Page 20 of Taking Over the Dark

That seems to sate Nash, but I want to talk about what he said to me before I passed out for the last time in that god-forsaken bunker. This is a conversation I want to have between us and us alone. I don’t want him to feel pressured to tell me again, and now that we’re not in a life-or-death situation, he may not have the same feelings. “I heard that last confession from you, Nash Hayden.” I smirk at him, waiting to see if he remembers. “You ended it with, ‘My psyche would remember this.’” A shy smile finds his lips, and he starts to blush. Now I can tell he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“I wanted to be clean and brush my teeth before saying these words to you again, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.” A beat passes before he’s speaking again. “I love you, Ellie Dixon.And what we just endured together showed me that this isn’t just some obsession I have with you. You woke up after being taken for days and immediately stood your ground. You’re protective, smart as a whip, and know exactly what you want without settling. This was never your goal, and I know that, but I can love you enough for the both of us.”

I’m just staring at him in shock, my brain unable to catch up with what he added to those three little words. “Nash…”

“You don’t need to say it back, Ellie. Take all the time you need.”

* Wanderlust - The Weeknd

* Daisy - Sorry X Version - Sorry X

SIXTEEN

NASH

Ellie smashes her lips to mine, and for now, that’s enough.

I will never rush her into love, but I know she’s capable of it. She’s scared of it, or maybe of getting hurt, and the commitment of it all. Before this, it was all fun and games to her, but now she’s realizing none of us ever want to let her go. I find myself wondering who hurt her, but I don’t think it was a relationship that caused her calloused look on love…

It was her mom.

Between what Ellie has told me about her mother, and what Marcello has added, the love she should have gotten from her mother was never given, causing her heart to freeze over in order to protect itself. My father may be the same way, but it’s almost expected out of men… sadly. But never experiencing your mother’s love has to be hard to deal with. She shoves that hole full of whatever she can find within herself—hiding those feelings with a hard exterior, trying to make up for what she never got in the first place.

She wants to be enough on her own, but she doesn’t see that she is just that—enough. Plenty, actually. And I want all of her. Every broken piece. I crave to see what’s in that pretty head ofhers. However she’ll have me. I’ll hand this damaged heart of mine over to her in my own hands.

This kiss isn’t rushed and is not overly hot, either. It’s just what we both need after being on the brink of death, and surprisingly, I feel pretty good for how dehydrated I know my body had to be.

Marcello’s voice cuts through our kiss, causing us to break apart. We both look toward his office. Zamir is nowhere to be seen, while Cello wears a devilish grin and purrs through the intercom, “When you two are finished being angry and sucking face, come to my special room. I have a fun plan for all of us.” And with that, he spins on his heel, and we watch as he walks out of his office.

?*“I’m slightly afraid to see what we’re about to walk into, but I guess we’ll never know until we go, right?” Ellie asks, and I don’t miss the way that could be used in the same context as her finally admitting her feelings for me… or us, for that matter.

I whine, “Yeah, but can we try to find some kind of shower first?” The feeling of the grime and sand that’s been covering me for days is too much for my overstimulated brain.

“We sure can,” she says as she shoots me a wink, pulling me up and off the metal table. She adds, “You’ll feel better after not lying on this horrendous metal table. I could kick Cello’s ass for having these.”

I just chuckle and let her drag me to wherever she thinks there’s some water and soap.

After the most glorious shower of Ellie and I cleaning one another from head to toe, we stumble out into the main hallway of the warehouse. My dick is straining against whoevers sweatpants these are. I’m guessing Cello’s or Vin’s maybe. While showering was amazing, the shower itself looked like something they use after getting into questionable activities, so I’m not asking any questions. If they want me to have the info, they’ll give it to me.

We walk hand in hand down the massive hallways, looking into the glass front of each room we pass. Marcello said something about his “special room,” whatever the hell that means. All these rooms seem special to me, but again, I’m letting Ellie lead the way. She hasn’t steered us wrong yet today.

?*A whimper hits my ears, sounding like it came from the end of the hall. I look down at Ellie, and the grin that spreads across her face would give a full moon a run for its money with the ability to light up the night sky.

Speed walking to the end of the hallway and turning the corner, we seem to enter another world.

“What is this, Marcello? Sins on wheels?” Ellie questions, and I can’t stop myself from busting out laughing.

She’s so fucking funny, dude.

The walls are a deep-emerald green, and the lights are turned down so low that it takes a minute for my eyes to fully adjust and take everything in. Once they’re adjusted, they land on a tied-up Zamir, hanging by his wrists to hooks on the ceiling, completely bare. He has a bandage over his left peck, and I itch to run up to him and make sure he’s okay.

Marcello responds to Ellie, “No,Ragazza Dolce,this room was built for my enjoyment, and maybe all of your enjoyment as well… but most things you can find at Sins, you can also find here.” The cocky bastard’s smirking like always. Marcello’s only in his suit pants, slung low enough that when he turns around, I can see the muscular V that runs above his ass cheeks.

Why that’s so hot on a man, I’ll never know.

I watch as Marcello walks over to the oversized sage-green, double-door storage cabinet, opening both doors to search for whatever he needs. We’re all blessed in the ass department, but Marcello may have the juiciest ass I’ve seen on a man. The perfect round globes that seem to be worked out so evenly has drool practically running down my chin. I need to find out who his tailor is and kiss them on the cheek because fuck, those maroon suit pants may as well be painted on him. He spins around on his heel with a tubular metal-looking cage.

“Is that a cock cage?!” Ellie asks.

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