Claimed (Blood Ties Book 6)

The BANG of the back door resounded in my ears. But it was the crunch of the tires and the sound of the Explorer backing down the drive I held onto. London was gone. Just like that, leaving us alone.

There are things I need to tend to, he said.

Sure there were. Things that were more important than his family hurting right now.

I clenched my jaw at those words, hating him in that moment and hating myself.

I hated that I needed him, that I felt out of control when he wasn’t near.

BOOM!

A fist impacted a wall inside the house as I followed Carven inside.

Headlights flared across the window at the front of the house before they were gone. Only, it didn’t matter what we needed. As always, London did what London did…and the rest of us survived.

“MOTHERFUCKERS!” Carven screamed. “GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKERS!”

There was a squeal and a scrape as something heavy shifted in the living room and as I neared the entrance, the heavy as hell leather sofa sailed clear across the room. It landed with a thud. I dared to step into the doorway. But it didn’t matter. I was invisible in that moment as Carven charged past me and out of the room, heading for our bedrooms.

But he didn’t disappear into his room. He strode past to where the massive, fully equipped gym waited. I flinched with each thud of his steps, my own rage desperate to be unleashed as the lights flicked on and the first brutal smack of the boxing bag sounded.

“Carven,” I called as I followed him inside.

He didn’t hear me, his focus directed at the red leather target that hung suspended from the ceiling.

Smack.

Smack.

SMACK!

The bag bounced and trembled. His head was down, fists ruthless as they landed time after time. He didn’t want to talk to me. He didn’t even want to acknowledge I even existed at that moment. All he wanted to do was take out his rage and frustration on the goddamn punching bag.

Thud…thud…THUD. The last punch bounced the bag so high the chain that tethered it to the ceiling rattled. I turned away and glanced at the door across the hall. Colt’s room. I stepped closer, drawn by my own fucking torment.

I swallowed more than breathed. The cloying scent of blood clung to my nostrils. It was that smell that came back to me as I turned the handle of his door and pushed it open. I didn’t want to smell that place…not here.

I wanted to breathe in some trace of him, to sink into the feel of his touch and the warmth of his body. I wanted him, any way I could get him.

Shadows crowded his room as I stepped inside. I stopped at the foot of his bed, remembering that first night when the storm overhead had boomed and I’d woken up screaming.

He was there, sitting against the wall of my bedroom, fighting his own demons from our past. Yet he’d pushed that beast aside…for me.

I sank down on his bed and rested my head on his pillow. The trace of him was faint here. Because he spent most of his nights with me. A sob tore from my chest. He spent most of his nights with me.

“Where are you, Colt?” I cried, burying my face in his bedding.

I fisted his comforter as the image of that severed thumb slammed into me. I shuddered violently, my own rage howling inside me. All I could do was scream, muffling the sound of my torment. I beat the bedding, driving my anger into the downy softness over and over again until my tears stained the fabric and I couldn’t feel anymore.

I was empty.

And numb.

I knew I couldn’t stay here.

I shoved upwards and stared at the rumpled bedding. It was too real, too raw and too goddamn lonely. That’s all I felt as I hurried from the room, the tears in my eyes blurring the way, and barged through my bedroom door. It hit the wall with a bang as I ran for the bathroom.

Rage filled me.

The kind of rage I’d felt before.

I flicked on the lights and all but lunged for the vanity, grabbing hold of the corners. No! NO! Screams sounded in my head. My own screams as I’d stood in that room at The Order, and those of the man I’d killed with my own hands.

I’d killed.

I lifted my gaze to the mirror.

I’d killed like it was nothing.

“Not nothing,” I whispered, not even sure who I was speaking to anymore. “It’s called retribution.”

Retribution. That’s what I felt like and it wasn’t just for Colt now. It was for all the Daughters, all those women they’d forced down into that room. I shook my head.

Head up, Vivienne. Look them in the eye and never give them a reason to think you’re weak.

London had always made me look strong, always made me be on guard, a force to be reckoned with. Now I was. I shoved away from the vanity and swiped my tears away.

I pulled my holster free, then Carven’s black turtleneck shirt I wore for camouflage, hurrying to strip off the rest before I stepped into the shower. I needed the stench of tonight off me…desperately.

