Stone Cold Queen: Sick Boys Book 2

by Smoke , Lucy

  My fingers piston into her pussy. "Come on, baby," I whisper against her wet flesh. "Come for me." And finally, she does. Her pussy walls clamp down on my hand, squeezing my fingers inside of her flesh with hard contractions as her thighs shake uncontrollably and her mouth opens on a piercing scream.

  I'm not done. Not by a long shot. The second her pussy releases me, I yank my fingers out. My hands fly to my jeans, and I free myself, spreading her thighs wide as I line up and push the head of my cock into her still somewhat spasming cunt.

  I stand over her, staring down into her flushed face as I slowly, inexorably thrust my cock home. Her arms come up, her hands finding my shoulders as I begin to fuck her just like I promised myself I would. I pound into her pussy, gripping her hips hard and using them as leverage to pull her off and back on my cock.

  Her eyes are wide, and dark with their lust. She grits her teeth as I hit that ridge inside of her, fucking slamming my cock into her as my piercing drags over it again and again and again.

  "Fuck," I curse when her nails sink into my shoulder blades as she drags herself up and starts moving her hips against mine.

  "Come on, baby," she hisses back with a grin. This bitch. I fight a laugh. Instead, I loosen my grip on one of her hips and reach up to grab her hair. I gather as much as I can into my fist and yank her head back so that she has to stare up at me down her nose through slitted eyes.

  "You're going to come all over my cock," I warn her. "You're gonna fucking soak Luc Kincaid's bed with this pussy, baby, and when you do"—I pause, dragging my cock slowly out of her core, making her eyes roll back into her skull as I bring it fully out and then swipe the head up over her clit, letting her feel my piercing there before I shove it back into her—"you're going to scream."

  She laughs, breathless. "If you're going to make me scream," she replies, her words coming in increments as I thrust into her. Her eyes open again, and she stares right at me—a shit-eating grin on her face. "Then I suggest you stop talking and fuck me."

  "Your wish is my command," I reply with a smile that mirrors hers.

  I pound her even harder, slamming her into the bed, shoving her spine against the mattress and holding her down as I reach for her legs, dragging them up until her ankles are pressed to my neck. My hands wrap around her thighs, using them as handholds as I fuck into her over and over again. My cock swells, and I reach around, thumbing her clit as she starts to shake again.

  But my girl is determined. She's not ready to come again just yet, and she wants to make me work for it. I can't help but feel a sense of excitement. I know what she wants. She wants me to hurt her. Pushing her further up on Kincaid's bed, I come down hard on top of her. She drags her nails over my back and down my arms, and if it weren't for my t-shirt, I knew she would've drawn blood.

  That's just like us. We fuck like monsters. Out of our fucking heads. Hell, I feel like I'm trying to kill her with my cock. My hand finds her throat, and I clamp down, squeezing the sides. Her eyes widen, and her lips part. Leaning down, I press my mouth to the side of her head.

  "Does this remind you of anything, baby?" I ask. Because it reminds me of our very first fuck. The beach house. If I could go back to that night and day, I wouldn't leave when Abel and Braxton came. I'd kick those fuckers out, tie her to the bed and fuck her for another week straight. Fact is, I don't think I'll ever get enough of Avalon Manning. She's in my head. In my heart. In my fucking soul.

  She rasps something back, and I lift my hand away from her throat to let her speak. She turns her cheek so that she's looking at me, her head moving up and down as I continue to thrust into her. "Harder," she says with a grin. "If you want me to scream, then fuck me like you fucking hate me, D-man."

  So, I do. I rear up, and my hand finds her neck once more. Squeezing hard as I hammer that pussy. My balls draw up. In the distance, I can hear voices. One angry and two calmer. Moment of fucking truth. I release her throat and reach down, pinching her clit as I finally erupt.

  Avalon's lips part, and she screams, long and hard, like I'm fucking killing her. Maybe I am, I think distantly as I feel her pussy tighten around me and milk me for all I'm worth. Hell, maybe the issue is me. Maybe the threat isn't Luc Kincaid at all. Maybe it's me.

  35

  Avalon

  After coming a second time on Dean's cock in Luc Kincaid's bedroom, I drift down from the high to the sound of multiple men cursing loudly and something breaking in the hallway. I jerk up, nearly knocking my head into Dean's chin.

  He quickly yanks his head back and looks at me with an arched brow. "Headbutting me now, baby?" he asks. “I would’ve thought after that, you’d like me a bit better.”

  I ignore his comment, turning my head to the doorway. "He's back," I say.

