blankets in front of her as he buried himself inside of her. She drew in a long, shuddering breath as he moved back and forth and any pain she’d felt began to morph into pure pleasure. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew how to please a woman—but tonight, he was pleasing her.

From now on, she’d make sure she was the only one in his bed. She pushed back against his strokes, using her hips, her back swaying as she attempted to take him in as deep as she could.