Hooked: A Dark, Contemporary Romance (Never After #1)(39)

He collapses on top of me, his fingers loosening from my wrists, and I swear to God in this moment, I’ve never felt closer to anyone than I do to him.

This man I’ve only known for days, yet he treats me like I’m precious.

Like I’m his.

His breathing is ragged, his face resting in the crook of my neck, and my hands come up to his head, stroking down his hair and over the tops of his shoulders. He shivers under my touch, and I smile, my heart swelling.

I was worried I’d regret allowing him to take my virginity, but all I feel is relief that it’s gone.

James took that fragile girl and threw her somewhere I can’t find, and at least for now, I’m basking in her absence.





22





James





It’s been years since my mind has been quiet. Even longer since I’ve been able to relax, even in the comfort of my own home. But last night, I fell deep into a dreamless sleep, and woke up wrapped around Wendy’s curves.

I hadn’t planned to come inside her. But the thought of her swelling with my child right in front of her father’s eyes—right before I slit his throat, had my balls tightening and cum shooting out of my tip before I could even finish the fantasy.

She unhinges me in a way I don’t quite understand. But I enjoy the dreamless nights and the comfort she provides upon waking.

I lean down, breathing in her scent, my cock thickening against her backside. She stirs in my arms, murmuring something as her eyes flutter open.

My chest pulls. “Good morning, darling.”

She grins, her face still slack from sleep, and raises her arms above her head, stretching. The movement pushes her body into mine, causing blood to rush to my groin.

I want to take her again.

Harder this time. But I resist, knowing she must be sore. Surprisingly, the thought of her in pain does nothing to excite me.

“Morning?” She shoots up in bed, running a hand through her tangled hair. “What time is it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You don’t have a clock?” Her forehead scrunches.

My jaw clenches. “I haven’t been too worried about the time since there’s something much more important in my bed.”

Her frantic movements stall, pink flooding her cheeks. “Oh,” she whispers.

I lean in, pressing my lips to hers. “Yes. Oh.”

Her body melts into mine as she peers at me through her lashes. “I have to go. I promised my brother I’d take him to his new school today.”

Brother.

I’ve known about him, of course, but it occurs to me that Wendy doesn’t realize that, so I lift my brows in what I hope is a surprised expression, tilting my head the slightest amount. “Brother?”

“Yeah.” She laughs, shaking her head. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget we don’t actually know each other well.”

My arms wrap around her waist, pulling her into my chest. “I feel as though we got to know each other fairly well last night.” My teeth nip her ear.

She giggles. “You know what I mean.” She turns in my arms, looking up at me. “Do you have any siblings?”

Ice trickles through my veins, freezing out any lingering warmth. “No family, I’m afraid. Just me.”

Her gaze bounces from my eyes to my lips, and back. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

I brush off her concern. “Don’t be, darling. Family couldn’t handle the likes of me, anyway.”

Her mouth turns down, but she doesn’t push. I’m thankful for it, not wanting to come up with an elaborate story of how I loved and lost, when the reality is it was her family who took mine away.

“My brother is sixteen, and he’s starting a new school today,” she says.

“Which school?”

Her face pinches. “Some boarding school outside of the city. He says he’s fine with it, but...” She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “He doesn’t have the best experience with other kids. And I don’t want him to be stuck living at a place where he can’t get away from the torment.” Her eyes grow glassy, and I reach out, wiping away a stray tear.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I’m crying so much around you.” She wipes her cheeks. “I promise I’m not like this all the time.”

“Don’t apologize. I want to be the one you turn to when life gets hard.”

Her eyes gain a curious sheen, and she leans in, kissing me softly. Small, simple pecks, but they make my stomach tighten all the same.

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” The words are out of my mouth before I can think them through, and I bite back the cringe that wants to work its way onto my face. Why would I offer that?

Her eyes light up like the fourth of July, her fingers grasping the fabric of my shirt. “Would you? I—” She swallows. “That would be really nice. Plus, then you’d get to meet Jon.”

I force a smile, mentally berating myself for offering something I truly don’t have time to give. But I can’t pull out now, and if it provides her with a modicum of extra support and comfort—the type that her father is so clearly not providing—I’ll do it.





I’m standing in the middle of Peter Michaels’s home.