Claimed: Chapter 17

Carven suddenly heaved me upwards until I landed over his shoulder. My heart lunged, trapped in my throat as he headed to the doorway, then stopped.

I gripped his arm, holding onto his rock-hard muscles, and lifted my head, finding London behind us.

“London.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to come too.”

One brow rose as London met my panicked stare. “Of course.”

Still, that didn’t ease the tension inside me. Carven wouldn’t hurt me, that I was sure of…but he’d never taken me into that room.

Long strides made me bounce against his shoulder. London was a blur behind us, still he was there, holding my stare, until I couldn’t hold my body up anymore and eased my hold. I flopped back down, my hand around his bicep as he headed to the east wing and past our bedrooms.

I hadn’t been in this room, not with London, or by myself. But the moment Carven turned the handle and stepped in, the basement in our other house came rushing back to me.

The smell of leather was the same. The cold air made my nerves hum. Lights flicked on, softly illuminating the room. Strong hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down. I slid along his body until he stopped the fall, easing my feet to the floor.

Those blue eyes searched mine. Stark blond hair, an unflinching stare. Carven made even the biggest men I knew uncomfortable by his presence alone. ‘The Son.’ That name was spoken by a few, but those who spoke it knew exactly what they were. Yet this killer stood in front of me now, soft and vulnerable.

He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You trust me, right, Wildcat?”

There was that edge in his voice. That hunger that always made me hesitate before I answered. I felt that hunger now more than ever. This wasn’t about comfort. This was about control, and right now, Carven was spiraling. He needed this, needed to control something for just a moment. He needed to find his way back to himself, and he was going to use my body to do it. I met those deep blue eyes. “With my life.”

He lowered his head until he whispered into my ear. “What about your body, Wildcat? You going to trust me with that?”

My pulse skipped in response and my core tightened. I didn’t need to reach between my legs to know the impact those words had on me. “Yes.”

He gripped my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “Fuck, you’re dangerous.”

Dangerous…me?

I didn’t want to look at his hands, didn’t want to see the blood etched into the corners of his nails, or see the faces of those he’d killed in his stare. Yet I held that stare and realized he wasn’t talking about me being dangerous to everyone else.

Only to him.

I was dangerous to him.

He reached down, snatched my wrist, and jerked it upward as London stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“It’s about her in this room,” he murmured. “All about her. Whatever you’re feeling, it no longer matters. Not in this room. Your control comes in her release. Find out what makes her wet. Her body will guide you.”

“I know what makes her wet,” Carven snarled, never once taking his eyes from mine.

“Do you?” London stepped closer, being careful not to touch me.

This was all for Carven.

“Do you know how to crawl under her skin? How to make her wet tomorrow, a week from now, a year from now just remembering what you did to her? I do. You’re all raw power, you’re all stamina. Look deep into her soul, see what she sees. Take her, rip her clothes off, pull her hair if she moans, spread her legs…and let her feel why you’re the animal she wants and needs. Fuck her, protect her. Be everything for her.”

My breath caught with those words. I’d never heard London talk like that, never heard him so…fierce. Was that how he felt? I wanted to find the truth in his stare, but I didn’t dare move. Not now. Not when Carven’s grip was a vise around my wrist.

He sucked in hard breaths, then lowered his gaze to the black shirt I wore. “You want me to tear your clothes off, Wildcat? Want me to be an animal?”

“Yes.”

There was a twitch at the corner of his mouth before he released my wrist and dropped his hand to his waist. One flick and the light bounced off the steel blade.

“How about I cut them off instead?”

He slipped the tip of the blade under the hem of my shirt. One sudden jerk and the fabric split, slicing all the way. Panic ripped through me. My heart lunged, slamming against my ribs.

“Still trust me?” he asked, using the tip of the knife to flick each side of the ruined garment aside, exposing my pink bra.

“Yes.” My voice was husky.

“Liar,” he whispered, pushing the tip of the knife up the valley of my breasts, just under the lace.

