Hellions: Badlands: Next Generation

by Natalie Bennett

  He pulled the liquor from my grasp, the sudden movement spilling some over the rim and onto my hand. I watched in total fascination as he brought the bottle to his mouth, tipped it back, and began drinking as leisurely as I would a glass of water.

  I waited for him to sputter, gag, something, but he continued to chug, never breaking eye contact.

  For whatever reason, I placed my palm on his stomach. “Doesn’t that burn in here?”

  He finally stopped his disturbing consumption and pulled the rim from his mouth with a grin.

  “Naw.” He placed his hand over mine and all but shoved the noticeably lighter bottle into my chest. “Your turn.”

  “You had your mouth on that,” I stated childishly.

  “So? My mouth will be on a lot of things of yours. Sharing is caring.”

  Rolling my eyes, I raised the bottle and let the potent liquid siphon down my throat, praying to Satanas that I kept it all down.

  In hindsight, this was a terrible idea. Nothing said common sense like drinking with the man who’d held a knife at my throat before we’d had any introduction. This was the same man who should have been a natural born enemy. Also, someone I was ridiculously attracted to.

  So, yeah, this wasn’t my finest hour, but at the moment, I just simply didn’t give a fuck. He and the alcohol were a welcome distraction, even though the intense burn meant I wasn’t able to take in nearly as much as he had.

  I coughed up a lung as I lowered the bottle from my mouth, eyes burning with unshed tears.

  “Well, you did a fuck of a lot better than I expected. Come here.” He laughed and led me across the room.

  The liquor was once again removed from my grasp, much easier this time, and placed on the nightstand. When I realized his intent was to place me on Butcher’s bed, I tried to pull away.

  “Uhn-uh,” I managed to protest as another coughing fit overtook me.

  His grip tightened and I found myself yanked down to sit on his lap. “What are you doing?” I asked the second I could speak again.

  “Being a chair.”

  “I’d rather be on the floor.”

  “Okay,” he replied with a shrug.

  Feeling his grip loosen, I reflexively reached for him, wrapping both arms around his neck.

  He slid to the ground, laughing, adjusting himself so that I remained securely where I was. “You can relax now,” he said after we sat there for a minute.

  Feeling heat explode in my cheeks, I dropped my hands to his shoulders and leaned back. “I thought you were going to drop me.”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  I peered at him quizzically, noting that he had a beauty mark beside the Venom insignia on his neck. His obsidian hair was perfectly tapered on the sides, longer strands brushed back flawlessly. It made him look sophisticated and classy.

  The alcohol swimming through my bloodstream made me more and more aware of our positioning.

  Warm breath fanned over my face. His perfectly plump lips hovered mere inches in front of mine. I was starting to feel flushed and had to quell the urge to rub my thighs together.

  He reached for the bottle on the nightstand at the same time he wrapped an arm around my waist, and I leaned into his embrace.

  This wasn’t usual for me. I didn’t do soft and pliant, but here and now it felt natural. My muddled brain couldn’t make sense of it. Maliki and I either avoided one another like the plague or engaged in a battle of who could aggravate the other faster. Sitting in his lap was…surreal.

  He was something I knew to admire from afar, like a fire. He was beautiful but also lethal, and getting too close poised a hazard to your health.

  I’d yet to forget what he whispered to me the night we took refuge at an old gas station.

  “What are we doing?”

  His response came after he took another healthy sip. “I’m not sure yet. All I know is that we’ve got a lot of shit to work through, so I want you to use me, and I’m going to use you.”

  I tried to process his words, but I wasn’t sure I was hearing him correctly.

  “What do you want to use me for?”

  “Everything that matters.”

  I didn’t need to be all the way sober for that to sink in.

  “You know, you’re one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met? This isn’t funny.” I tried to get up, but he wouldn’t let me.

  “You’re right, I am an asshole, but I didn’t follow you in here to play with you…not in that way.”

  “You don’t even like me,” I muttered, attempting once more to push away.

  My resistance had him pulling me even closer. “I don’t like ninety-nine percent of people, but you’ve always been in the one percentile.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “With words alone, I didn’t expect you to…but you’re in my lap right now, so you’re basically sitting on a throne.”

  I laughed, sounding slightly hoarse from the kerosene I’d dumped down my throat. “That’s really pig-headed.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the only person special enough to sit here.”

  That was a new one.

  I peered at him through lowered lashes, unsure what I was supposed to do with this spontaneous change in our…relationship.

  Diverting my gaze to his lips, I stared for a second or two. How would they feel pressed against mine?

  I discovered they were more than just something nice to look at. They were soft, smooth, and they held remnants of liquor. They pressed back with the same pressure I applied before the miniscule thread of restraint between us snapped.

  Lips parted and his tongue intertwined with mine. There was a soft thud—the bottle placed back down—and then strong hands dropped to my waist, forcibly turning me so that I was straddling him.

  My hands found their way to the back of his neck. One of his slipped down to grip my ass.

  I ground against his hardening cock, a soft moan passing between us. The flushed feeling rapidly became something more, something hotter. I felt myself begin to throb, arousal gathering between my legs.

