He wanted to hurt Lancaster. I felt it. It throbbed through the room. He wanted to make the person who’d put this fear in me understand what fear truly was, and because I was made to be this man’s, because I was his fucking mate, I understood, and I fed off that. Sick, but true.
I tossed my hair over my shoulder as I thought about what I’d just left behind. A woman who wanted to kill herself, a woman who had almost died from an infection we were barely managing to keep under control, and a woman who was practically catatonic…all that perpetrated by Lancaster. And ‘they’ thought my man was evil?
It came in all shapes and sizes, but I’d faced true evil, and I knew Nyx had faced it before and would face it again, only finding relief when he could bathe in someone’s blood.
Because I needed the relief, the release, because I understood now, I ground out, “Lancaster’s gone, but I think it’s time we rode.”
Because we were in sync, he tilted his head to the side. “We have to be careful. The club’s under scrutiny thanks to the investigation.”
“We’ll ride further. There are sick fucks everywhere, aren’t there?”
His mouth tightened. “You don’t want to see—”
“I want to do more than see,” I rasped, tipping my chin up. “Lancaster can’t pay, but other bastards can.” I was talking about murder. About torture. But fuck…that anger in him, the rage in me, it had to go somewhere. We had to burn it off. Between the sheets, on the road, together. We’d burn in the flames we created as a couple.
A breath exploded from him. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do at this moment, and before here, now, I didn’t know I could want a woman as much as I want you.”
Butterflies exploded into being in my stomach. “I love you,” I whispered.
His eyes darkened. “Babe, I love you.” His words were a rumble, a thunder that connected with me on a base level.
I swallowed, overcome and hyperaware, and then I took in the bigger picture, saw his dick had softened and, fuck, I wasn’t about to have that.
My mood had changed so many times in the past five minutes that I wasn’t as horny as I’d been, but I wanted to connect with him, wanted to be at one with him, so I started pulling off my clothes, clothes that had been in a room with the sickness of Lancaster’s actions, and I dumped them in the laundry bin.
When I was naked, his cock was delightfully hard once more, and I smirked at the sight even as I reached up and jiggled my tits, laughing as he scowled at me.
“Get that fine ass in the shower before I make use of that jiggle.”
“That supposed to be a threat?” I jeered, but because I really didn’t want to smell like a sickroom as we hooked up, I hopped into the shower and turned on the water. All the while, as it heated up, our eyes were joined, and the fire sparked into being between us in a way that told me there was no chance of this connection ever dying.
This was it for us.
I was his.
He was mine.
I sucked down a sharp breath and broke the connection because the need to get clean was more imperative than before.
Smart man that he was, he didn’t join me at first, but I saw his shadow through the curtain once I closed it enough so that the floor wouldn’t be drenched. I washed up, sponged my entire body in his soap, and only after two minutes had passed did he step into the shower with me.
A growl rumbled in his throat once more as he took in my soapy glory, and I reveled in it. Tossing my head back, I stared at him with defiance. A defiance that told him for all he was the King of the Darkness, I was his fucking Queen.
And if he fucking forgot that, I’d make him pay.
His eyes flashed, his jaw tensed, and in less than a second he was there, he was on me. He pushed me into the shower wall even as he dragged me up, widening my legs so he could step between them while I hooked my thighs around his hips. His cock was there, a burning brand against tender flesh that still choked on him on a routine basis, and his mouth was on mine.
I felt his hunger. Was seared in his rage. And was reborn in his love.
My eyes grew wet with tears as he thrust his tongue against mine, his hands reaching for my own and pushing them overhead, pinning me to the wall. The water and soap had taken away my own natural lube, but the pressure of him there, what he made me feel, what he made me need, was all that took for me to feel like I was going to die if he didn’t get inside me. Right. This. Fucking. Second.
I squirmed against him, my body slippery as it slid against his hardness, and his cock twitched as I used the lack of friction to get myself off, using all those metal studs and piercings to my benefit.
