Masuk
Quinn
“Are you okay?” Those three words floated into my subconscious like a cluster of magical stars, lighting me up from deep within. I found it hard to breathe. Was it simply standing next to the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on, or because I hurt everywhere? Turning my head just a shy fraction, I was shocked to see sharp gray eyes watching me intensely. My breath caught and I looked away. It might be a dream, after all. I couldn't believe I'd meet such eye candy in black tees and simple jeans on the same morning I was almost…raped. But then, I wished this entire morning had been a dream. Not just him. “You don't have to answer that, you know.” God. Even his voice was, I don't know, coffee and whiskey all at once? Rough and calming, each quiet rumble rousing every hair on my skin. Goosebumps scattered across my skin, and I shivered. “No, I'm not okay.” He was silent, but I could feel his eyes on me, hot as hell. A shudder raced through my veins as I lifted my gaze to the sky, my eyes burning with unshed pain. I bit my lower lip, tasting the metallic warm liquid that leaked from it. “I'm not okay,” I repeated. “I'm exhausted, bruised everywhere.” I scoffed, shaking my head. “I came home after a long day at work, but I couldn't sleep because I ached everywhere. Then I step out to try to get some air, only to get jumped by some creep.” I shut my eyes against the memory of fat hands groping my breasts and stinking breath on my face. It was still too vivid to toss into oblivion. He was silent for a long moment. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small silver flask. I watched, curious, as he uncorked the screw and took a sip from it. “Here,” he extended the flask to me, “you'll feel better after a strong sip. Trust me.” Trust you? Of course. You're my charming Sentinel, after all. Why wouldn't I trust a dashing man that had swooped in to save me from the claws of a stinking creep in the dead of the morning? Our fingers brushed as I took the flask, and my eyes couldn't help straying to the thick, tattooed muscles that lined his arms. “Thank you,” I murmured before I tipped my head and drank from the same spot where his hot lips had been just a moment ago. Oh, it burned. The alcohol seared my cracked lip and my throat as it went in and down. But fuck, I felt better. Three more sips and it felt like I was floating. I heaved a sigh and turned to face the sea beneath the bridge where we stood, the wind tousling my hair in my face. “You know, I just want to be free. Free and…whole.” My gaze penetrated the waters, my mind drifting to the earlier moments of the day that still had me in shock. Way before the almost-rape. It was hard to grasp such betrayal, especially from the people who you least expect it from. A gasp rose to my throat when I felt a pair of strong arms around my shoulders. I stiffened, distracted by the feel of his body against mine, hard muscles against soft curves. What was he doing? I turned to face my sentinel, my heart thrashing wild against my ribcage. “What…?” “You looked so sad.” His gray eyes blazed like silver darts as they searched my face. “I thought you might need a hug.” My heart lurched in excitement, my tongue too heavy to move. He sighed heavily and leaned in close. An intoxicating smell wafted from him, spicy and sweaty, forcing my back against the railing of the bridge. “I understand how you feel, love. No one should have to go through what you did, this morning.” I trembled as his thumb traced the liquid lines on my lips, the gesture so swift and instantly arousing. “But,” he wiped the alcohol traces with a clean swipe and pressed his thumb against my slightly parted lips, “I won't let you waste a drop of such divine whiskey.” I laughed, my heart racing with every moment in the company of this beautiful stranger. His eyes crinkled at the corners a moment before he pushed his thumb into my mouth. “So, taste every drop.” I relaxed my mouth and took his thumb in, excitement and apprehension burning in my loins. I couldn't find the nerve to stop and consider what I was doing with this stranger on a bridge. I just knew I didn't want to stop. A groan deeper than my voice rumbled between us as I suckled his thumb with apt concentration, and his gray eyes darkened just a sliver. “You know how to use that pretty mouth, huh?” I said nothing as he pulled away, inhaling the musky smell that lingered. He leaned against the railing and casually shoved his hands in his pocket, like he didn't just have his thumb down my throat without warning, rousing all the nerve ends in my body and sending heat exploding across my skin. What was it about this man? I knew this blazing heat in my insides wasn't just about him saving me this morning. It was something more, and I was very much tempted to dip my hand in the fire. “I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up when you did.” He looked at me, his lips curled up in a hint of a smirk. “Of course you do. That bastard would have had his way with you, forcefully.” I heaved another shuddering breath. “Yes. Well, thank you—” “You don't have to.” Those gray eyes slid to me again, setting my insides ablaze as they caressed my face. “No one should have to go through that. Not a pretty face like that.” He eased off the railing and combed long fingers through the brown locks of hair on his head. “Keep it,” he nodded at the flask in my hand. Then he walked past me with a smile that implied I was probably never seeing him again. For some reason, I panicked at that very thought. I whirled, watching him as he walked away. Every ripple in his back left me in a trance, the clench of his butt muscles in his lazy strides, his broad shoulders, those tattooed arms.. that… breathtaking face. God. I couldn't just let such a man walk away, could I? I didn't mind that he was a stranger that had happened to appear while I was almost assaulted. I wanted this man. I ran after him before I could stop to think for myself, grabbing his arm. He turned to look at me, gray eyes gleaming so attractively I wanted to stare into them forever. “Is