Run From Me (Barbed Wire Hearts #2)

16. Calliope

SIXTEEN

calliope

My entire body burned as I glared at the asshole standing in front of me.

“You seriously just went there?”

Xander was menacing on a good day, but the black of his pupils seemed to take over his irises as I let the cat go and approached him. The wet T-shirt I wore was a welcome coolness to the anger burning in me like an inferno of hell.

“You seriously just accused me of selling myself to the Vipers? Do you have any idea why they branded me? Why they brand anyone instead of killing them?”

Xander stepped forward and met me toe to toe.

“No, because I don’t fucking run with those archaic assholes, now do I? I’m guessing you at least played hard to earn that shit,” he spat back.

My entire body was shaking as I tried to reason with myself. Reason? No. More like contain all the anger I’d been holding onto for far too long.

“They branded me because I’m property. Because I never willingly signed up to be part of their little club. They took me from my fucking bed the day after I got the job with the city. I hadn’t even moved out of the house my mother was squatting in with me. No. I’d come home to pack up anything that was still there and woke up to a bag over my head.”

He wasn’t talking, which was a first.

“What, Xander? You don’t have anything to say now? You don’t have words of pity for the poor girl sold out by her mother? The poor girl who hasn’t had freedom in years? The poor girl who gives up almost everything she earns to pay off debts she never racked up?”

I lifted the corner of my shirt, displaying the low set of my pants that allowed the brand to be clearly displayed.

“Don’t worry, Xander. You won’t have to worry about this anymore. I know my place. Thanks for the fuck and helping me wash my cat. It was fun to fuck around and find out what it was like to have someone oh so powerful between my legs.”

I took a step forward, forcing him to step back. I was on a roll.

“I just wanted to taste what it was like to have a big bad Spector’s cock. See if it was any better than all those Vipers I’m sure you think warm my bed. I get?—”

I gasped as his hand circled my throat and his lips claimed mine. More like consumed me. The anger burned hotter as his lips owned my mouth. His tongue demanded more from me, and his hand was just tight enough every breath that passed through my lips struggled to make it to my lungs. I wasn’t sure when we’d moved, but my back was now pressed against the wall, and his free hand wrapped around my hip, his fingers biting into my flesh.

The hollow feeling deep inside me disappeared with his feral, hungry kisses. I raised my hands against his chest, trying to push him away. I tried to hit him back, but he moved closer, pressing his massive body into me, and somehow the fight in me disappeared. Because this was everything. Nothing made sense. He didn’t want me. He’d ghosted me like everyone else in my life. But here he was kissing me, and I could just pretend for a few more minutes that this was what I wanted.

God, I wanted to feel him again.

Damn if seeing him kill for me again didn’t have me wanting everything.

I wanted to feel whatever peace seemed to fill me by being near him. If that wasn’t just a fucked up little idea. A man that didn’t want me for anything more than information seemed to calm all the aching in my soul. And that right there was why I was letting him in for one bad choice after another.

His lips retreated and the pressure around my neck lessened just a bit. Enough that I gasped in air while our eyes met. He was leaning down, and it felt like he could see inside my soul.

“No one will ever touch you again,” he said in what sounded like a growl.

This made no sense.

“Touch me? Like brand me?” I wanted to remind him they had already done it. There was no point in doing it again. And fuck if I never wanted to be in that position again.

“No. I don’t mean just branding you.”

Fuck, those eyes of his. Dark, menacing, and some kind of hell that I’d sign up to be tortured in.

“Well, big guy, I hate to burst your bubble.” I thrust my finger into his solid chest with every following word, like it made me powerful. “You. Don’t. Own. Me.”

His nostrils flared for a single moment. His hand was still wrapped around my throat, and when he leaned into me, stealing all the remaining space, his tongue licked along the ridge of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine and heat straight to my pussy.

“The fuck I don’t, Sparky.” His words were a mere whisper.

I went to protest, but his hand squeezed just tight enough to cut off my words, and why was I already wet? Why was his aggressive caveman bullshit such a damn turn-on? I’d get to unpack that shit the next time I could afford a therapist.

Instead? I fucking moaned as that other damn hand, which had no doubt left a bruise or five on my hip, moved and pressed against my clit through the thin leggings I was wearing.

“You have no idea, Calliope, what it means to be mine. I tried to warn you.”

I shuddered and not from fear. I wanted to poke the bear, so help me god. My voice was strained as I fought against his grip.

“I’m not yours, Xander.”

He shifted so I could see his face again, see all the unreadable, hard lines of someone I was certain earned his place in the Spectors through more than just some election.

I put my own mask on even as I fought against the damn moan that was fighting its way to my lips once he pressed just that much harder over my clit. It was like he knew my body better than even I did. He didn’t need to know that though. Or maybe the heat touching my cheeks said it all, but he wouldn’t be allowed to win.

I smirked. Because I’d lost my ever loving mind.

“Need a map, babe?”

Other than a muscle that ticked along his jaw he was unreadable.

“Hey,” I said, slamming my fists against his back as he threw me over his shoulder.

“You really think I need a map?”

His voice was dead flat, deep, and it should have set warning bells off, but it had me biting my lip as he stormed to my bedroom.

I bounced against my bed as he flopped me down. The leggings I’d worn for comfort were far too easy for him. His fingers were under the waistband and yanking them down in one quick motion.

“No panties?”

Fucking hell. He looked up at me as he threw the pants over his shoulder to the floor behind him, and then he started to crawl up the bed between my legs.

“Laundry day.” My voice was breathy and betrayed everything.

His deep chuckle at my response did things to me. My body came alive in anticipation of whatever he would do to me.

I nearly came undone the second his tongue ran along my slit. The heat of his breath against my skin sent a shockwave through me. My body burned in need for more.

My brain was short circuiting. One moment I wanted to yell at him, and the next my hands wrapped in his dark thick hair as he found my clit.

He slipped a finger inside me, stroking me in rhythm with his tongue. The faster he worked me, the more I forgot why I was angry. He slipped a second finger inside and that buzzing only I could hear took over my senses. That sense of pressure I wanted to chase to release the explosion just under the surface was so close. Every lick, every flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers, brought me closer and closer until my entire world shattered. For a few blissful moments, I didn’t give a damn what he’d done or where I was or why I was even here.

My core quivered against his fingers. I sucked in air like I’d forgotten how to breathe until now.

Seconds passed as I came back to earth and back to my bed in my shitty apartment where I had a god between my legs. He looked up at me with a different twist to his lips. No longer scary angry, if that’s what I called the before, he looked more dangerous now. Like he was the cat that just caught his mouse.

“I’ll ruin you for all other men, Calliope. Then you will know you are mine.”