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UNTAINTED
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UNTAINTED
Tainted Black #2
Shanora Williams
Contents
Untitled
Also by Shanora Williams
Note From The Author
Introduction
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Epilogue
Afterword
Copyright © 2016 Shanora Williams
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Thank you for respecting the work of this author.
Published November 2016
Editing by Librum Artis Editorial Services
Cover Art and Design by RBA Designs
Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Also by Shanora Williams
FireNine Series:
Who He Is
Who We Are
Who I Am
Who I’m Becoming
FireNine Valentine
The Beware Duet
BEWARE
BEWARE 2: The Comeback
Standalones
Doomsday Love
Tainted Black
Infinity
Sweet Promise Series:
Sudden Desires
Sudden Flames
Venom Trilogy:
Passion & Venom
Venom #2 (Releasing February 2017)
Dedication
I’ve dedicated one of my books to you before, but this one is for you too. I got through it with your smile on my mind every day. With the dreams you were showing up for, proving to me that you’re still here, watching over all of us. It was a bad year. A terrible one. Hard as hell without you, but I know you wouldn’t want me to just give up on this dream. I wrote for you. I pushed for you and I will continue to do so until the last breath leaves my body.
I love you, Montez. Missing you like CRAZAYYY!
Gone but never forgotten.
Note From The Author
I’m always making notes for you guys in my books, I know, but this time I want to make sure that you all understand that before you go into reading this, realize that this book is NOT TABOO like the first. UNTAINTED is a continuation of Chloe and Theo’s love journey, therefore those taboo themes that were in book one are pretty much gone. They are older and more mature.
My lovely readers asked for more and so I did my best to provide the best story I could. I was more than happy to see Theo and Chloe come together again and I hope that this book is just as entertaining for you as the first. :)
To read Tainted Black, the start of Theo & Chloe’s story, click here: Tainted Black
Much love,
Shanora
Introduction
This book is the follow up to a standalone and will make more sense if book #1 has been read first.
To read Tainted Black, the start of Theo & Chloe’s story, click here: Tainted Black
Prologue
THEO
The sun beamed.
The curtains, white and clean, billowed with the Bristle Wave breeze. Music drifted up the stairs, playing loudly from the speaker. A song by Rihanna. One of her favorites.
My fatigue subsided for the time being. I felt refreshed. Pushing out of bed, I tugged on the jogging pants that were beside it, forgetting about the shirt. Walking to the bathroom, I gave my teeth a quick brush, washed up a bit, and then drifted out of the bedroom.
The coffee was rich in the air, a fresh brew. My stomach swirled at the thought of having that first grand cup, how it would taste running across my taste buds, officially waking me up. I met at the bottom of the staircase and rounded the corner.
Pans and pots clanked, and the music was louder now.
As I spotted the sunlight streaming in, thought of that hot coffee that would push me awake, and smelled the pancakes and warm syrup, none of it mattered because there she was, in the kitchen, humming while shaking those round, full hips.
She had a piece of melon between her fingers, the other hand occupied with the handle of a spatula. She sang a line from the song, still moving those hips, still singing, until I cleared my throat, folding my arms and leaning against the edge of the wall.
She gasped and whirled around without the pan, placing the now-empty hand across the heart of her chest. “Oh my God, Theo!”
“Scared you?” I asked, brow cocked.
She waltzed towards me, her arms wrapping around my waist, head craned to meet my lips.
I looked down at her, meeting soft hazel eyes. “Good morning, Knight.”
“Good morning. Now kiss me,” she begged, grinning adorably. “Stop stalling.”
I looked up. “Are you cooking for me?”
“Theo.”
“I mean, I love breakfast. The most important meal of the day and all, right?”
“Theo!” she giggled, slapping my chest playfully.
I busted out in a laugh, clutching her tight in my arms and lowering my head to press my lips to hers. Behind the kiss, I laughed, and she grinned, hugging me tight. Her body molded with mine, and my back pressed on the wall.
We remained this way for quite some time. I’m not sure how long. I didn’t count. Several minutes passed, and a hunger took hold of her. I could tell she wanted me . . . again. Her body was hot now, loose. Open and vulnerable. She draped her arms around the back of my neck, bouncing on her toes and giving me a light boost to pick her up.
