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 a week 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, was 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.
“Lily,” I rasped, urging her awake when she alternated between tensing and relaxing once more, all her muscles reacting as though they’d been electrocuted before she slumped on me like a vat of goo.
Then, she mumbled, “Link?”
My dick twitched at just how good my name sounded coming out of her when she was half-asleep. She must have felt it, because she sighed, rocked her hips, then muttered, “You feel good.”
I’d have expected her reaction to be negative, especially after last night had shown me she wasn’t ready for more, but instead, she wiggled again until I reached down, clamped my hands on her ass cheeks, pulled them apart, and grumbled, “Stop grinding against me, babe. You ain’t ready for what my cock wants.”
A hum escaped her, but it was in direct contrast to the tensing of her ass cheeks—confirming my theory that she didn’t really like her ass being touched. “Only your cock? Not you?”
My lips curved even as I tilted my head until we were connected again. “My penis has a mind of its own. IQ of one eighty.”
She whistled under her breath. “Yikes. Your cock is smarter than Einstein?”
“Yup. It’s something I’ve had to learn to live with.”
A snicker escaped her. “I’ll bet. Nut.”
“Literally,” I
said with a smirk that had her snicker morphing into a chuckle.
She twisted slightly so she could lift her head and look me in the eye. “Hey.” There was a shyness to her tone that amused me, especially in the light of the fact her dried cunt juices were still around my goddamn mouth and my cock was burrowed between her pussy lips, but I let her have it because I liked her like this.
Soft. Playful. Her sense of humor warped—just like mine.
Giving her that phone had changed shit. Not simply because it led us here, to this moment in time, this place. But because it also meant I saw a side of her I wasn’t sure I’d have seen otherwise.
Free from anyone checking her phone, she’d been herself. And that ‘herself’ was someone I liked.
A lot.
“Hey,” I repeated, my lips twitching as she looked at me, her gaze drifting over my features. “You making a map of my face or something?”
“I thought it might be a cool thing to have on my wall.”
“My face or a map of it?”
She snorted. “I dunno. You’re pretty, but a map would be cooler.” She leaned on her hand, which changed the pressure of where our bodies connected, and reached up to rub her fingers over the bump on my nose. “We’ll call this Anger Ridge.”
“How do you know it was made in anger?”
“Who gets their nose broken outside of a fight?”
“Boys.” My tone was dry. “Adrenaline Alley. I fell off a tree.”
She narrowed her eyes. “For fun?”
“Who the fuck climbs a tree if it isn’t for fun?”
“Not girls,” she retorted.
“Well, that’s why you’re all so much fucking smarter than boys.”
“You weren’t being chased?”
“Up a tree? I ain’t a cat, babe.”
“True.” She laughed a little. “I suppose there are girls who like to climb trees. I was never one of them.”
“Were you always playing with dolls and shit?”
She pulled a face. “No! Ew.”
“Dolls trigger an ‘ew?’” I arched a brow at her.
“They sure as hell do. I was never a girly-girl. But I wasn’t a tomboy either. I liked reading, learning. Mostly I liked being inside. I—” Her mouth worked a little and her smile flashed, disappearing in the blink of an eye. “Never mind.”
“Nope. Not never mind. What were you going to say?”
She cringed, then huffed out a breath when I just cocked a brow at her, silently telling her I wasn’t going to let her change the subject without her explaining.
“Luke liked being outside,” she said gruffly.
“And you liked being anywhere he wasn’t?” At her nod, I beamed a smile at her. “There’s my girl. Had taste, even from a young age.”
She snorted, then jolted in surprise when I grabbed her hips and rocked mine up so my dick brushed her pussy. She relaxed, though, when I didn’t make another move, just kept us close.
“Your girl, huh?” she questioned after a few seconds.
I shrugged. “See anyone else in the room?”
“No. I don’t,” she replied dryly.
I got the feeling she wanted me to say more, to add something, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what. But what could I say? We’d been texting for a while, petting like we were horny high schoolers for the past couple days…barely any time at all in the grand scheme of things. Even if I was going to admit to feeling possessive of her, there was too much shit I didn’t know about her and that she didn’t know about me for us to think about anything deeper.
Plus, I was an MC brother. Rough and ready. Raw and crude. She was the exact opposite. Every part of her was refined. Every part of her elegant. Even her workout gear was smart and snazzy. She oozed money from her fucking pores. We couldn’t have been more opposite, yet here she was. Her virgin cunt inches away from my anything but virgin dick.
I’d admit…I liked that she wanted deeper. Even if it was way too soon for that shit. She wasn’t like the prissy country clubbers I’d come across in the past. Didn’t want a hard fuck on the wild side to rebel against a snooty father. In truth, I didn’t know what she wanted.
Maybe I didn’t know what I wanted either.
Except for…well, knowing more about her.
With that in mind, I asked, “What did he do to you?”
Her brows rose. “My father?”