He reached up and grasped the bridge between the cups, gripping it as he jerked the knife toward him and yanked me forward. Cold air rushed in and my nipples tightened from the icy whisper of air and excitement. My clit throbbed. I didn’t understand my emotions. If it was anyone else, I’d be terrified. But not them. Not my men.

Carven yanked, tearing the shredded shirt and bra free before casting them aside. I didn’t dare look to London as Carven lowered his gaze to my jeans. “Want me to cut those off too?”

I shook my head. “Why don’t you take me to the bed?”

There was a hint of a smile before he bent and grabbed me around the thighs once more, only this time with one arm. He carried me to the massive bed. London’s machine waited at the foot, the steel gleaming. Wind buffeted my hair as I was flung backward, hitting the bed with a bounce.

My boots were yanked free and tossed to the floor. The button on my jeans popped, and the zipper was yanked low before I even realized. I shoved my jeans over my hips, lifting my ass. In the blink of an eye, I was in nothing more than pink lace panties.

Carven loomed over the edge of the bed, staring down at me, the knife still in his hands. “What makes you wet, Wildcat?” he asked, before he slipped the knife in between his teeth and lunged, grasped both my ankles, and pulled me down the bed.

I thrashed in his grasp, my gaze riveted to that blade in his mouth. He reached up, took it in his hand, and lowered it between my legs. “Is it fear?” Cold steel pressed against my skin, the tip gently dragging along my slit.

I didn’t dare move. I pinned my lip with my teeth, closing my eyes at the fine pressure.

“Open them,” he demanded. “Look at me.”

I did, finding that icy stare. He said I was dangerous. But Carven was the deadliest male I knew. He killed without thinking and with little to no remorse. He strangled, he beat, he stabbed and shot. He unleashed that never-ending pit of fury through his hands and yet as he lowered his gaze to the tip of the knife he pressed against my clit, I also knew deep down he loved just as savagely.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you with everything I have.”

He jerked his gaze to mine. Panic flared for a second before that darkness rose to snatch it away. It was that darkness that called to me. That darkness I craved.

“That’s good, Wildcat.” He eased the tip of the knife to the side and pressed, slipping it under the elastic at the side. “Good for the both of us. Because I love you too, and my love is forever.” I jerked as he sliced through the lace. His fingers traced the cut, yanking the rest of the lace out before he cut the rest of the way through. “Now, let’s see if I made you wet, shall we?” His finger slipped into the crease and slid all the way down until he pushed inside. “Look at that.”

He eased his finger free, lifting it to shine in the light. “How’s that, London?” He looked at the man who’d raised him. “Was I animal enough?”

London just cleared his throat. “Do you want the machine, pet?”

I shifted my gaze to him at the foot of the bed, watching as he pulled the case free of the machine, then extracted the dildo and connected it. My core clenched at the sight, leaving Carven to slide his fingers back inside, feeling the slick. “Christ, I think that’s a yes.”

Snap.

The attachment slid into place. I lifted my arms over my head on instinct, giving over to them.

“Move her over,” London commanded.

Strong hands slipped under my back and thighs, dragging me across the bed. Carven reached up and grasped my throat gently as the whirr of the machine started, making me catch my breath.

“You like this, Wildcat?” he asked, staring deep into my eyes. “You like giving yourself to us?”

“Yes.”

His smile tugged. “Anything I want?”

“Anything.”

He glanced over his shoulder and gave a nod. The sound of the machine came closer, but I couldn’t look. The look on Carven’s face gripped me as he watched the dildo press against my core and slip inside. I released a moan as the cold silicone drove inside me, then eased back out.

Carven glanced back at me. “Again?”

I nodded, and the pressure came again, only this time it didn’t pull all the way out before it drove back in again. The Son gripped the inside of my thigh, widening my legs as he watched. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he growled, slipping his finger along my slit as I was invaded. “I’m fucking hard just watching this.”

A memory tore through me.

Him standing at the end of the sofa last night, watching us. Him, me, and Colt together was one thing. But he’d never shown an interest in…this.