  Dean backs up, his cock slipping from my now sore pussy. Shit, what the hell had I been thinking, letting him fuck me here? This had been such a bad idea from the start. I shouldn't have let it happen, but he was right—saying no to Dean was damn near impossible. If there was an invisible tattoo for dickmatized, it would be scrawled across my forehead right now. I crawl off the bed and yank the remains of my underwear off, tossing them into the trashcan I see hidden beneath Luc's desk before grabbing my jeans and yanking them on.

  Dean's already got himself cleaned up, but not me. I can feel his cum still inside my pussy, some of it leaking out and sliding down my thigh inside my pants. "I need the bathroom," I say quickly, spotting a door to one across from the bed. I don't wait for Dean to say anything before I head for it, slamming the door behind me.

  I quickly clean myself up once more and wash my hands before catching sight of my face in the wide framed mirror above the sink. I pause and just stare for a moment, shocked at the woman in front of me. Six months ago, I never would have believed I'd be here right now. I certainly never would have guessed I'd be fucking Dean Carter in his enemy's bedroom. Yet, that's exactly what I'd done, and staring at myself in the mirror, I don't see a woman who hated it at all. No, in fact, I see a woman who'd loved every filthy minute of it.

  My cheeks are flushed, and there are red marks on my neck that look a lot like fingers. There’s no telling right now if they’ll remain red before fading or if they’ll bruise. A fucked-up part of me hopes they stick around because just staring at them makes my pussy clench at the reminder. Even when we fuck, we're violent. Insane. It doesn't disturb me. It turns me on. My legs are still shaking. My head's a fucking mess. Dean Carter is a monster, and I like it.

  What the hell am I doing? I ask myself.

  I don't get to answer, because before I can, something thumps hard against the door—a fist. Instead of Dean's voice, however, it's Braxton on the other side.

  "Hey, we're ready for you," he calls through the wood.

  I reach for the knob and yank the door open. My lips part, but whatever I'm about to say dies when I spot Luc Kincaid with a bloodied lip sitting on the bed between a standing Dean and Abel. He shifts and sniffs the air before looking down at the sheets.

  "Why the fuck is my bed wet?" he demands.

  Dean smirks. I roll my eyes.

  "Luc," I call, stepping into the room and catching his attention. When he sees me, he starts to get up, only to be shoved back down by Dean. If looks could kill, the one Luc shoots him would have left Dean bleeding out on the floor. It was time to get this shit over with. I step up in front of him and stare down at Luc until he faces me once more.

  "We need to talk," I state.

  He relaxes his shoulders and leans his head back. "Baby, if you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was call. You didn't need to bring a contingent of bodyguards."

  "Don't fucking call her that," Dean growls.

  I put a hand out, stopping him as he clenches his fist and steps up as if to hit him. "Dean." I push against his hard chest. "Not why we're here," I remind him when he glances my way. His jaw tightens, and he takes another second to send a glare Kincaid's way, but he steps back, and when I'm confident he won'
t try anything for the time being, I turn back to Luc Kincaid.

  “We have a problem, and we need to know if you're part of that problem."

  "If this is about Kate," he says. "You don't need to worry about it. I dumped her."

  "You what?" I frown. "When?"

  He eyes me. "Week ago or so. Heard what you did to her not long after." The corners of his mouth begin to twitch as he fights back a smile. He doesn’t fight it too hard before a moment later, it breaks free. "Fucked up shit." He nods in appreciation.

  "She had it coming.” I deadpan.

  He lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. "Yeah, I believe that," he replies. "Don't really care why you did it, but I don't have shit to do with her anymore."

  "Just like that?" Abel asks, stepping up alongside me. "You fuck Dean's ex, propose, and then dump her like that?"

  Luc lets his eyes roll. "For your info, my man, I didn't fucking propose to her—the whole thing was arranged by our families. Daddy dearest found out her parents were going bankrupt and ordered me to call it off."

  "And what about you coming to Eastpoint?" Dean's voice deepens as he props himself against the bookshelf and stares Luc down.

  "That's never going to happen," Luc replies sharply. "My dad thinks he can get the current heads to agree—says he's got info they want, something about a possible merger, but I don't have any control over that. Is that what this is about? You breaking into my fucking house?"

  "We didn't break in," I tell him absently as I think. "We walked right in." Even as I say the words, my mind is working over this new information. If he dumped Kate before Corina's party, then what the hell was she doing there acting like nothing had happened? She wouldn't be doing that unless she had a plan—but she definitely would have said something in the bathroom when I cornered her. Something's not adding up.

  "Enough of this," Dean snaps, shoving away from the bookshelf so hard that the thing teeters against the wall. He steps up to the bed, and Luc rises—the two of them face off. Chest to chest. Nose to nose. It'd almost be hot if it wasn't so annoying. "What the fuck are you and your old man planning?" Dean barks.

