Page 2 of Not Taken

The wall supported me as I swallowed the spit left in my mouth from his kiss. 6’5”, two-hundred-and-eighty pounds, brown hair cut short, a thick jaw and a mouth that was perfect for keeping me subdued. His nose had been broken so many times it bent at two angles, making his furious grey eyes more vivid. He was huge, and I could still take him on in the ring.

It was another reason he couldn’t stand me. I only lost in the broom closet, and Caleb didn’t know how much of a win it really was for me.

Even though my neck burnt, I wanted his teeth back on me. I wanted him to tear my fucking skin off so he could see how I belonged to him.

"You fucker,” Caleb growled, glaring at me, his chest pressed close, his heart next to mine. "You think you're so fucking smart, don’t you?" I buried my hand in his hair, grabbing just enough of it in a vicious grip that my palm stung.

"Smarter than you." I grinned.

Eyes blazing, his pupils blown, I didn't even give him a chance to breathe as I pushed at the back of his head and smashed his lips onto mine.

I kissed him with everything I had, pouring my twisted desires into him. I was so in love with him that I didn’t care if the guys we worked with saw the marks on my throat. They thought I was hooking up with a whore that lived ten miles away, on the edge of Tucson. They had no idea I was the real whore.

I was so ruined inside that I needed Caleb to remind me I was nothing. My daughter was the other person who gave me a reason to pursue my goal. Because of her, I still fought, but I could never go back to her, not with the darkness that stalked me since my wife was murdered. If I was going to keep her safe, death was my only option. I’d kill as many of the Donelli’s as I could, and then myself, and she would grow up in a happy world, where the name Donelli meant nothing to her.

Caleb destroyed my senses, replaced all my harsh truths with his anger so I could feel alive in these brief moments with him

But I also needed Caleb to die.

Pushing thirty-five, I was six years older than him, though I was the one who always surrendered. I held him against me, making sure to incite him further. I wouldn't let him let me go until he gave me what I wanted.

Even kissing him was a betrayal to both him and my wife. If he ever found out who I really was, he would kill me instantly.

“You're gonna pay for that, you little slut,” he said as he slapped my bare shoulder over a young bruise, pain spiking in my skull.

My eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head. The harsher he was, the more I needed him.

Caleb struggled against me, tugging on my cock, trying to bat my hands away, but there was no way I was releasing him when I could taste his rage. He was vibrating through me, our teeth clacking, saliva spreading across our lips. It was messy and ugly and so good I thought I was drowning.

Still stroking me, his hand shifted to push his cock against mine. Then he was the one gasping under me as he rubbed us both through our shorts.

He dragged his fingers up the high V of my hips. A gentleness rushed between us as his kisses slowed and a moan fell from him, so much sweeter than any I’d had for months. Caleb gave up, letting me take control of the kiss, letting me ravage and show him how much I wanted him.

He wasn't supposed to do this. I wanted his rage, his hate. I wanted him to give it all to me, to punish me for what I'd done two nights ago, to prove I was really alive after I murdered his uncle with an empty heart.

I couldn't stop myself, not when he ground his cock against me. I softened with him, and suddenly, we weren’t fighting. He was giving himself to me, a powerful snarl booming from him while he also trembled under me. He had to stop with that shit.

Screams echoed in the back of my mind, ones I heard every night as I lay in bed. My wife, begging for help, crying out for me as Caleb’s uncle, Wyatt, forced himself on her repeatedly. His son, Bruno, kept me smashed to the floor with a boot on my back, making me watch before he had his turn with her. They wanted to know how much information we had collected when we were tracking drug shipments out of Arizona, and it was so minor considering how wide the Donelli’s scope was.

Like a starving man, Caleb drank me in, pressing harder and harder against me as I sucked his bottom lip. I dented his back with rough fingers and he thrust against my cock through our thin gym shorts until I had to leave the kiss to raise my chin, scrabbling for air.

I wanted Caleb to churn my dark rage, remind me what I really was, not to indulge me with his passionate need.

I grabbed his arms, shoving him off me, glaring at him. I loved that I was sick enough to be so addicted to him that I could forget why I was in this closet with him in the first place.

If he behaved. If he treated me like a slut. If he kept himself in check and didn't give me the chance to openly love him.

“You're not in charge here,” he said, throwing himself back against me in seconds, rubbing his cock on my thigh.

Heat flew through my body like one of Caleb’s punches as he met me with hooded eyes.

“Says who?” I snapped at him, digging my nails into solid arms, with no give to his skin.

“Says your fucking cock.” He smirked before throwing himself back into me.

The back of my head whacked against the concrete and I gasped, no time to catch my breath as he kissed me. Whether it was my mouth or my ass, I needed him to fill me until I screamed.

My handlers from the FBI were threatening to pull me out, even though I was running the operation. I was only meant to be undercover for six months, but it had taken me that long just to get the Donelli’s trust. I had to work carefully, hide my kills. Only two more family members left, then I could finally die, like I was meant to three years ago when Martha was murdered.

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