When he fucked my mouth, I groaned into him and he swallowed it, even as he reached between us, grabbed a firm hold of his dick, and pressed it to my gate.
Slowly, he pushed in.
Slowly, he reclaimed me.
He was too big to take me roughly, even if both our emotions were raging at a fever pitch. But that he took care, right at this moment, when we were both more animal than our regular selves, was just a reminder of what we were to one another.
As his cock tunneled into me, finally there, thrusting hard and fast as my body took everything he had to give, I felt the peace that had eluded me in the recent weeks. It was only here, with him, that I could forget everything, that I could focus on him and only him. On us, and what we made together.
A muffled moan escaped me as he thrust faster, harder, all those piercings going to work inside me like he was a magician and he was plying my body with magic. Gravity pulled me down, making him work more, and making me feel fuller, even as he emptied me by retreating only so he could stake another claim and another.
Then, a scream was ripped from me and I tore my mouth from his to release it, to let the bathroom walls around me absorb the sound of true ecstasy as his hard, brutal loving took me exactly where I needed to be.
It was fast, faster than usual for him, but I felt his cum explode into me. His heat branded me, and that was just the icing on the goddamn cake.
Of course, those were famous last words, because when he nipped my bottom lip, hard enough to sting, that was the icing on the goddamn cake. And the sprinkles?
Well, they were liberally poured over every-fucking-thing when he ground out, “Mine.”
And because I was no shrinking violet, I rasped right back, “Mine,” and when I nipped his lip?
I didn’t do it to sting.
I did it hard enough to mark.
That single bead of blood was mine.
As was the fire in his eyes and the happiness in his bloodied smile.
“Fucking love you,” he rumbled, pushing his forehead into mine as the swirls of steam from the shower clouded around us.
“Fucking love you too,” I retorted, sliding my arms tighter around him. “Need you, baby. So damn much.”
“You’ll never not have me,” was his instant reply, and if that wasn’t a vow, I didn’t know what was.
Link
A few days later
I sucked her clit between my lips, smirking as she thrashed around on the sofa. Her hands were gripping my hair, and I knew she didn’t give a fuck about making me go bald which I’d admit to appreciating.
She was focused on her pleasure, more so than any other woman I’d ever fucked, and I’d fucked a lot. Sure, everyone concentrated on climaxing, but Lily? She did it with a force that stunned me each and every time I pulled shit like this on her because she was uncomfortable with her body, uneasy with being naked, and uncertain when it came time for me to touch her.
I knew why even if I didn’t understand what had made her this way.
Someone had taught her that sex was dirty. That it was something to be ashamed of. Maybe even that she was dirty. So, when she flung herself into what I was making her experience, it turned me on all the more because she was pushing herself through the shit someone had made her learn and embracing everything I had to give.
I’d gro
wn out of soft, vanilla shit when I was around seventeen, but the truth was, she was already fucked up, my kind of fucked up, so the least she deserved was someone leading her into this stuff with kindness.
One of my sex, a bastard, had taught her all the wrong crap. It was my duty to rectify that.
At least, that was what I was telling myself.
My focus fractured as she dug her heels into the soft cushions, arching up and shoving her pussy into my face. Mouth curving in a Joker grin, I slurped her down, loving her aggression, even more, loving her taste. Because fuck me, she tasted good. Salty, sweet. The best topping for popcorn ever.
I almost snickered at the thought, then I ignored the directions she was showing me with her hands and slipped down, tongue fucking her gash, licking up her juices, then doing something for me. I rimmed her asshole, smirking as her butt muscles clenched down, her little rosette tightening, and she released a squeal that was all shock and no pleasure.
Her hands tore at my hair again, but I didn’t stop. Even as her legs were clenching down around me, I carried her through the initial wave of disgust, continuing until she was writhing around once more.
