Vicious Bonds: A Dark Romantic Fantasy (The Tether Trilogy Book 1)
Vicious Bonds: Chapter 70

I send Juniper and Maeve to dress Willow in clothing more appropriate for Vakeeli. Walking around in what she’s wearing—shorts, a tank top, and no bra—won’t do. I’d given her one of my silk shirts to cover her upper half when we left the cabin, but her legs are still revealed. Not to mention she’s been barefoot this entire time. I can’t have anyone else looking at what’s mine.

Juniper helps Willow to the shower, replaces clothes for her from her wardrobe, and once Willow is done and has eaten something, she meets me on the third floor, in the armory.

The armory is a sacred place for us. It’s where we store our weapons, rubies, good steel, records, and everything else of value. I keep the armory in my house because no one will dare break into it. Doing so would be like committing suicide. In Blackwater, my home is to remain untouched by anyone other than my respective team, and as Monarch, not only do I have the people’s highest respects, but I also have their fear. No one fucks with the Blackwater Clan and gets away with it.

“A whole room dedicated to guns.” Willow’s voice comes out of nowhere, and I glance over my shoulder as she steps into the armory. “Why am I not surprised?”

“You’re getting good at keeping your thoughts quiet.”

“Thanks. I’ve been practicing.” She smiles at me, and I can’t help smirking. My eyes fall to her clothes, and a wave of satisfaction rides over me. Juniper did well picking the outfit. All black, with a black cloak that’ll hide her weapons. Thick boots with silver chains are on her feet, spiked platinum bangles on her wrists. The bangles, I know, are a touch from Juniper. They’re unnecessary, but it wouldn’t be Juniper without some sort of fashion tossed in. Still, it works. She blends right in, and no one will suspect that she isn’t a member of Blackwater.

“Do people not own guns in your world?” I ask.

“Some people do,” she says, running her fingers over the handle of a silver handgun. “But I don’t.”

“Why not?” I pick up the gun she just touched, weighing it in my hand.

“I don’t know. I guess I just felt like I never really needed one.”

“That’s a backwards way of thinking.”

“Not everyone’s lives revolve around violence and guns where I’m from,” she says, smirking.

“That may be so,” I murmur, turning toward her with the gun. “But in my world, it does.” I place the gun in her palm, and she looks down at it. She bounces it in her hand, and I turn for a belt clip. It’ll work best strapped around her waist, beneath the cloak. Easy to access in case anyone tries to make any sudden moves.

“I’ll be safe with your family, I’m sure,” she says when I turn to face her with the clip. My eyes swivel up to hers briefly before dropping and focusing on the clip. I attach it to the leather belt around her waist, then grab a sheath for a knife that’s large enough to strap around her upper thigh.

“It’s not that I don’t think they’ll protect you. Leg up.”

She lifts her boot-clad foot, placing it on one of the shelves. “So, what is it then?”

I wrap the sheath around her thigh, then turn for the wall of knives and daggers. “I just don’t want you getting the answers without me. Beatrix lied once. What if she lies again? What if this is all a bloody trap?”

She thinks on that a moment, and while she does, I select a few of the sharpest knives that are also lightweight and take down a jagged dagger for good measure. The dagger has a ruby on the center of the black handle, the blade a sharp, sparkling platinum. Perfect for slicing someone’s throat.

“We’ll try to be careful. You deal with whatever The Council wants, and I’ll try to tap in with you mentally to fill you in.”

“Right. Fine.” I carry the knives to the nearest counter and set them down one by one. She approaches the counter too, gawking at each one.

“Do I really need all of that?” she asks.

“Yes, you do. As a matter of fact, you should be taking more than this, but I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

She moves closer to me, brushing against my side. I don’t know how she does it, but that simple touch is enough to send a current through me. It charges me, making me hyperaware of everything about her. Her soft breaths, the sweet scent of her skin. The heat of her body.