  His hands moved back to my hips, their grip strong enough to bruise. The fabric of our jeans served as the only barrier between us. A sound of frustration escaped from my throat, and he pulled back.

  There weren’t any words spoken, just a look that told one another all we needed to know.

  My shirt disappeared, the clasp of my bra nearly torn open right after. The silk garment sailed across the room and joined my top.

  His hands roamed freely over my back, almost as if he were massaging the skin.

  When they came around, each firmly cupping one of my breasts, his thumbs circled budding nipples. We turned carnal and teeth clashed as the kiss grew deeper, hungrier.

  He shoved me forward without warning, flattening me beneath him. A rush of air left my lungs as I landed on the floor. Before I could draw in another, he was on me.

  Warm breath fanned over my neck, and my head turned on its own accord to give him better access. He nipped the flesh, causing me to whimper, soothing the sting away with his tongue.

  His touch was everywhere, his mouth following right behind…between my breasts, skimming over my navel, stopping when he reached the waistline of my jeans.

  He pulled them off, dragging my underwear down in the process and discarding both somewhere off to the side.

  Completely naked, his gaze swept over my body from head to toe, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

  “So perfect,” he murmured before pulling his beater over his head.

  I practically salivated at the sight of his solid torso. His body looked as if it were chiseled from stone.

  Gripping my knees, he spread my thighs and sucked in a quiet breath, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. “Damn, that is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

  I unabashedly spread my legs further, the ache pulsating through my body, demanding he fill me.

  With a wicked grin, he lowered his je
ans over his hips, revealing that he wore no boxers underneath.

  I had mere seconds to take in the low curls around a thick, long cock jutting away from his stomach before he lurched down, his jeans just low enough to not be in the way.

  Bracing one hand beside my face, he pinned me in place with his piercing gaze and positioned himself between my legs.

  With no preamble, he took hold of my wrists and imprisoned them above my head, flexed his hips, and fully penetrated me.

  The intrusion had my back arching and a shallow moan flying from my mouth.

  His girth stretched me in ways I’d never been stretched before, the sheer size of him filling me to capacity.

  “I can’t do this,” I breathed, squirming around the pulsing cock seated deep inside me.

  “You don’t have a choice. Be a good girl and take this dick.” He withdrew and then brutally thrust himself back in, stretching me further.

  I cried out, feeling every inch of him. There was no holding back from there. He was like a beast, fucking me with zero restraint.

  Leaning low, he released my wrists and brought his solid chest to mine, thrusting hard and deep with every piston of his hips.

  The solid floor beneath us added to the slight discomfort of him being inside me. Pain intermingled with toe-curling pleasure, and each thrust had a hint of something building

  My juices drenched his cock to the point that every time he withdrew and slammed back in, the sound reverberated with the slapping of our skin.

  The walls of my pussy began contracting as the sensation grew. I grabbed at his back, raking my nails down smooth flesh as foreign sounds and things I never thought I’d say poured from my mouth.

  I was so caught up in him, I almost didn’t see the way he noted every sigh, moan, and whimper, committing them to memory.

  “Malik,” I moaned, feeling my legs begin to tremble.

  “You’re gonna come,” he noted with no noticeable change in his inflection aside from a slight rasp.

  He locked my thighs around his waist, grabbed my throat, and lifted me from the floor with his cock still buried inside me as if it could rip me in half.

  He turned and dropped me onto Butcher’s bed, keeping his hand where it was, forcing me to remain still and take everything he gave, fucking me with fresh vigor.

  The new position put him in direct contact with my G-spot. His cock stroked it three times and then my muscles went taut and blackness infringed on my vision as I writhed beneath him, pussy clenching his cock, pure bliss washing over me.

  “Damn,” he groaned, forcing himself even deeper inside me. He kept going, showing no signs of stopping.

  His last clear sentence h was whispered in my ear as I came, clinging to his sweaty body. “One day, you’re going to be mine.”

  As the night wore on, he grew more intense, a tad more vicious. The grip on my throat tightened every time my wanton moans pitched too high in volume. Had I been fully sober, I’d have realized he was holding back, giving me a mere fraction of himself. I would have realized his exclamation was more than words spoken in a heated moment; they were a dark promise of what was to come.

  We made a mess of the sheets and each other with no regard for anything or anyone.

  That was the first time I fucked a man I should have hated in my ex’s bed, an illicit act I could blame on the liquor coursing through my veins.

  The second time, I was sober.

  Chapter Two

  Duo

  3 Weeks Later

  We were at another dive-bar in another shit hole reminiscent of a town.

  This had gotten old about four stops back. We’d become dogs chasing our tales, running in circles and getting absolutely nowhere on our list of missing persons.

  I took another sip of beer that tasted like warm piss, damn near having to force it down my throat.

  These people should have been ashamed of themselves for serving such bullshit. Not that I expected grade A alcohol in a place like this, but I would have liked to have had some type of buzz.

  I knew these hillbilly fucks didn’t have the means to make quality spirits; that was obvious by the poor condition of their ‘establishment.’

