Ink & Bone (New York Crime Kings Book 5) (9 page)

I don’t answer her. Why? Because in this moment, I am petrified of her…of her intentions. Mostly, I’m petrified of
my
intentions.

I keep my head down as she massages my shoulders with soap. Dragging the soapy sponge across my collar bone, Laura brushes her forearm over my breast, and I gasp at the sensation as my spine straightens. The drug is in full effect, and I am as turned on as ever—even more than I was when I was chained up and ball gagged the day I got here.

“I remember that need,” Laura mutters, sliding her hands underneath my breast. “I was the first test subject for this particular drug.”

I lift my head and look at her. “Willingly?”

I try to keep my gaze on her eyes, but I keep sliding it to her lips.

“Not at first, but I became addicted to it—not to the feeling of being high, but the orgasms Skull would give me.”

A flash of Skull’s face, lips parted, eyes hooded, burns my brain, and I almost gag. “How can you let him touch you? He’s repulsive.”

She scowls at me. “Not that it matters to you, but he saved my life. I’d do anything for him.”

Clearly.

“He touches me, you know,” I tell her. “He doesn’t care about you.”

Laura giggles, her pretty lips curving effortlessly. “Damien cares about me very much. We may not be exclusive to each other, but we’re here for each other whenever we need it.”

It takes me a second to realize she’s referring to Skull as Damien. “What could he possibly need from you if he’s getting it everywhere else?”

She lowers her sponge to my breasts, and my nipples strain against it.

“I keep his house in order, balance his accounts, feed his army, and offer him normalcy wherever he lacks it. He can’t get that anywhere else.”

I spit, “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Maybe.” Dropping her sponge, she slides her hands up and down my stomach, drawing shudders from my body every time she dips below my belly button. “But so are you. Hell, you’re probably crazier than me. I’d never follow a stranger off of a train and into an abandoned industrial site.”

Damn. That’s true.

Laura caresses my hip and drags her hand right across to the other, slipping extra low as she passes over my abdomen. Each time, my body clenches painfully.

She chuckles. “Do you want me to touch you there,
baby
?”

Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. Like last time, there’s a sexual hurricane building up inside me. Each second that passes, I find myself slipping closer and closer to surrender. I can’t help it. It’s a need as powerful as hunger, as thirst. I just might rip my hair out if relief doesn’t come soon.

“No?”

She slips her hand between my legs, and I gasp, jolting hard enough for the high water to spill over the edge of the bath. Lucky for them, it’s an infinity bath. I squeeze my legs shut, and she tugs her hand free. God. Her hands were so soft and slippery.

“Are you worried about your little boyfriend?” she whispers in my ear. “I won’t tell him, Kitten. You can trust me.”

“Don’t touch me,” I tell her, hating the desperation in my voice.

Grinning, Laura shoves me to the left, and I slip, almost drowning myself. Shit. She’s a lot stronger than I expected. In a heartbeat, she slips behind me, hooks her feet under my knees, and pulls my legs apart.

“I know you want it,” she says, planting a kiss on the nape of my shoulder. “But if you want me to take it so you don’t feel guilty, that’s fine by me too.”

I struggle against her, but she locks her ankles, and I can’t move my legs. How the fu—

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” Laura cups my breast and squeezes. “Monique was quite fond of this position. She’d often
beg
for it.”

I sneer.

“You have it easy, though. Skull would make me do this to her in front of his dinner guests.” I hear her smile. “She was quite the mess maker.”

I struggle as hard as I can, but she has me at a disadvantage. Gasping, I push against her leg with my free arm, but she swiftly hooks her elbow around mine and tugs my arm back, completely immobilizing me. Chuckling under her breath, Laura slips her free hand between my legs.
Oh!
My breath hitches, and I try to squeeze my legs shut, but I can’t break free.

She hums, a low sound at first, and it coats me in all kinds of wonderful hues. They flow down my chest and seep across the water like fog on a lake. Yes, I realize how crazy that sounds. Whatever Skull has put in this drug is not good for the brain.

As Laura hums, she circles the tip of her finger against my clit, and the sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

“Stop,” I pant, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

Over and over I remind myself that this isn’t me. It’s the drug. I don’t want this. The drug she gave me does.

Of their own accord, my hips move, grinding harder against her fingers.

“I knew you’d like this.”

I give my head a pathetic shake but open my thighs a little wider.

“That’s my girl.”

Laura slides two slender fingers against my opening and plants a kiss on my neck before slipping her fingers inside me. My thighs tremble, and air refuses to settle in my lungs long enough for me to catch my breath. I don’t want to enjoy this. I don’t want to want it so badly, but now, right now, I want Laura to put her face between my legs. I want her to bend me over and—
Click.

My eyes shoot open, and Laura removes her hand from between my legs. She presses her lips to my ear. “Uh-oh,” she whispers, cupping my breast. “Look who has come to play.”

“She’s not giving you any trouble, is she?”

“Not at all.” I hear Laura smile. “We were just playing.”

Gritting my teeth until my jaw aches, I try to close my legs, but Laura is, well, she’s just too damn strong.

“Don’t get shy now, Kitty-Cat.” Skull simpers, sauntering closer. “You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.”

My heart races in my chest, thundering like the drums in a drumline as he approaches the bath, his black stare greedily devouring the sight in front of him. Without removing his pants, he steps into the bath, and I watch as his fabric absorbs the water. A rush of water spills over the edges and crashes into the catchment. If this were a normal tub, this bathroom would be flooded.

“Are you finished?” Skull asks Laura, kneeling in the bath.

She touches my stomach, and I clench. “Almost.”

Laura slides her hands between my legs, and I whimper.
Loudly.
Making the muscles in Skull’s sculpted stomach tighten. I don’t want to admit it, the very thought makes my skin crawl, but watching him watch me, watching his muscles clench and relax at my every sound, my every twitch, is only winding me up more.