“I know it’s hard, but I really think you should stop worrying,” she says near my ear.

“I wish I could. In truth, I’m trying not to care, but everything in my mind and body goes against the effort.”

She steps closer, and I turn toward her, cupping one side of her face, my fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of her neck. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I don’t think we should be separated right now. If Mournwrath comes to you when I’m not there…”

“I’ll beg Beatrix for a protection morsel or something—whatever—that can help.”

“And if she doesn’t give it to you?”

“Then I’ll take one of those knives and point it at her throat.”

That makes me laugh, much harder than I anticipate. I haven’t laughed in ages, so it feels weird coming out, all raspy and dry.

“Wait a minute. Was that a laugh?” she teases.

“No, it wasn’t,” I counter.

“Yes, it was! I got a laugh out of Serious Caspy! Aww, do it again, please! You have a beautiful laugh.”

I chuckle. “Blackwater is clearly starting to rub off on you. And what the hell is a Caspy?”

“It’s you.” She pats my chest. “I’ve decided that’s what I’ll call you from now on. My own little thing. It’s got a ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Why not just Caz, like everyone else?”

“Meh. That name gets boring to say after a while. You could let me call you Caspian.”

“Have our relationship gotten to that level yet?”

“I think it has.”

I reel her in by the waist, my lips a breath away from hers. At this point, it’s getting harder to control my urges and the way I touch her. All I want to do is hold her, keep her close. Kiss her. Fuck her. It’s an odd feeling. Makes me feel weak and thoughtless. But, at the same time, I’m okay feeling weak in her presence.

“We should finish gearing you up,” I murmur on her lips.

She leans into my mouth, her plump lips brushing mine. “Yeah. We probably should.”

“So why aren’t we?”

She shudders a breath as I plant a kiss on her lips, so soft I feel the ripple effects travel through both of us. “Not sure,” she breathes.

A groan fills my throat as she drops her head an inch to kiss my neck. Fuck, she’s too good at that. My dick instantly hardens, and I press it into her.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll fuck you around my weapons.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“It is, but that won’t stop me.” I grab her by the waist and pick her up, placing her bottom on the counter.

“Maeve and Juniper are waiting for me to come back down.”

“I suppose they’ll come looking for you soon then, eh?” I kiss her on the throat this time, my lips dragging from the crook to the soft skin above her collarbone.

“Probably.”

“Then we better make this quick.”

She attempts a weak argue with, “I’ll have to take all of these clothes off.”

“I’ll help you put them back on.”

A giggle bubbles out of her, and she drops her head to meet my eyes. “These clothes took me thirty minutes to put on. Explain to me why the bras here are so complicated.”

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I don’t have breasts.”

She laughs again. “Funny.” Then her mouth is on mine, and she tastes like Blackfruit and mint. Her fingers comb through my hair, and I reel her in by the hips, my tongue colliding with hers. She reaches down, groping my dick through my pants, and I groan into her mouth.

“Your touch,” I groan. “Fuck, Willow. How am I so weak for it?” I unzip my jeans and lower them, then work to unbutton hers. She lifts her hips, allowing me to ease them down. Her panties are white lace and fresh, and I so badly want to rip them off.

“You do that, and we’re fighting,” she says, narrowing her eyes at me.

I smirk. “What? Your panties can always be replaced.”

“Then what will I tell Juniper when she sees them ripped?”

“I don’t know. “I reach down, pushing her panties aside. My finger grazes the lips of her pussy, and she sucks in a breath. “But you’ll have to forgive me if I do.”

“Caz,” she breathes as I thrust a finger inside her, and then another. Her lips part, and she looks so damn sexy as I play with her. Her pussy tightens around my fingers, and she moans, looking into my eyes. There’s so much desire swirling in her eyes. I feel the aching, her hips rolling with my fingers, begging for more.

I can’t hold off any longer. I pull my fingers away, and she nearly whines.