When she climaxed, it took her aback, but not me. Every part of her tautened, her muscles surging up off the bed as she froze and allowed the power of her pleasure to guide her.
When she returned to Earth, I’d admit to two things.
One, my tongue ached like a fucker because that had taken a while to get her off—my fault. I liked her taste and her responses too much to go easy on her.
Two, my fucking hair ached where she’d almost wrenched it out at the roots.
What I wouldn’t admit to was the Cheshire grin I was wearing, or the fact that when I looked at her, legs splayed, pussy juicy and bright pink and right in my line of sight, I knew she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life.
Her eyes were closed, her chest rose and fell in deep, jarring movements as she tried to get her breath back, and the back of one hand rested against her forehead.
A few days of touching her, kissing her, petting her like I was back in fucking high school, had opened her to me in more ways than I’d expected. Learning she was a virgin had kind of messed with my head. I didn’t know anyone who left their teen years nowadays with that label, but she did.
Had.
And I wanted it.
I wanted to own that part of her.
Her hymen had my name on it.
Which was beyond fucked up.
I didn’t want any part of any woman long term. I liked to fuck ‘em and do my own shit. I had a preference among the sweetbutts, but even then, it was fun. They knew what I was like, knew what I was into, and knew that if they let me do whatever I wanted, I’d make them come so hard they’d be seeing stars for a week.
So, as I stayed where I was, kneeling in front of the sofa, and as I looked over the curves of her body from that angle, I wondered what it was about Lily that was different.
If Rex had been another Prez, he’d have ordered me to get in with her to spy, to see if she was genuine in her admission to help Giulia. But that hadn’t been my intent behind getting her. Sure, I was monitoring shit—no way was Giulia going to get hurt on my watch—but when I looked at Lily, I saw that same fracture deep in her eyes as I’d seen in Giulia. It was their spirit. Their souls. Someone had hurt them. Ruptured something that belonged only to them. Tainted what should have been pure and damaged it forever.
Now, however, I couldn’t use that as an excuse.
How the fuck could I when her calves had settled on my goddamn shoulders?
No, shit had moved past that two weeks ago when I’d felt compelled to get her a burner cell. When she’d texted me and we’d had a fucking giggle over the shit we’d been sharing with one another. When she’d asked me, without saying it outright, to be her first.
That shit did something to a man. Sure, most would run for the hills. Some might even stay, fuck her to claim that first time, then ghost her. Others might want to keep what they’d taken…
I had a funny fucking feeling I was going to be the latter.
Just looking at her made shit inside me turn chaotic and chaos—though I liked it in others—for a man like me, was never a good thing.
Because I was feeling irritable, I turned my head to the side and nipped her inner thigh, just above her knee. She jerked and her eyes opened, and she proceeded to drowsily scowl at me.
“What was that for?” she slurred, making me laugh because she sounded like she was drunk.
“Because.”
She groused, “Because what?” She began to move her legs, but I reached up and clamped my hands down around her knees so she couldn’t move—not in any direction I didn’t want her to.
Her eyes flared wide when I hauled her farther down the sofa and shoved my face against the sweetest cunt I’d ever known. Her sob made me smile when I sucked on her clit, and she nearly fucking suffocated me as she half-shrieked, “No! Link! Nooo, too much, too much.”
“Never enough,” I grumbled against her slit, slurping up that tiny nubbin, dragging it back to life so I could blow her fucking mind and ink on her fucking soul that I was the one to give her this. That it was me focused on her, giving her what she needed, taking what I wanted, to make sure she was ready for what I was going to give her.
She tensed and relaxed all the way through it, moaning and sobbing, hands flailing on the cushions, feet digging into my shoulders as I dragged her tight ass up the path of pleasure, forcing her to come as I focused on fucking that little clit like there was no tomorrow.
The orgasm was hard won, and when she screamed, I had to hope this mini Playboy fucking mansion was soundproofed, because that time?
She made my ears ring.
