Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)

“Sweetness . . .” He cupped my breast with a hand, his thumb sweeping over the tip. “You couldn’t possibly do this wrong. Ever.”


My pace picked up and his followed. He went deep, then somehow even deeper. The angle made it feel like he was touching every part of me. He lowered his hand to where we were joined together and that thumb got busy swirling around. “You feel so amazing,” I said, grinding down as tension coiled tight. “I think I’m gonna . . . oh God.”

Ren said something, but it was lost in the rush of sensations pouring into my body. I threw my head back, welcoming the powerful release surging throughout me. It was like every nerve ending decided to fire at once, and they kept exploding.

I was still coming when he shifted, rolling me onto my back and thrusting fast and hard. His hips pounded into mine, and all I could do was hold on. My legs curled around his waist, and I clutched his arms. His hips plunged once more and then he stilled, his face buried into my neck as he let out a ragged groan.

Still swimming in the aftershocks, I ran my hand through his silky hair. God, this . . . he was amazing. Everything about him.

Ren held me tight as he pulled out and rolled onto his side, pressing me to his body. I could feel his heart racing against mine as I pressed my lips to his throat and kissed him.

I love you.

Those words whispered through me. I wanted to say them, but I couldn’t speak them out loud, so I said them over and over again in my head.

I love you.

~

A pounding on the front door woke us both at the same time. Sluggish, I sat up as I pushed the mass of curls out of my face. Ren was already looking at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s after three in the morning. Who is at your door?”

I glanced over at him. “I have no idea.”

“I seriously doubt that’s Amazon delivering.” Ren was on his feet, pulling his pants on. He left them unbuttoned, and my mouth watered a bit at the sight.

I jumped out of bed, pulling my shorts and shirt back on. As Ren opened my bedroom door, a horrible thought filled my mind. What if it—

From where we stood, I could see the knob turning on the front door. My gaze flew to the deadbolt. Ren hadn’t thrown it. Cursing, I shot forward, snatching an iron dagger off my dresser just as my front door swung open.

A knight stood in the entryway.





Chapter Nine


The fae walking into my apartment was most definitely a knight—an ancient fae who’d come through the gate with the prince. He was tall and broad, with the same deep olive skin tone. His dark hair was buzzed close to the skull. He had no weapons in his hands, but I’d seen an ancient manifest a gun out of thin air before.

He was kind of dressed like a badass biker, wearing a dark shirt and leather pants, and Ren took one look at him and laughed. He actually laughed as he stood there, shirtless, his pants zipped but unbuttoned. “Oh, you just busted into the wrong house,” he growled.

The knight’s response was a tight-lipped smile, and then he strode forward, chin dipped down. There was no time to question why the knight was at my place. Fae didn’t typically seek Order members out. We were the hunters, not the hunted.

Ren was in front of me, becoming a living, breathing obstacle, and while I appreciated his protective nature, I could hold my own. My fingers tightened on the handle of the dagger as Ren brandished the thorn stake.

The knight took a swing with his meaty fist, but Ren was wicked fast. He dipped under the knight’s outstretched arm and sprung up behind him. Planting one leg, he spun halfway, landing a brutal kick in the back of the knight.

Stumbling forward a step, the knight easily caught himself and pivoted around. Taking the advantage, I sprang forward as Ren swiped the business end of the stake at the knight’s throat. That was the only way to take down an ancient. The head had to come off, and I was really hoping and praying it wouldn’t be messy.

The knight sidestepped Ren’s throat-jab, then lifted a hand in my direction. He didn’t touch me, didn’t come anywhere close to me. All he did was lift his hand, and suddenly my sock-covered feet were slipping backward across the hardwood floors. I hit the wall.

“What the hell?” I yelled, my eyes wide, staring at the knight.

Ren swung out with his other fist, landing a blow on the fae’s jaw. The knight turned his cheek and laughed. “That was funny?” muttered Ren. He flipped the stake, then lunged forward, slamming it into the knight’s chest. The knight grunted as Ren dragged it in a downward motion that would not end pretty.

“Whatever,” the knight replied, and then swung out with one arm, backhanding Ren across the face and knocking him aside. Ren crashed into the end table. The lamp fell to the floor, shattering into several large shards.

Oh hell to the no, he did not just hit Ren.