Their Vicious Darling (Vicious Lost Boys #3)(11)

He looks over at me and his gaze sinks to my mouth.

“I missed you,” he admits.

“More than the sun?” I counter.

He laughs and brings my hand to his mouth and gently kisses the backside. “I’ve missed the light and I’ve missed the warmth, but both pale in comparison to you, Darling.”

“You get your shadow back and now you’re a romantic?” I’m teasing him, but hearing the seriousness in his voice is making my stomach swim.

There is no way to tame a man like Peter Pan and yet I feel like I’ve been gifted a part of him that no one else has and that might be the most profound thing I’ve ever possessed when I’ve possessed so little.

“Romantic,” he says with a dismissive air. “In the light, I will treat you like a queen, but in the dark, you will be my whore.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “I’d like that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Very much.”

His gaze is turning hungry, his touch on my skin more demanding and I can’t help but react to him because I am always reacting to him.

Doubly so, right now, apparently. Because I can feel his growing desire. It’s not just vibrating on the air, but somehow sinking into my belly and my chest and between my legs.

“I know you’re enjoying your first sunrise in like eons, but how would you feel about returning to the dark for a little while?” I ask.

On a breath, his nostrils flare and then he’s crashing into me, his mouth on mine. His kiss is devouring and his tongue darts out to meet me, then pushes in, tasting all of me.

“To have you without my shadow was a divine treat,” he says against my mouth and then kisses me again, nipping at my bottom lip. “To have you with my shadow might very well undo me.” He pushes me back into the sand and covers my body with his. He’s hard in an instant, digging against me and I realize I’m relieved that he still wants me even though he no longer needs a Darling to save him.

I rip off his shirt and he tears off my dress. I let my hands wander over every hard ridge of his body. He is made of stone, his skin hot as the sun warms us both.

“I want to fuck you while the sun rises,” he says.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I ask a little breathless.

He unzips his pants and I immediately feel the burn of his cock at my opening.

My belly swims as our kiss deepens and he thrusts inside of me.

I gasp.

“Already so wet for me, Darling,” he says, sounding impressed.

He thrusts again and picks up his tempo, fucking me hard into the sand, his cock thick inside of me and then— He stops and pulls out of me, leaving me instantly chilled and hollow.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He wraps his arms around me and lifts me into the air.

“Oh my god! Pan!” I tighten my hold around his neck as he flies us back to the house and into the kitchen.

We burst through the doors. He walks me back into the nearest wall and lifts me up, guiding my legs around his hips. He fucks me against the wall, grunting into me with each thrust. Then he carries us away, turns into the next room, bumps into the table and sends a vase toppling to its side. Water spills off the edge.

His mouth finds mine again and our tongues slide over one another, heat and hunger and destruction in one long breath.

But then he bumps into the coffee table, spins us at the last second so when we land on the floor, it’s he on his back and me impaled on his cock.

And then we look up to find Vane in one of the leather chairs, a book open in his lap, a glass of something dark in his hand.

I wiggle my hips like I mean to lift off Pan, but he catches me around the waist and keeps me on his cock. “Ah-ah,” he warns.

Vane’s eyes are suddenly black.

“Enjoying yourself, are you, Darling?” Vane asks, but there’s a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“I would be enjoying myself more if you joined us.”

Pan lifts me just a few inches off of him, then pushes me roughly back down eliciting a squeak from my throat.

Vane sits forward. “Why weren’t you in the tomb?”

“Vane,” Pan says, the head of his dick swelling at my center. “I’m buried inside our Darling. Must we do this now?”

“Answer the question, Winnie Darling,” Vane says.

“I can’t remember,” I say.

Vane stands up, grabs me by the throat and rips me off of Pan. Pan growls his frustration.

“Why did you disregard my order?” Vane’s shadow rumbles in the back of his throat.

I wrap my hand around his wrist trying to get some leverage on him. I’m on my tiptoes and completely naked. I don’t have much to play with here.

When Vane’s dark eyes land on me, I tense up, ready for the terror, the unease, the nausea rolling in my gut.

But there is none.

And Vane’s gaze narrows to slits. “Are you bleeding?” he asks and looks me up and down.

“No.”

“Then how are you withstanding the terror?”

“Maybe she’s learned to ignore your bullshit,” Pan says behind me.

“No one learns to withstand me.”

Pan puts his chest to my back and slowly pulls me away from Vane and replaces Vane’s hand with his, his long fingers halfway around my throat.