Those slender legs wrapped around my waist, my erection nestled on her lower belly. She moaned, and a deep groan slipped out of me as I twirled her around so that her back was to the wall. She still wore those short-shorts, the ones that I threatened to burn if she wore them in public again.
They were made of loose cotton, so access was easy . . . super easy for me. Her tongue slid between my lips and my cock strained, dying t
o be inside her now.
“Fuck, Chloe,” I groaned, grasping her ass in my hands. Her teeth sank into my bottom lip, catching it. I dropped my gaze to her mouth, our noses touching.
“I’m ready when you are,” she breathed.
I focused on her mouth. I was born ready for this girl. My soulmate. My life. I pressed forward and crushed her lips, no warning. No hesitation. Something was burning now, the odor strong, but we were both too far gone to care.
I slung her body around, marching for the table in the corner, dropping her down on it, and sliding out of my pants. Her shorts were pulled off in an instant, my cock settled between her thighs. I claimed every inch of her skin with my mouth.
God, I couldn’t speak; I was so fucking eager. I couldn’t think; my mind was so cloudy with thoughts of her.
My hands drifted across her silky skin, palms meeting at her hips—clutching, gripping—as her fingernails drug across my back. She was perched on her elbows, and gruffly I said, “Make sure you watch me, baby. All right?"
And she nodded, so eager, so ready. She licked those supple lips, eyes locked with mine. She’d grown accustomed to watching, to witnessing the magic my tongue could do.
Gently, I ate my girl, massaging her clit, slurping, licking, and sucking. I delved deep, the taste of her absolutely addicting; her moans sparking the fuel in me, causing me to pulse and throb like a motherfucker as I stroked myself.
She loved every bit of it, her body bucking as she held me just a little tighter.
“Oh, Theo,” she breathed. I loved it when she said my name. It sounded so good coming from her mouth.
So sweet.
So innocent.
Though I’d tainted her innocence over and over again, there was no going back. She loved being the bad girl for me. She loved giving me full control. She knew my need to dominate, to own her. It’d been this way for months.
Even though she’d lost my daughter as her friend. Even though I was married to Sheila. Even though she was engaged to Sterling. None of it mattered, because we were us. We loved one another, and fucked like we hated each other.
If that wasn’t perfection, then I don’t know what is.
I took my Knight. I fucked her on top of the table, thrusting, slamming, and causing the legs to wobble. Her head fell back, her neck exposed, and I took advantage, sucking on the tender skin right above her collarbone, grinding harder, and swelling up deep inside her sweet pussy.
The burning smell was thick in the air now, almost suffocating. But I couldn’t stop. I had to keep going. It was too good. So tight. So wet. I didn’t want to stop . . . but she already had.
“Theo,” she gasped. “Theo. Stop. Fire. There’s fire.”
“I know,” I growled. “We’re on fucking fire, baby. We always have been.”
“No, Theo,” she said, moving closer, hugging me tight as if she were afraid.
I frowned down at her. I was fucking confused now.
“Theo, there’s fire. This is hell for us. Don’t you see?” she whispered, voice cracking. “We don’t belong here. We can’t keep doing this. We’ll die going through the smoke and flames if we do.”
I clasped her face in my hands, hating the tears that stole her happiness. I kissed them away as they skidded down her cheeks. I smoothed the remains away with the pads of my thumbs. Then I kissed her, so deeply, so passionately, and she returned the same ferocious passion, arms tight around me.
Pulling away, I said, “If I have to die just to be with you, then so be it. I can’t fucking live without you, Chloe.” I said this, but I don’t think she heard me.
No.
I know she didn’t, because she was no longer in front of me. She wasn’t half-naked anymore. And I was fully dressed. She was now standing by the door. Her exit. Her escape.
She swallowed hard and waved at me, eyes full of remorse, just like the day she made love to me on Dirty Black for the last time. With sorrow and desolation, I called her name, begging—literally crawling my way to her through blistering heat, smoke, and flames.
“Chloe, please,” I begged. “Don’t do this to me again. I fucking need you. I—I can’t let you go. I fucking can’t. Not again.”
She looked down at me, tears lining her cheeks.
“I have to go, Theo.” She reached down and stroked my face. “But maybe in another lifetime.”
I’d said that for months now, repeating the mantra to myself, as if it would restore hope, but another lifetime would never compare to this one. The one we shared. The love we built. It was too much. Too deep. So perfect. It could never be topped.