Why’d you stop?

I fight a smile, lowering my pants just enough to free my dick. I lick my palm, wrapping it around my shaft and stroking it, making it wet.

Sliding her hips to the edge of the counter, I angle the head of my dick at her entrance, slowly pushing my way inside her. With each deliberate inch, she moans louder, and when I’m all in, I say, “That’s why I stopped. To feel you, like this.”

She wraps her arms around the back of my neck, and I pick her up off the counter, bouncing her up and down the length of my dick. I clutch her ass in my hands, groaning because she feels so good.

“You’re so wet for me. Fuck, Willow. The things we do to each other.” She moans again, dropping her head and kissing me, and I guide her body up and down, fast then slow, and it’s damn near impossible not to come right away. Her pussy is dripping down the length of my dick, making wet, sticky noises in the quiet of the armory.

I place her on the counter again, and she lies flat on her back. I wrap a hand around her throat and thrust harder into her.

“Oh, Caz!” she cries, her back arching. I watch her like this, my hand around her throat, my dick buried deep inside her, to the hilt, and that’s all it takes for her to cry out again.

“You take me so well,” I breathe.

She moans.

“Do you like feeling me inside you?”

“Yes,” she breathes.

“I can tell. You’re gripping the hell out of my dick, baby.”

She clutches my wrist. “Oh, I’m gonna come. Don’t pull away,” she breathes again. It takes everything in me to jerk my hips back, taking away what she so desperately needs.

“What are you doing?” she asks raggedly. She starts to sit up, but I hold her by the throat, keeping her pinned down. “Why’d you stop?”

“You want to come around my dick, you’ll have to beg.”

“Beg?” she huffs a laugh, rolling her eyes. “You’re so full of yourself, my goodness.”

“Do it.”

“I’m not begging for anything,” she counters.

“No?” I push the head of my dick inside her, just enough for her to feel me there, and she sighs.

“You’re such an asshole,” she moans.

“Beg for me to make you come, and I’ll do it.”

“Deeper, Caz,” she breathes.

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Please,” she pleads.

I thrust deeper, halfway in.

“You want it all, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She wriggles beneath me. There’s desperation in her voice.

Driving me crazy. Please, Caz!

“Out loud,” I murmur, sliding my thumb over her jaw and chin.

Her eyes shoot up to mine, her legs wrapping around my waist. She uses her legs to guide me deeper, and I let her because I can’t resist either. I’m as hard as a rock, swollen and throbbing, wanting so badly to fill her with my come.

“Please make me come,” she finally says, and I loosen my grip around her throat, burying myself deeper. When I jerk back and stroke deep again, her body bucks, and a sharp gasp bursts out of her. Her fingernails drag down my arms as her back arches again, and then she crumbles beneath me, crying my name. The sticky noises are louder and her grip around me is insane. When I look down, my dick is wetter, milky at the base.

“Shit, Willow. Look what you’ve done. Look how wet you are for me.” I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and bring her upward just enough to look at me again. Her warm brown eyes latch with mine, and that look, as well as her pussy gripping my dick, is enough to make me detonate. “You’re so beautiful when you come.” She clasps my face in her hands, kissing me again.

Oh, fuck. Now I’m about to come.

Come for me, baby.

Love of Vakeeli, her voice. A groan bursts out of me, and I pull out just before I cum, gripping my pulsing dick, jacking it, and letting the semen spill on her pelvis. Some of it drips through the lips of her pussy and witnessing it makes me groan. I lower the tip of my dick, running it through the slickness. She twitches and moans as the tip of my dick meets her clit, then cups the back of my neck, bringing me down low enough to kiss me. Her lips are soft and warm. Sweet. Fuck, she’s everything.

“You’re bad.” She shudders again when I skim the head of my softening dick over her clit. If I wasn’t going soft, I’d put it in again. “Now replace me a new pair of panties because these are most definitely ruined.”