  Ignoring the blonde and her cherry headed friend standing on my right, I took my fifth perusal of the room. The paneled walls were eroding, peeking from beneath worn posters of naked women. In some places, the wooden floor was sunken. In others, random rugs had been laid down to hide missing planks.

  I had no judgment in terms of poverty.

  I came from the slums of hell myself, and I knew how hard it was to find your way out.

  It was the pretending to be what they weren’t that rubbed me wrong, which was pretty fucking hypocritical considering how great an actor I’d become lately.

  Zane was still speaking to the man posing as a bartender, his arm slung over his girl’s shoulder. If the two of them got any closer, they’d be molded together as one. He always found a way to touch Addy.

  Up until a few days ago, I thought he wasn’t aware of this little habit, but he’d since then admitted he needed to do it. He never elaborated as to why, and I never needed to ask.

  There wasn’t much about Zane that I didn’t understand.

  Greer was on the other side of them, wisely keeping a safe distance between himself and the Savage princess, since Z was as territorial as a guard dog on speed.

  My attention was slowly but surely pulled towards the far side of the bar. In the second to last chair was Trix, a glass like mine in her hand. Beside her was the source of a fascination that bordered on obsessive.

  Her downcast gaze and dark chocolate tresses hid her face from view, but I’d studied her so much the past few weeks that her every feature was etched into my brain.

  Nyx was an intricate work of art. She wasn’t someone you couldn’t not, not notice. When you did? It would result in staring at her for an endless amount of time.

  Like Zane, I hadn’t been aware I was doing this until he took it upon himself to point it out.

  Also like Zane, I couldn’t seem to stop. I wasn’t all that worried when she caught me doing it. I made sure my face never gave anything away.

  I hadn’t thought much of her at first. In the early days, she was merely some chick Butcher bragged about. Then, she was simply Adelaide’s cousin, someone I found intriguing.

  And then we fucked—twice.

  I’d only intended for it to be once. It was the most vanilla thing I’d done in months, but in a good way.

  The next morning, before the sun fully rose, she was there, I was hard, and I needed more. She gave herself to me with shyly parted thighs and uncertainty caused by insecurities that hadn’t been there the first time.

  I knew why.

  Her piece of shit ex had gotten to her. Some part of her beautiful brain found flaws and faults where there were none. She was fucking flawless from the inside out.

  Over the last three weeks, after constantly being around one another, we’d fallen into an oddly comforting companionship. It was never discussed or acknowledged, and neither was that night.

  We were what we were.

  We clicked like two matching pieces of a puzzle…although one had been set on fire, trampled, and left in the mud. While not a pretty picture, everything else was perfect.

  She always listened when I had something to say, like she understood half the shit moving from my brain to my mouth.

  Feeling a hand on my arm, I turned my head and stared at the blonde who was determined to hold my attention.

  “Is that your girlfriend?” Her silver eyes darted in Nyx’s direction, her upper lip slightly curling in disdain.

  I wanted to toss her skinny ass across the room for that. “If she is?”

  She blinked up at me, slightly taken aback by my bluntness. Trying to save face, she smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder before stepping closer, damn near resting her tits on my forearm.

  “Then it would be wrong to invite you down to
my room,” she replied just loud enough to be heard over an old jukebox song.

  We both knew she didn’t actually give a shit. She would ride my dick no matter my relationship status.

  She’d been trying too hard since I walked in the door, pretending she’d drank too much when we both had the same weak ass drink in our cups.

  I knew what it was she wanted before she even spoke. Needy desperation clung to her like a second skin. I took in her face, severely unimpressed. She wasn’t ugly, wasn’t cute. If anything, she was plainly average and resembled someone else I used to know. Regardless, I didn’t want to fuck her.

  I hadn’t gotten any ass in almost a month, and I was surprised the skin on my palm wasn’t peeling yet from how often I was jerking my dick, but I still wasn’t going to stick it in this random chick.

  That was an extreme way to see if it would burn off.

  But, seeing as how what I desired was unobtainable—for now—I was going to indulge a different type of release. I may not have wanted this bitch, but I had a thing for stuck up blondes.

  It mainly consisted of sinking my horned Italian stiletto into their flesh.

  “She’s just a friend,” I replied as nonchalantly as I could, pretending those four words didn’t aggravate the hell out of me. “So why don’t you lead the way?” I gave her a flirtatious smile.

  She grabbed my hand and nodded, looking back at the redhead with an excited grin. “Give me an hour or two.”

  The woman opened her mouth, no doubt to object being left behind while her friend got fucked every which way to Sunday.

  We were gone before she could get out more than an outraged scoff.

  I let the blonde think she was dragging me away, nudging Zane as we by-passed the bar so that he knew I’d be gone for a while. A couple of whoops rang across the room, people thinking this was something other than what it was.

  Outside, the woman peered over her shoulder again as if to make sure I was still there, and then she started for the inn across the street.

  It was the same one that my group had claimed a few rooms in earlier.

  Considering some of the other places we’d wound up sleeping the past few weeks, this one wasn’t half bad. It was a run-down building in dire need of a makeover, but the inside wasn’t too terrible. It was better than the bar.