She opened the door, and walked out. I don’t know how she got out of my hold, my vice-like grip, but she did, and I watched her walk away, each step forming a crack on my black heart.
And, soon, her silhouette was gone.
The smoke and flames vanished, but I still felt too hot.
I was still holding something.
It was cold. Hard. Flat. I lifted my head, staring right at my own reflection. It caught me off guard, and I startled a bit, gasping. I didn’t get it. I hated my face—the one in the same mirror I had shattered after taking Chloe’s virginity.
How is it repaired? Why the fuck is it here?
It was here; like that night never fucking happened. It shimmered and transitioned into a photo of my daughter. My Izzy Bear. Her and Chloe . . . together. Smiling. So young and carefree. So happy together. No one could break their sisterly bond . . . no one but me.
I broke them apart. I fucking ruined them.
The area that surrounded me was pitch black, but light shined down on the mirror, leaving me no choice but to see myself as it transitioned again. I stared at myself—the hurt in my eyes. The damage dominating my well-being. The pain . . . so unbearable.
The guilt swallowed me whole, and I sank.
I dropped.
I plummeted right into a black hole and wept for days. Months on fucking end.
I’d become even more damaged than I ever had been before, begging for Chloe to come back to me. Calling, and getting nothing but her voicemail. Emails with no replies. Text messages with no responses at all. Nothing was what I got in return for my everything. It was almost like she never even loved me to begin with, and maybe that was the point of it all. She was never supposed to love a man like me. Ever.
I called, emailed, and text her, begging for this girl to bring me joy again—to take care of me again . . .
But then, I woke up, panting, sweating.
And then I realized one thing.
All that shit—all of it was a dream.
A façade.
I’d lived with nightmares for years—dealt with death, deceit, and battles. My time with Chloe was a glimpse of my own little fairytale—things that wouldn’t happen in real life, or at least the way they should have. My own little story, full of never-ending happiness, a river of peace.
It was a beautiful, fragmented mess.
And in this bed, as I stared ahead and thought about it all, I came to know one thing.
I was alone.
I was forgotten.
I was . . . still heartbroken.
And, yet, I was still so madly in love with Chloe Knight.
Chapter One
THEO
This should have been one of those perfect mornings. You know, like how they run in the movies.
The sun is bright; the sheets white and crisp. It’s beaming down on our skin through the curtain slits.
It’s peaceful and quiet, and soon some orchestrated music begins to play. The wife rolls over, and as the husband you are supposed to stare at her. You’re supposed to wonder how the woman you married is so damn beautiful.
You can’t keep your hands off of her.
And then you put your hands on her—anywhere. You pull her closer. You kiss the tip of her nose and she rustles about in her sleep. It’s adorable to you. She groans, and begs you to “stop it” with her morning voice, but you can’t help your
self, especially when she speaks, because she has the voice of an angel.
You flip her onto her back, slide between her legs, and kiss her from head to toe.
You tell her how much you love her as you eat her pussy, sweet and fresh from the shower she took the night before.
And when you’re done eating her, you take her. You make love to her. You make her yours all over again, all while murmuring you will never let her go.
Do you see it?
Do you get it?
Well, I don’t.
I didn’t feel this way today. I hadn’t felt this way in years. My wife wasn’t in bed. She was in the shower, because she was too tired to take one last night.
I didn’t want her to come out. I know that’s bad to say, but it was true. I wanted her to disappear.
It was a mistake. Us . . . we were never supposed to do this. But she was so ignorant to it all.
She thought we truly were in love. She told her sister and her mother something silly about us every single day. I swear to God I was tired of overhearing those fucking phone calls.
She exaggerated most of the shit.
Well, more like all of it.
I wished I was in love with her, I really did. Being in love with her would have made this whole remarrying thing a hell of a lot easier.
But I wasn’t.
And I don’t think I was ever going be.
I rolled flat on my back, staring up at the white ceiling. The shower shut off, and I clutched the sheets.
She stepped out of the bathroom moments later, her hair damp, and her face clear of all makeup.
She wasn’t ugly.
She was beautiful. Gorgeous, really. She reminded me of the Barbie dolls Izzy used to play with. Tall and slender, but not taller than me. Blonde hair and wide, glass-blue eyes.
She spotted me looking, but she didn’t say anything. She just smiled, and walked to the closet to take down her outfit for the day, all while swinging her hips.