Hot water scalded my skin, turning me red. I scrubbed furiously, then stepped out. But I still felt just as dirty as I had when I’d stepped in. There wasn’t enough water to scrub murder from my soul. Not anymore.

I grabbed a towel and dried my body, made my way into the bedroom, then froze in the doorway.

Carven was standing there…waiting for me, his chest heaving with commanding breaths as he swung those murderous blue eyes my way.

Fear tore through me, cold…chilling.

We said nothing, just stood there staring…until some unspoken need shattered the moment. We both moved, striding toward each other. I released my hold on the towel wrapped around my body and let it fall.

His hand fisted my hair, yanking my head backwards, exposing my throat. I unleashed a moan, staring into that soulless stare. He was soulless at this moment…but so was I.

His lips trembled, then curled, exposing his teeth as he lowered his head to my neck. The pointed tips of his canines grazed the length of my vein.

“I want to tear you apart.” His breath was hot against my skin.

“Do it,” I moaned, and closed my eyes. “Do whatever you want with me.”

He jerked my hair harder, bowing my spine, making sure I knew exactly who I was dealing with. There was no softness…no comfort. Only the warmth of his tongue sliding along my throat, leaving me weak at the knees. Carven wasn’t just desperate. He was also dangerous.

He jerked his head upwards and released his grip on my hair before he grabbed my shoulders and shoved.

I flew backward and landed in the middle of the bed, naked. Panic punched through me, driving me upward as I turned and lunged away from him.

But Carven was on me in an instant, grabbing my ankles, yanking me against him. I fought, just like he knew I would. He needed this…he needed a release.

“You want to run from me, Wildcat?” he growled, shoving his body between my legs.

Hard fingers gripped my ass and spread my cheeks wide.

“No.” I bucked and kicked out as I tried to get away.

But his face was there, his tongue running along the crease of my ass before licking around the tight ring of muscle. “You run from me and it’ll only make this worse.”

I twisted, thrashing to get away. Those hands went to my hips, his fingers bruising as he jerked upwards. “I warned you before how it would be between us.” He threw me sideways, manhandling me until I landed on my back.

Only this time, I was ready. I lifted my foot and kicked, hitting him square in the middle of the chest. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to knock him backwards. This was no cat-and-mouse game between us, no predator and prey. We were both just as deadly now. Each just as debased as the other.

He tumbled backwards, unleashing a roar as he caught the fall. Still, it gave me enough time to lunge across the bed and race for the door.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he roared.

He wanted me to fight, he needed it.

I flew out the doorway, knowing instantly where I was running.

“VIVIENNE!”

I never stopped, never slowed, just raced naked for the gym once more. My chest was so tight I could barely breathe as I tore through the doorway and scanned the massive space. A boxing ring on one side. A rack filled with guns, knives and other weapons on the other.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded behind me.

I spun, and found him stalking toward me. “You want to fight?” My anger was entwined with desire. “Then we fight.”

There was a twitch in the corner of his eye. He grasped his black t-shirt and yanked it over his head. “I don’t want to fight you, Wildcat. I want to fuck you. I want to drive my cock so deep into that tight cunt of yours, you’ll scream my goddamn name.”

My body clenched with the words. Still, I gave a chuff. “You think so, huh?”

One brow rose. “Oh, I don’t think, I know.”

He came closer, forcing me backward toward the boxing bag suspended in the middle of the room. His gaze went to my breasts. “I’ll force your legs open if I have to. Either way, I’m in that pussy.”

Christ, the thought of that made me tremble.

My body reacted, tightening…and he saw. “You like the thought of that, baby?” He grazed his lips with his teeth. “Want me to bind your hands so you can’t fight me? Want me to spread open your legs so I can fuck you whenever and however I want?”

I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “No.”

He smiled, giving a chuckle. “Stand still, let me finger you, and I’ll know if you’re telling the truth.”

I shook my head, stepping backwards. The bag was just behind me. I knew it was there…somewhere. “No.”

“No?” His long, careful strides were deceiving, bringing him far too close.

I risked a glance behind me, knowing instantly it was the wrong move…or was it?

He pounced, grabbing my hands, his deft fingers circling my wrists as he pinned them behind my back. “No, you said.”