She yelled until she was hoarse, until she was whimpering, reduced to a moaning mass of nerves that I’d stamped my claim on.
Her legs were limp as I surged off the floor and into a standing position. As I unbuckled my belt, I watched her, amused to note she didn’t even notice my change of position. She was in her own world, a world I’d taken her to.
Unfastening my jeans, I shucked out of them. I’d taken off my boots and cut earlier on, and when she’d gotten naked, I’d taken off my Henley, so it took me less than five seconds to strip them off.
When I was bare, I climbed onto the sofa, crawling over her until I could settle my dick against her cunt. Her heat had me hissing, and that was what woke her up. That noise. Her eyes flared wide again as she looked at me, took me and my new position in. Then she fucking broke me. She swallowed. The tiniest motion of her throat muscles, followed by the instant shielding of her eyes as she dropped her lashes.
I’d had no intention of fucking her tonight. But if I had? That intention was long gone with that microexpression that was like a stake to my goddamn heart.
“Put your legs around my hips,” I muttered, feeling a little raw after that glimpse into something I didn’t understand yet, just knew to approach with caution.
She obeyed, and that same stillness was there, making me grit my teeth even as she obeyed. A surprised yelp escaped her when I twisted us over so I was on my back and she was on top of me. My hands settled on her ass, and I contented myself, soothed myself in truth, by clenching down on that luscious butt of hers and pulling at her cheeks, kneading them for my pleasure more than hers.
“Go to sleep,” I grunted, semi-pissed that even after I’d gentled her, she was still scared. Yet I was also aware that Rome hadn’t been built in a fucking day, so I needed to chill the fuck out.
“S-Sleep?” she replied, voice shaking with her surprise.
“Yeah. Sleep,” I muttered, moving one hand to cup the back of her head, then shoving her face into my throat so I could rest my head against hers.
“Like this?” she asked, muffled.
“Like this,” I confirmed.
When she went boneless, I knew she liked what I’d asked of her. Maybe not just because
I wasn’t going to fuck her and she wasn’t ready for that yet. Maybe because she liked being as close to me as I liked being close to her.
Who the fuck knew?
I closed my eyes, appreciated the silk of her against me, her slick heat cosseting my cock even if it was left out in the cold, the meat of her ass in one hand, my fingers curved inward toward the pucker that was my favorite goddamn place in the whole world, and semi-content, I let myself rest, knowing she was going to as well.
When I awoke, a few hours later I’d guess from the fact the birds were tweeting like shit when it had been pitch-black before, I had to admit that was the best sleep I’d had in a long while.
Even better?
She hadn’t moved a goddamn inch.
She was right there where I’d left her.
And fuck if it wasn’t epic to wake up like this.
A tiny moan escaped her at what, I assumed, were my minute movements now that I’d woken up, but when she flinched and let out a sharp gasp, I knew she was in the throes of a dream. Even in this, Lily was a fucking lady. No screams or thrashing for her. Nope. She had to stay composed even in the middle of a nightmare. That was why I liked breaking her composure when I went down on her. It made my fucking day to rupture her conditioning, forcing her to give me the real Lily and not the doll she was most of the time thanks to her upbringing.
Because I didn’t like that her dream was upsetting her, I stroked along her back, soothing her even as I murmured her name, and alternated between nibbling on her throat and sucking down on the bite mark I’d given her that first night. It was still bruised, still purple, and would be for a while if I had my way. She hadn’t complained about it, and around the edges, I saw stains of makeup which told me she covered it up through the day, then before we met at her friend’s place, she removed the gunk to let me see it when we were together.
I kind of liked that.
Weirdo that I was.
“Luke, no! Don’t do it. Please!” The cry was muted, but her heavy intake of air wasn’t, and while I was on red alert now because she’d uttered that cunt’s name, I processed what that might mean. What her nightmare might represent.
Forgotten & Found: A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Boxset Page 44