there a problem?” he asked with a slight raise of his brow. Struggling to catch my breath, I held my head higher and met his gaze. “Would you like to sleep with me?”LUCIANOShe denied it, of course. I expected nothing else. I liked it that way, because it was fun to play this little game with my wife. I might just have to frequent the sex den more than I had initially planned, which was really not a problem. I'd give almost anything at this point to keep teasing her. The previous night had been one of those times I decided to control myself and keep from tearing her apart. I’d barely contained a crash-out when she walked out while I was still speaking to her. She was just so sassy and annoying it killed me sometimes. On some days, it made my cock pulse very much thick with life. My only reason for going to knock on her door, afterwards, shirtless, was to see that priceless look of lust and shock on her face as I tested the waters. Bringing up my fingers inside her had been a calculated move, of course. I needed to see how she'd react, and she did, just as I predicted. But was she really the woman I married? How was I so in the dark about
QUINN“Who the hell is she?”Luciano was looking at Samira with a blank expression, his hands casually jammed in his pockets. “I'll tell you who I am, asshole!” Samira screamed, kicking and struggling to break free from the strong clutches of the big men. One of them grabbed her jaw and squeezed hard. “Shut up, bitch.” Then he turned to Luciano, wearing a meek expression. “Sorry boss. We found her creeping around the back of the house and was just about throwing her out.”“You haven't answered my question.” Luciano looked pissed now. “Who is she?”“I'm the bitch that blow-jobed my way into your house to demand why you tried to kill my best friend!”A canopy of silence hung thick in the air for a few moments, then one of the men holding her cleared his throat a little awkwardly. Luciano narrowed his eyes on the man's face, his jaw ticking. Tears stung behind my eyes. She was here because of me, of course. My best friend wouldn't be able to stand what had happened to me.His gaze was
QUINNTouch me. Those two words, uttered with undeniable yearning, surprised me. Fear and arousal clashed in my senses and clenched the inner muscles of my thighs as my eyes fluttered open and there he stood, a giant Greek god, staring down at me with a naked lust in his eyes that consumed my soul. In truth, everything went in full overdrive, clamoring hard against my chest. The sight of him in that leather jacket vest with the small black-roped, gold pendant around his neck…almost drove me insane. His hair had that messy look again, and maybe that was why it was annoyingly endearing. He smirked, and I wanted to remind him that there was nothing funny about this body wanting him against my will. Although he knew nothing about that. My eyes couldn't remain on that pendant, anyway. Hell no, because there was a whole other insanely edible sight to enjoy. His bare arms were ripped with veins running all the way to his wrist. I was suddenly struck with an overwhelming urge to run my f
LUCIANOI'm slowly dying inside. Yearning to touch this woman, every beautiful inch. Even behind the diamond-adorned white mask, I could tell who that face belonged to. I knew it when I saw her downstairs, although it came as a real shock to see my wife at the sex club I decided to check out today. I came here to find out personally, why the notorious Ron Fiske had called my house. But instead I met this mind-blowing surprise. Ever since I laid eyes on the petite, blonde beauty in the black lace dress that hugged her curves and begged me to run my palms along every beautiful inch, all I could think of was how I came so close to fucking her last night. Our little encounter with the knife had turned her on so bad, I ached to give her some relief. I saw it in the eyes. The way the olive-green dilated to a deep forest shade, the way her breath grew heavier, slower…the way her plump lips parted…the way she ground her hips against the blade without even realizing it.My little bunny wou
QUINNSuffocation was an understatement for whatever was happening to me right now. I was trapped in the heat of Luciano's body close to mine, his tent pressing into my face. He was hard and hot against my face, and for a split mindless second, I wished to pull his zipper free and know what he tastes and feels like in my mouth. Insane, absurd thoughts. Too inappropriate for the situation I was currently in. This stupid attraction to this man should have faded long ago. These things I feel…they're not real. Or at least, they wouldn't be my feelings. Because the only thing I should feel for him was hate.I groaned, mortified and turned on and frustrated. Shifting his weight to the left side of my face, he continued to trace the tip of the blade down my stomach. My jaw clenched hard, and sparks of pleasure raced through my veins, as the blade easily lifted the nightwear off, revealing the fresh, bare thighs. “I could do so many things to you, Lilith. It's amusing how you don't know
QUINNVeritas returned carrying a steaming mug of tea in one hand, and a bottle of gin in the other. I narrowed my eyes on her as she bounced into the room and towards the chairs facing each other around a small glass table. “Come sit, please.”As I did, she uncorked the gin and poured some of it into the mug of tea. I watched with wide eyes as she slid the mug over to me.“Trust me, this is the bomb. It'll help you relax for the session.”I blinked, unable to believe my ears. Alcohol in tea would help a psychological patient relax? “But it's not standard practice, is it?” I asked, staring down at the mug with a little mix of repulsion and confusion. “Not everyone is free-minded, Lilith. Please, go ahead and try the tea, and we'll begin our session.”She continued to stare at me with a fixed smile, and I knew there was no way I'd win this argument. Not like I even wanted to get into it at all.Heaving a small sigh, I picked up the mug and took a small sip of whatever mixture that