“Harder,” Carven demanded, sliding his fingers either side of the intrusion.

I bucked as the dildo rammed all the way inside. “Oh, fuck.” I slammed my eyes closed, screwing them tight.

I couldn’t stop that drugging wave from rising inside me, and pumped my hips upwards.

“Turn on your side, Wildcat,” he urged, his voice strange as he fumbled with his jeans.

I did when the dildo slipped all the way free. Carven gripped my ass and leaned in close before he spat. Wetness hit the crease of my ass. He dragged the slick down, then pushed inside the opening.

“Again,” he demanded.

I panted as I clenched around his finger. He gripped my knee, holding my leg up, watching as it invaded me once more.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, his finger deep inside me. “I can feel it.”

I closed my eyes, my hips thrusting. “I can’t stop.”

“Then let’s not make you wait, baby,” he urged, sliding his finger free before he spat once more.

I pushed back against the head of his cock, feeling the dildo slowly slide in.

“Breathe, pet,” London urged, his tone silken.

I exhaled and, on the brink, felt Carven push against me.

“Stretch for me, Wildcat,” he grunted.

My pussy clenched, that edge coming closer, so close I could…

“Jesus,” Carven moaned as he slipped the head of his cock inside.

They worked together, pushing me to that edge of oblivion. Colt’s face filled my mind as I cried out, fisting the silken sheets of the bed. “Not yet, baby.” Carven gripped my leg, slowly pushing all the way inside.

I thrashed my head, unable to stop my body from giving in.

“Come, pet,” London growled, standing over me. “Come.”

I met those dark eyes, crying out as my pussy clenched around the dildo, flutters slammed into me, and my body bucked in response.

“Oh…fuck,” Carven growled, driving into me.

The machine whirred, and the dildo slipped out, leaving a trail of slick heat behind. One push and I was face-down on the bed. Carven’s hands gripped my hips, pulling me up to my knees. “Open your knees, baby. That’s the way.”

I turned my head, finding London as Carven pushed all the way in.

“Look at that perfect ass stretch,” London murmured, glancing from Carven’s cock to my eyes. “Such a good girl for us. Let us use you. Let us take what we need. Look how good you’re doing.”

I panted, moaning as my body shuddered and shook. Deep spasms rocked my core as Carven drove deep inside and gave a grunt, stilling deep inside me. My knees clenched together as I clamped around him. Warmth filled me, until exhaustion hit me, leaving me to slump against the bed.

“Jesus.” Carven slid out, collapsing on top of me. “That was fucking intense.”

“Take care of her tonight.” London leaned down, brushing his curled finger down my cheek. “She’s done so well.”

“You want that, baby?” Carven murmured against my back. “Want to sleep with me? Let me take care of you?”

The truth echoed in London’s stare.

This is what the son needed.

Not just sex. But someone to look after. Someone to care for.

I slowly nodded while keeping London’s stare. “Yes. I do.”

One hard groan and Carven’s weight lifted from me. I turned as he slid his hands under, lifting me to his chest. My arms wrapped around me.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he whispered as he headed for the door.

London opened it and stepped aside. We were out in an instant, making our way into Carven’s bathroom.

He jostled me against him when he hit the light.

“You can put me down,” I said, smiling.

He was so damn sweet and awkward, giving me a grin. “I’ll get the water going.”

I let him wash me. Let him dry me. Let him dress me in one of his oversized shirts before he pulled me to his bed.

“You’re not going to hit me in your sleep again, are you?” I muttered, sliding between the familiar sheets.

“Probably.” He gave a chuff. “But I give you full permission to hit me right back.”

Look out…was that actually a joke?

I said nothing, slipping down beside him.

“You liked that tonight?” he asked, pulling me down to rest my head against his chest, his arm wrapped around me.

“Yes,” I answered. “Did you?”

He didn’t answer for a long time, then carefully, “Yeah, I think I did.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Doesn’t mean there’ll be any sword crossing, so get that out of your head. I’m not fucking my father.”

