Lowering my body towards the floor again, I moved my face from side to side near his stomach and slid my hands to the insides of his thighs, where I began to work my hands up toward his crotch in a slow caress, only stopping just short of touching the increasing bulge there. Afterward, I began working my hands back down, kneading and caressing the bunching and tensing muscles beneath my fingers as I did. With breath damn near hissing through my lips, I realized how badly I wanted Torin and how badly I wanted to make him want me. With that clarity, I rose to my feet and stood before him, moving my body in slow rhythmic figure eights. A sexy pout graced my lips as I ran my hands over my breast, down my stomach, then lower still as I gave a light stroke to the sensitive area between my legs. One stroke, two, before I lifted my arms and reached out, sliding the moisture on my fingers across his lips before withdrawing and placing my hands against his chest. I could feel the firm pectoral muscles beneath my palms trembling and need raced through me at the knowledge of his arousal. Slowly I gave him a playful, yet firm shove, reseating him in his chair, as he'd almost come out of it when I'd slid my wet fingers across his lip. I was doing things to him, I had only ever dreamed of, and with each action, I grew more damp, more aroused. Small expulsions of need escaped my mouth as the growing hunger within me became unbearable.
Torin’s hands twitched in his effort to restrain himself from touching. He hadn't so much as laid a finger on me and I was becoming a needy, throbbing mess. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to caress my breast, to run his fingers up my thighs until he reached the weeping folds that begged for his touch—to bury those fingers deep within me. Gasping at how insanely I wanted him at the moment, I lowered myself back onto his lap, wanting to make him touch me. Wrapping my legs back around the chair, I kept one hand on his shoulder as leaning backward, I arched my back and jutted my breast toward the ceiling, beginning a gentle rocking motion against him.
I rode his erection in slow motion for several seconds, before releasing his shoulder, I leaned all the way back, touching the floor with one hand as I continued to gyrate. As I brought the other arm back, I dipped it toward the floor as well. My body quaked with the arousal cruising through it, and I damn near exploded when with nostrils flared and eyes dilated, a groan ripped loose of Torin's throat, and reaching out, he grasped me around the ribs, just below my breast. Afterward, lifting me back into a sitting position, he swooped forward as lips soft, sensuous, and seductive, he grazed them against my own as he wrapped a hand in my hair. With a jerk, he pulled my mouth hard against his, all the while pumping against me, his erection stroking me through our clothing, then drawing back slightly, and voice husky, he breathed, “I want you.”
I couldn’t control the whimper that escaped my lips in my need as I moaned, “Oh God, Torin.”
Raising a hand, he cupped my chin, then lifting my face, he looked into my eyes. After a few seconds of examining them, he growled, “What are you on, sweetheart?”
Lowering my feet to the floor, I jerked out of his arms, beginning to back up. Pain, embarrassment, and shame washed over me for who I had become and suddenly seeing myself through his eyes. I gave a shake of my head. “Got no clue. Whatever Auriella gave me.”
Climbing to his feet and a slight hiss of “Fuck,” escaping his lips he bent, and shoving his shoulder into my midsection, he grabbed me around the thighs, then rising back to a standing position, he marched over to the door, where after throwing it open, he stomped into the hallway and headed toward the door at the end of it.
Darius Moss, one of the prospects, came charging down the hall toward us, however, Torin continued plowing forward, shoving him out of the way as he snarled, “Get the fuck out of my way, Darius!”
From behind us, I heard Darius exclaim, “What the fuck, Tor? What the hell are you doing? Stye will slice and dice you, man!”
“Fuck him,” Torin snarled as he slammed his way through the exit door. Its loud shrieks only quieted as the door shut behind us.
**TORIN**
It had been hard as fuck not to burn the club down after I'd gotten Marlowe out and brought her to my room. It wasn't as if I hadn't known what she did. Fuck, I'd been trying to convince myself for the last few weeks not to go into that fucking room. To stay the hell away from it. However, when I had gotten back from the run, I’d given in to that weakness and requested she dance for me, and God, how she’d made me want her—not like I hadn’t forever it seemed anyway.