I struggled, rubbing my breasts against his chest. “That’s right, no.”

That twitch came at his top lip. He forced me backwards, making me stumble. But he did it on purpose, shifting both my hands to his one.

That allowed him to pull his free one away…and push it between my legs. I bucked, hitting the punching bag he’d all but destroyed earlier. “So, you don’t want me to hold you down and force myself in here.”

He pushed his fingers inside. I stiffened, catching my breath at the invasion.

“And this.” He pulled his fingers away, staring at the glistening tips. “Isn’t you being turned on by the thought of me using every fucking hole you have?”

Unable to speak, I shook my head.

His touch returned, forcing its way inside. “Wildcat,” he breathed huskily. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

Only my body didn’t fight so hard now. My hips jutted forward as he pushed inside.

“Spread your legs,” he demanded, driving his fingers deeper before easing out.

My foot eased to the side.

“That’s the good little kitten,” he smiled, sliding all the way inside.

A moan slipped free at the aching and throbbing in my chest.

“Listen to you purr.” His smile was cruel.

I struggled.

“Reach above your head, grab the top of the bag,” he demanded, lifting his gaze. He never stopped touching me, slipping free to circle my clit. My hands shook as I rose to the top of my toes, stretching my body to grasp the chain secured to the top of the bag. His breath caught, looking down at me. “Fuck me, you are gorgeous.”

My taut muscles trembled with his words. He moved, reaching for the button on his pants. I couldn’t look down, couldn’t see what he was doing. But by the savagery in his stare, I had a fair idea.

“You want to run from me?” He bent down, grasped my thigh with one hand, and reached up with the other, pinning my hands against the steel links. “I’ll show you just how far that will get you.”

With a brutal thrust, his cock drove all the way inside. I bucked as he filled me, the links on the bag rattling overhead.

He dropped his head and moaned into my ear. “Jesus fucking Christ, I missed this.”

A hard thrust and the bag bounced.

Again.

And again…

“I told you I was going to use you,” he groaned, thrusting so hard it drove the air from my lungs.

That fight turned into longing, one that stoked the fire inside. I didn’t care. I needed him too.

I wound my hands around the chain and lifted my other leg. He took my weight against the bag. Hard thrusts drove deeper, so deep he was all I could feel until that rush of need swept through me.

I’ll protect you…

Colt’s voice drifted, making me cry out.

Carven stopped deep inside me. “Baby?” Concern filled his eyes.

“Take me…take me down,” I whispered.

He did, holding me steady until my ass hit the hard blue covering. I wound my arms around his neck and held onto him. He seemed to understand, knowing I needed this as much as he did. One surge of his hips and he made me jolt. I closed my eyes, picturing both of them. I needed Carven…I needed the feel of his body and the scent of his skin.

Because he wasn’t just him at this moment.

He was also my connection to Colt.

I opened my eyes to find him looming over me. Strong arms caged me in as he drove his lips against mine.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I love all of you.”

He lowered his head and deep, purposeful thrusts replaced the frenzy. “I love you too, Wildcat.”

I unleashed a moan, driving my nails into the back of his neck. But the Son…he loved the pain, using it to drive deeper. The peak rushed toward me. But it wasn’t beautiful and perfect. It was a drug…a drug I craved.

My pussy clenched as that euphoria hit me, giving me a blissful, poisonous taste of oblivion.

I unleashed a moan, dropping my head backwards.

I’m right here, Wildcat, Colt whispered inside my head.

Carven gave a hard grunt, then stilled as he filled my body with warmth.

Hard, panting breaths filled the space between us.

When I opened my eyes, I thought hope waited. But it wasn’t…instead there was still that void. That gaping fucking hole where my protector had been. But he was there…in that second, before my climax hit. He was right there…waiting for me.

I lifted my gaze to Carven’s.

But there was nothing to say as he eased out of my body…and slowly rose.

He reached out his hand for me. I took it, knowing I needed more.

Just to touch Colt one more time.

I rose from the floor and followed him to his room.

As I climbed into Carven’s cold bed, I knew how to reach Colt…

I’d let them fuck me…as many times as they could. Just so I could reach him…

One. More. Time.