“The cunt.”
She tensed a little. “Nothing.”
“Liar,” I challenged softly. When her gaze darted away, she compounded the irritation I felt at her lying. My hand snapped up to grab the back of her neck. One hand on her ass, the other on her neck, I hauled her up so we were nose to fucking nose. “Don’t. Lie. To. Me.”
Her eyes went wide, like saucers, and she rasped, “I won’t.” I heard the arousal melded with the shock in her words and had to hide a smirk, even as I took a mental note that she liked me being rough with her.
I rubbed where my thumbs had dug in around her neck, and demanded, “What did he do to you?”
Her lashes fluttered. “It wasn’t to me.”
My brow puckered. “Huh?”
She dropped her gaze to my lips and, focusing on my mouth, whispered, “H-He used to rape the maids.”
I tensed. “You’re shitting me?”
“N-No. I wish I was.” She blew out a breath. “First time I heard…what he was doing, I was five.”
My body jolted in rejection of her words. “Five?” I breathed.
Lily dipped her chin. “Yeah.” I let her burrow away, let her hide, because although this wasn’t as bad as I expected—the fucker hadn’t raped her after all—what he’d put her through was something no one should have to endure. Psychological torture…fuck. She put her forehead to my stubbled jaw and whispered, “I didn’t understand. Not at first.”
“Why would you? You were a baby.”
She shivered. “Not for long in my house.”
“He didn’t do it to you?”
“It’s difficult to explain,” she muttered, her forehead rocking against my jaw.
I moved my hands again, this time settling them around her waist, holding her against me as I told her, “You’re safe now, Lily. Not only because he’s dead, but because I will kill any fucker who tries to hurt you. Hear me?”
“I hear you.” The words were dull. Wooden.
“You’re not hearing me,” I retorted, then, in her ear, I whispered, “I’ve killed men, Lily. I know what it is to take a life. You’re safe when you’re with me.”
“You can’t always be with me,” she rasped. “Nor would I expect you to be.” She squeezed my bicep. “I’ll only be safe when my father’s dead. He’s as much of a threat to me as Luke was.”
Because I was floating through a puddle of shit, I requested, “Explain, please?”
She released a shaky breath. “Luke was ten years older than me, but worse, he was the only son Mom managed to have. There were two kids between me and Luke, both girls. One she lost in a miscarriage, and I’m pretty damn certain my father beat her while she was pregnant and that was why she lost my sister. The other died of meningitis. Lissa was only three at the time.” She bit her lip. “Father thought the sun rose and set on Luke. Always did. He could do nothing wrong, and because he’s as warped as Luke, it made sense that he turned a blind eye to whatever he did.
“I mean, I know Father has a few mistresses dotted around the place, but the maids have never been safe from either of them.” She blew out a breath. “When I had to start hiring people, I always tried to get men, because I knew what they were both like. But Father would just get his secretary to hire some poor woman and—” She gulped. “I knew what they’d do to her. Knew it and couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. It was made very clear what would happen to me if I—”
“If you what?” I demanded, repulsed and disgusted by what she was saying.
“Like I said, I was five when I saw Luke that first time. He was only fifte
en. He was weird back then too. It wasn’t like it happened overnight, or some trauma made him that way.” She grunted. “He had the strangest eyes. It was like he knew everything. He could look at me and he’d know if I was lying, or if I was sad, or scared. And if I was happy, he’d know, and he’d do whatever he could to make me unhappy.
“I knew to avoid him, knew it and worked hard to stay out of his way, but he wouldn’t always let me. I knew, too, that if I didn’t do what Luke wanted, he’d tell Father and Father would punish me.”
“Used his hands on you?”
“Hands. Belt. Brush. Shoe, one time.” She shrugged. “He’s better now. Mostly just his hands.”
Rage unfurled inside me like a black rose. It surged to the surface and I struggled to keep it under wraps. “He violate you?”
“Yes,” she said simply, making me close my eyes to process that answer.
But she was a virgin… “How?” Then I cursed myself for being a dumbass because I knew.
Motherfucker.
“Fucked you in the ass?”
That was why she’d jolted last night and this morning when I gave her butt some loving.
“Yes. My cunt is for sale,” she rasped, making me jerk beneath her. “He’s always been waiting for the right deal where he can use me as leverage.”
As a lot of things slotted into place, I whispered, “He found someone?”
“Before Luke died, there was talk between them.”
I sucked in a breath. “Why didn’t you run away?”
“I did. Twice.”
I fucking hated this dead tone of voice of hers, even as I understood it, I loathed it. I tightened my arms around her and questioned, “What happened?”
“Beatings. Thought he was going to kill me the second time. Almost wished he had.” She laughed, but it was mirthless. “The rapes hurt, but it was watching what Luke did to the maids that messed with my head. Sometimes he made me—”
Link: SATAN’S SINNERS’ MC: TWO Page 17