Wicked Games (Fallen Royals Book 2)

My floorboard creaks.

I open my eyes just as someone presses down on top of me, a hand wrapping around my throat. Caleb doesn’t squeeze. There’s barely any force applied to my skin.

I’d recognize him even in the pitch-black. As it is, moonlight filters through my curtains, casting strange shadows across his face. We don’t speak. He peels back my comforter, and I put my hands on his wrist. My fingertips catch his quick heartbeat.

He drags my shorts and panties down my legs. I kick them off, unable to look away from his face. It isn’t just the shadows—there’s darkness in him tonight. His fingers find my center, sliding into me.

“Soaked,” he whispers.

It’s an automatic response to him. Always.

“Did you enjoy your girl time?”

I don’t answer. Can’t, since he squeezes my throat for a second, then goes back to the gentle hold.

I release his wrist and go to his pants. I unbutton them and shove them off his hips. He stands, removing them, then comes back. I cast a quick glance to the door. It’s closed this time, at least. He doesn’t climb back in bed like I expect. Instead, he pulls me to the edge of the bed by my thighs. I sit up and grasp his dick, stroking slowly. It twitches a bit under my touch.

Caleb releases a hiss of breath. He bats my hands away and lifts my legs. My ankles go on his shoulders, the backs of my legs pressed to his chest. He wraps his arm around my thighs, keeping my legs together from hip to knee, and plunges into me without warning. This new angle makes me arch off the bed. He goes deeper, hitting a new spot, and the way my legs are together creates even more friction.

He stares down at me, and my cheeks heat. It’s dark, but I think he can see everything. He slams into me over and over again, our skin slapping together. It’s good the door is shut—he’s not being quiet.

It’s also…

Not intimate.

Still. I let him continue, writhing below him, although any sign of orgasm remains out of reach. He eventually slows, and he loosens his hold on my thighs.

My legs fall open, and I grab him by the front of his shirt. I scoot backward and take him with me. He crawls over me, our bodies pressed impossibly close. And when he pushes into me again, we both shudder. I wrap my legs around him. My arms around his shoulders, keeping him against me.

He buries his face in my neck. At first just lingering there, but then I feel his tongue. His lips. His teeth.

I groan.

“Your plan failed.” I slide my fingers into his hair, tugging until he looks at me. “Lenora and Robert want to keep me.”

I kiss his neck. He stays completely still except for the slight roll of his hips.

I move up his jaw, along the edge of his lips.

“You failed to get rid of me.”

He lets my lips explore his cheek, his temple. Over his eyelids and nose.

I’m learning him all over again.

“I didn’t want to get rid of you,” he finally whispers back. “If you thought that was my goal, you haven’t been paying attention.”

We took his darkness and put it into a new shape.

Me.

I let my hand wander up inside his shirt, over his muscled abs, to the bandages still wrapped around his chest. I wish I knew why someone would do such a thing to him. Why family can be so cruel.

“Kiss me.” An order issued softly from his mouth.

I lift my chin, aligning our lips. He tastes sweet, and he kisses me like he can’t breathe without help. Sometimes I feel like that, too. Before him, I just had one lung and half a heart.

Now I’m complete.

His hips move again. His hand slips between us, finding my clit with ease. He knows how to play my body like an instrument, winding me tighter and tighter until I explode. His tongue dances with mine, our lips, his fingers working magic on my bundle of nerves.

It’s all too much.

He swallows my moan, chasing it a second later with one of his own. I rake my nails along his scalp, and he pounds into me, faster and faster. He flicks my clit, and the sudden sharpness of it sends me over the edge.

He pulls out and flips me onto my back. I let out a huff, but then he’s right there again, sliding inside me. He bear hugs me from behind. His teeth score my neck. His movements become more erratic, almost frantic, and he finally stills inside me.

My birth control is working overtime.

“That was overdue.”

Once he’s slipped free, I roll onto my side. He brushes my hair off my face.

“Are you staying?” I ask.

“Do you want me to?”

I nod slowly. Carefully.

“Then I’ll stay,” he replies.

“Robert and Lenora want to keep me,” I say again. “Like… for real.”

I glance up and find him watching me.

“We’re going to NYU for an open house this weekend.”

His smile is quick. Too quick? Or maybe I’m paranoid.

“New York University, huh?”

“I never allowed myself to think about going to college,” I admit.

“Margo,” he admonishes.

“What?”

“You’re going to college,” he informs me. “But what about… They’re keeping you—does that mean they’re adopting you?”

I frown and flop onto my back. “No. Dad still has custody.”

“You don’t think he’d forfeit his rights?” Caleb scowls. “He should’ve done that already.”

“I don’t know if I want him to.” That would be the last straw. Dad giving up on me—willingly, after everything else that’s happened.

“He’s in prison, Margo.” His voice is hard. “Why do you still care about him?”

This is the first time we’ve talked about him, and all the animosity Caleb used to throw at me is now back in his voice. I barely suppress a shiver.

“Because he’s my dad.”

He grunts.

“Caleb?”

“Come here,” he says instead.

I twist on to my side to face him again. His finger runs up my arm, over my shoulder and along my neck. His thumb brushes my pulse point. Slowly, he leans forward and kisses my forehead.

My heart flutters.

“Sleep.” After a long moment, he adds, “We’ll discuss the pitfalls of your father later.”