…and the messed-up part about this whole situation is that I don’t want it to stop. I mean, I
want
it to stop, but I don’t
want
it to stop. I’m thinking like a crazy person!

I close my eyes, and Jai’s face, his brooding, angry face, flickers through my mind, and my heart just about cracks in half.

***

I hate being alone in a room with Skull, but being alone in a bath with him is worse. Laura left twenty minutes ago to help Vicky―whoever the hell that is―in the kitchen. I managed to hold off her assault. Somehow, I didn’t cave to her relentless stroking.

I wrap my arms around my knees, hugging them tightly. I keep my stare on the churning bubbles and the streams of water that run endlessly over the edge of the bath and into the infinity catchment.

When I refused to come, he had Laura unchain me and then sent her on her way.

Exhaling, I finally gather the courage to lift my stare to his. He lounges against the bath, his long, inked arms resting along the porcelain edge. One of his legs is bent at the knee, the other is straight, touching my good thigh.

Why is he here? What more does he want?

His face is placid; his black eyes narrow as he studies me. On closer inspection, his black, tattooed lips are parted, and his head dips before he catches it and straightens it again. Fear tightens my spine.

“Are you drunk?” I ask, swallowing hard.

“I don’t drink much.” He angles his head. “But I make good drugs.”

I scowl. “Isn’t there a code you drug dealers live by? Never get high on your own supply?”

Skull chuckles and sits forward. The bath water ripples and rushes forward, spilling quickly over the edges. Releasing my legs, I grip the sides of the tub to prevent myself from toppling over. With quick hands, he snatches my ankles and tugs me forward. I squeal as I rush through the water and end up on his thighs, straddling them like I would a horse.

He smiles. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I don’t move, I don’t struggle, in fear of him doing something irrational. My muscles tremble as terror chases away any arousal the drug had conjured in me. I drag my stare from his face to his neck and follow his tattooed throat down to the ribcage he’s had tattooed on his torso. Inside the ribs is a decaying heart and a beaten pair of lungs. I don’t need to be a psychologist to understand the meaning behind them. He knows he’s dead inside.

Skull glides his hands up my calves and onto my thighs. I tense but otherwise remain silent as he reaches out and grabs the purple sponge that floats by. Singlehandedly, he applies soap and presses the sponge to my breasts. I hold my breath as he circles the sponge over my entire chest. Surprisingly, he’s gentle. Almost…
caring.

I lift my stare, and our eyes lock. It sends my stomach rolling. There’s a glistening in his eyes that I’ve never seen before, that I never thought a person like Skull could ever exhibit. He lowers the sponge and lets it go. Soap dispels as the sponge takes on water.

“You look similar.” He slides his hands over my thighs and onto my hips. “But you feel different.”

He’s referring to his dead wife, the one I bear a striking resemblance to. I clear my throat, desperate to strengthen my tone. “We
are
different.”

“I struggle with that…
sometimes.
”

Digging his fingers in, I grunt as he yanks me higher and his buttons press into the apex of my thighs. I clench my teeth. Devouring me with his gaze, Skull slides his hands along the curve of my waist and pauses just underneath my breasts. “You’re slimmer than she was…and taller.” He brushes his thumb along my rib, and goosebumps spring along my spine. “You need a tulip tattoo right here.”

Subtly, I inhale through my nose and let it silently slip out between my lips. “I’m not interested in replacing your wife, Skull.”

His irises darken. “No one could ever replace my wife.” He inches closer, and I hold my breath as he brushes his soft lips against mine. “But maybe, just once, it wouldn’t hurt to pretend.”

My nose twitches as I fight off a grimace. “Yes, it would.”

I shove him hard and scurry back. Water splashes over the lip of the bath, completely missing the infinity catchment and soaking the bathmat. I twist my body, hissing when my wound feels like it tears open. I claw at the edge of the bath, desperate to pull myself up, but heavy hands clamp on my hips, and I’m tugged back and flipped over. I grunt as he wraps a strong arm around my waist and pins my arms to my side.
Donk.
I hiss as the back of my head connects with the edge of the bath, sending a sharp pain over the surface of my skull.

“Where are you going, Kitty-Cat?” Skull asks, his Australian accent coming through as the water settles.

Panting, I struggle against him…but it’s useless. Skull pushes my wet hair out of my face and grins down at me. “I said I’d wait for Stone, but I don’t think I can,” he states, dragging a thumb along my lower lip. “So we’re gonna do things my way tonight.”

He leans in close and brushes his nose against mine.

“Please,” I whisper against his lips. “Don’t do this…”

He plants a soft kiss on my mouth. “I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs, his eyes glazing over as he reaches between us and pushes his pants down. “The way you like it…”

Tears well in my eyes. “I’m not
her.
”

“No, you’re not.” Lifting his hips, he shifts his body and brushes the tip of his cock against my entrance. “But you are tonight.”

I suck air into my lungs and hold it as he applies a little pressure and kisses me deeply.

Knock. Knock. Oh, thank God!

Exhaling in exasperation, Skull turns his head towards the door but refuses to let me go. “Come in,” he bites out. “It better be good.”

The door creaks open, and a man I’ve never seen before pokes his head in. His head is shaved, his eyes a light blue. “Sir, we have movement.”

Skull tenses as he pulls back more. “On the thing?”

The man at the door nods. “And the window is closing.”

Cursing, Skull stuffs himself back into his pants and lets me go. I sink to the bottom of the bath, catching myself on my hands as I gasp in relief. He launches from the bath and tears from the room. Silence falls. The only sounds to be heard is the trickle of water that keeps the bath full and the sound of my panicked breathing.