Torn:Dark Legacy Duet, Book 2

By: Natasha Knight

It hurts, the place Lucinda shot me still tender. I managed to throw her aim off enough that the bullet didn’t do any real damage but it will still take time to heal. It was the lamp she bashed against my head that knocked me out.

But I don’t care about any of that, not right now, and I shove the half-eaten bowl of pasta aside and lift her up on the table and draw her dress up, missing the feel of her skin, the scent of her. Needing to be close to her. Inside her.

She looks down, brings her hands to my belt and unbuckles it, lets it hang there while she works to undo the buttons of my jeans. She slides one hand inside and looks back up at me.

I fist a handful of hair as she wraps her hand around my cock and I kiss her, and she squeezes my dick when I tug her head backward.

“Hard,” she says against my lips, her legs wrapping around my middle as I push her backward, still kissing her, shoving my pants and briefs down with one hand.

I tug her forward so her ass is at the edge of the table and look down at her. She’s shaved her pussy and I miss the triangle of hair I like to grip and tug, but I like this too. I like seeing the seam of her sex and I lean my head down and kiss it.

I missed it. Fuck, I missed her.

“Fuck me, Sebastian. Do it hard. I need you to do it hard.”

I need it too. Now. Tonight. Like this.

With one hand on her thigh, I shove her leg wide, keeping hold of that fistful of hair and watching her when I thrust in to the hilt, hard like she wants it. Hard so it hurts her.

But as much as I want to pound into her, I draw back, my fingers digging into her thigh.

“Hard. Please!”

She grips the collar of my shirt, letting out a cry when I do it again.

“Helena,” I grunt. She’s got one hand in my hair now and is pulling. “I won’t be able to stop.”

I thrust again, forcing the air from her lungs.

“I don’t care. I need you. I need you like this. I need us like this.”

I take the wrist of the hand that’s pulling at my hair and keep it on the table, lay more of my weight on her and look at her, my face an inch from hers as I fuck her. And when she reaches her mouth to kiss mine, to bite my lip, I push her backward because right now I need to look at her, to see her beneath me like this, to have her here again where no one can hurt her.

No one but me.

I close my hand around her throat at the realization.

“Why do you want it like this?” I’m still fucking her, still thrusting deep and hard. “Why?”

“Make me come. Please make me come.”


“Because it’s you and me and this is how we are. Please, Sebastian. I need this. You. Like this.” She draws me closer to her, buries her face in my shoulder. “I need to forget the rest.”

I grip her legs with both hands and push them wide and she’s wet and tight and moaning as I fuck her deep, deeper than I’ve been with her before, and when I feel her spasm around me, when I hear her cry out and she’s coming, I come too, my body going limp as I empty inside her, giving her everything I have, every ounce of me.



She falls asleep easily in my bed. I watch her, curled into me, small and soft and safe.

I look at the clock, barely two in the morning.

Opposite her, I won’t sleep tonight.

I never do on this night.

Pushing the covers back, I climb out of the bed, careful not to disturb her. I pull on my jeans and a sweater. The nights are cooling off, fall is fast approaching. I walk out of my bedroom, down the stairs, pick up my shoes which are by the door. I grab one set of keys and walk out of the house, heading to the water’s edge.

The sand is cool beneath my bare feet and I stop to listen to the sound of water lapping against the shore.

How calm it is. How comfortably predictable. It’s always the same, no matter what. No matter the chaos on the island or in my head.

And tonight, there is chaos.

I have her back. She’s safe.

After Lucinda shot me, I woke up in my bed, my arm stitched up where the bullet grazed it, a flesh wound. I wonder if I hadn’t caught her wrist if she’d have hit her mark. Killed me. I wonder if that was her intent or if rage clouded her judgment.

I wonder about my meetings with Joseph Gallo. With David Vitelli. I wonder which of them turned on me. They’ll need to be punished and I’ll get to that.

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