I have a soft chuckle. “I’m sure London will be heartbroken.”

“Asshole,” he muttered as sleep filled his tone.

But he kept true to his word, holding me all night. In that moment, our world wasn’t filled with desolate sadness. For a second, we held onto each other.

I YAWNED, still feeling heavy with sleep as I neared the doorway with a steaming cup of coffee in my hand. But my mind was already turning to where we were searching today. These torturous days blurred into one.

We searched. We hunted. We threatened, but still we had nothing.

But those words stilled me cold. She’s not going to like it?

I scowled as I stepped into the doorway, watching as the powerful male jerked those dark eyes to me, then mumbled. “Okay, leave it with me. I need to go.”

“What’s she not going to like?” I asked as he lowered his phone.

He averted his gaze. That was never a good sign. “London?”

He gave a hard sigh, then turned to me. “You know I told you we make alliances when we need to?”

My stomach dropped. All I thought about was those men who’d held me down on that desk in Killion’s study. If he meant relying on any of those…

“Helene King is coming in to help us coordinate.” The words were rapidly out of his mouth.

I flinched. My frantic thoughts of Killion and his buddies froze. “Helene King…you mean?”

London rose from his seat. “Your biological sister.”

Ryth filled my head. She was my sister, the only one I knew. “She’s coming here?”

Tires crunched outside in the driveway, the faint sound drawing my gaze as London answered. “Not coming, pet. She’s here.”

“Who’s here?” Carven muttered behind me.

I turned, glancing over my shoulder. “My sister.”

He froze, scowled, then stepped into the doorway. “What the fuck, London?”

London just rose from his seat and stepped past us to stand just inside the doorway before he stopped. “This changes nothing.”

Changes nothing? I glanced at Carven, watching as a savage flicker of rage passed through his stare. Helene King was the one person who’d given London what he’d wanted all this time. She’d given him her father…no, our father, remember? So if she was here, if we were suddenly making ‘alliances’ with her, did that mean…London has already met my father, Weylen King?

I flinched as the locks to the back door snapped open and London’s low voice echoed along the hall. My pulse thudded. Suddenly, I was self-conscious, brushing down the freshly washed strands of my hair. Black jeans and a black t-shirt weren’t what I’d imagined wearing when I met my sister. But I wasn’t here for a family reunion, no matter how awkward that would be. I was ready to search abandoned houses and empty buildings for the man I loved.

Footsteps echoed along the hall. I lifted my gaze the moment London entered, and she followed behind him. The woman who looked exactly like me. Heat flooded my cheeks. I was aware of everything, the way she strode into the room, scanning the study…until those brown eyes settled on me.

“Vivienne,” she murmured carefully, taking a step toward me and reaching out her hand.

Until Carven moved, stepping in front of me. “I don’t think so.”

A flash of anger tore across London’s face, then disappeared. Carven turned to her, but still stood in front of me as he met Helene’s stare. “I don’t trust you. I sure as hell don’t fucking like you. You make a move toward Vivienne, and I’m going to take that as a threat. You feel me?”

She lowered her hand; her gaze flicking to me before she turned back to Carven. “I understand. You’re still sore about what happened in the boatyard.”

“Sore?” he snarled, then took a step closer. “You almost cost me her fucking life. Do you get that?”

She flinched, her face growing pale. “Yes, that’s why I’m here.” I’d give her one thing, she was ballsy meeting that savage glare from the Son without flinching. “We’re on the same side here.”

“Where have I heard that before?”

She didn’t rise to the bait, just gave a soft nod. “I need to earn your trust. I get that. I’m here, ready to join forces to search for your brother. Every second we stand here arguing about alliances is a second too long. You know that. I know that. I don’t have to remind you what kind of hell he’s enduring right now.”

Carven moved closer, until he was nose to nose, his tone chilling. “No, you don’t.”

“Good,” she answered, turning to London. “I have new intel coming in any day now. So how about we get to work?”