I’d told myself just this once I’d enjoy her dancing for me, then I’d never request her again. I hated that she was a room-dancer. I hated that she was subjected to the lust of other men. However, when she began to dance for me, I became no different than they were. Lust had consumed me and I had swelled to the point I’d damn near busted the zipper out of my jeans. I’d finally reached a point where I’d had to make her stop, as I hadn’t been able to take any more, it was either stop her or fuck her. I wanted her, fuck yeah I did, but I wouldn’t do that to either of us. I’d NEVER wanted another woman like I did Marlowe, but she meant more to me than just another lay, and that’s when I realized she was drugged up. I’d been so pissed, I damn near hadn’t been able to control the rage that had ripped through me at Stye. The goddamn-mother-fucker, didn’t give a shit about his own daughter, his blood, and before I'd even thought through my actions, I'd picked her ass up on my shoulder, and carried her out of the club. I’d be damned if the son of a bitch was going to use her to line his pockets any longer. He hadn’t prostituted her yet, I knew this beacuse of Dillon, but it was coming, and as the prez’s daughter, Stye would get a high price for her virginity. He was into some fucked up shit, and believe me, I knew all about it—I’d been part of it from a very young age.
So, fuck man, what else was I to do? Let him continue? That would have taken a stronger man than me. The cost was too goddamn high, and though little else phased me, Marlowe was my Krypton. I'd get her cleaned up and away from anything that had to do with her fucking dad…but first, I’d have to claim her as my ol’ lady, and then deal with the shit-storm coming my way.
MARLOWE
“Please, Torin? All I need is a little. Please?” I begged. I was agitated and hurt all over. My muscles were cramping, and I had body aches that felt like they were nestled down into the marrow of my bones. Like growing pains, only multiplied by a hundred, yet even worse, was the craving! God, I wanted a hit, and I wanted it bad! I'd jerked, tugged, pulled, and damn near ripped pieces of my hair out over the last sixteen hours. Now, I couldn't stop shooting irate glances at Torin, confused that he continued to ignore me. Seemingly, a totally different person from the man who had acted so concerned about me a mere sixteen hours earlier. Instead, he tapped away on his laptop as if he could care less whether I lived or died. Finally having enough of being ignored, I stamped my feet and screamed, “Will you fucking look at me, dammit!”
Torin raised his head, eyebrows lifted in inquiry, as he peered in my direction. Suddenly a sneezing fit seized me, and I sneezed repeatedly, spewing spit and mucus in the air before me. Making a dash for the box of Kleenex sitting across the room, I tried to stem the flow; however, neither my hands nor the curve of my arm was adequate to catch the volume expelling from my nose. Finally, reaching the tissue box, I jerked a huge handful out and covered my nose as the epic fit continued unabated. After a dozen more rapid-fire expulsions, it seemed the outbursts were finally beginning to end. Yet, I found my eyes watering and overflowing for a very different reason when a warm pair of arms slid around my waist, at which point, I became a sniffling, sniveling, quivering, absolute slobbering mess.
Unable to contain my misery any longer, I let out a huge sob, and drawing me back against the hard muscles of his chest, Torin settled me against him, resting his chin on my shoulder. Then, warm breath caressing my ear, he breathed, “I've got you, baby girl. I'm right here with you, and I will be every step of the way through this.”
Tears ran rivulets down my cheeks, and my body turned on itself—clawing at me, tooth and nail from the inside as it screamed out its pain and neediness. I forced out a broken whisper of, “It's too much...I can’t do this!” Then gave a whimpering cry. “Oh God Torin, even my teeth hurt!”
As he turned me in his arms, he rubbed up and down the length of my own, then laying his forehead against mine, he softly growled, “You can do this, Mar. I know you can.”
Anything else he might have said was left unsaid, as at that exact moment, a sharp pain shot across my stomach, and wiggling loose of Torin’s hold, I cried, “Cramp’s,” as I shot past him.
A few seconds later, I was sitting on the toilet, praying for death. From outside of the bathroom’s doorway, I heard Torin call, “What can I do to help?”
With tears streaming down my cheeks, and mood shifting, I screamed, “You want to help? Go fucking get me something!”
After a few seconds of silence on the other side of the door, I snarled, “No? Then kill me and put me out of my damn misery!”
When silence was still my answer, I hissed, “Figures.”
Finally, I heard him snap, “I am not going to go fucking get you drugs, Marlowe. What I am going to do, though, is get your ass clean. So, get that through your goddamn head!”
“I’m a fucking junky, Torin…accept it and get that through your goddamn head!” I spat back at him.
To which he snarled, “No,” before walking away.
Staring at the floor, in pain and miserable, I muttered brokenly, “Fuck you, Torin.”