  "I'm not planning shit," Luc snaps. "You know as well as I do, the old men don't tell us shit."

  "I don't believe that for a fucking second. You went after Kate for a reason," Dean replies.

  "I didn't even want the bitch," Luc grits out. "She was whiny as hell and a cold fish in bed. I don't give a fuck what you think. She was just a high-class gold digger. When the old man told me I had the go ahead to boot her, I fucking did.”

  "Did you know about the picture?" I ask him.

  Luc turns my way, frowning. "What picture?"

  "Your girlfriend took a picture of you and Ava at your beach house and sent it to Dean," Abel snaps.

  "Not my girlfriend," Luc shoots back, sneering at Abel. "And I don't know shit about that."

  "I know how to determine if that's true or not," Braxton says, crossing his arms. I have no doubt that his methods will end in a lot of blood and a well-paid cleaning crew, but there's something about the way Luc had looked at me when I asked the question as if he couldn't quite understand it that makes me believe him. He really had no fucking clue about the picture until I asked.

  "No," I tell Brax. "No, there's something else—we're missing something." I step back and contemplate what we know already.

  Kate had staged the picture that had pissed Dean off and sent me running back to Plexton. Someone—not Kate—had then called Roger, who'd been waiting on my return. My mom hadn't been home, but there'd been blood. A bender, she must've been on a bender or something—whatever had led her to where Dean and I had found her in Larryville.

  I realize what we needed. "Fuck," I hiss, turning away from the guys. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

  "What is it?" Abel asks.

  "The only person who knows who called Roger is him, and he's fucking dead," I snap. "That's the only way to figure out who set this up."

  "Who set what up?" Luc looks between the four of us, frowning. "What the hell kinda shit are you talking about?"

  Braxton speaks up, ignoring Luc's questions. "No, when I questioned him, he couldn't say who'd called him. All he'd been able to say was that it'd been a woman."

  "Older or younger?" Dean demands, slicing a dark look Luc's way. One that doesn't go unnoticed.

  "You got something to say, motherfucker?" Luc asks. "Because if so, fucking man up and ask."

  "Sure, I'll ask," Dean agrees, stepping back up to him. "I'll ask which of your fingers you want me to break first before I start in on the real questions."

  Luc meets him. "Try it," he challenges. "You think you can take me, then fucking try it. You fucking come after me—I’m coming after you."

  "Hey!" I snap. "That's enough. Unwad your manties and get your shit together." I glare at Dean for a moment as the two of them stand, chest to chest, neither one backing down. Then, after a beat, Dean finally tips his head back and snorts out a curse before turning away.

  "Yeah, you better fucking look—" I step in front of Luc and deliver a soul-crushing punch to his gut so quickly he never sees it coming. His words cut off as he doubles over with a grunt.

  "You were fucking saying, asshole?"

  He wheezes out a breath and looks up at me with a grin. "It's too bad you're fucking him," Luc huffs. "’Cause you're just my type."

  "Crazy is your type?" Abel asks lightly.

  "Oh, yeah," Luc says with a nod. "Absolutely certifiable definitely gets me hot."

  I curl my upper lip back and take a step away from him. "Enough with your dumb games, Kincaid," I say. "We came here for information, and it's important that we get it."

  "Oh, yeah?" He straightens back up slowly, wincing as he rubs against his abs. I don't know why he's acting like such a fucking pussy about one single punch. My knuckles feel like they ran into a brick wall, but no one sees me acting all wounded and shit. I have to think it's a ploy of some kind. "What's it for?"

  "What's what for?" I frown, narrowing my eyes on him as he finishes rising back to his full height.

  "What do you want the information for?"

  That's easy. "Because, Luc Kincaid"—I slide up to him, feeling Dean's glare on my back as I reach out and touch the chest of his enemy—"someone fucked with the wrong bitch, and I intend to make sure they know it."

  Kincaid's ocean blue eyes collide with mine, and he loses the playboy smirk. His shoulders push back, and he abandons all pretense of being hurt. "What happened?" he demands.

  I shake my head. "You don't need to know."

  "Oh, but that's where you're wrong," he retorts. "If you're here, it's because I'm involved in some way. I think I deserve to know how." Before I can respond, however, his eyes dart to Dean's and harden. "Do you have a leak?"

  "No," Dean answers. I move away, looking between the two of them as I scrutinize their postures. There's obviously no love between the two of them, but unlike a few minutes before, they both appear to have set aside their normal animosity in favor of a more serious issue. "At least, we can't be sure. If Kate's really out, then I'm leaning towards no."

  "So, if there was, it would've been her?" Luc clarifies.

  "We're not sure," Abel states, pulling Luc's attention towards him. "And we're not too fucking worried about your in-house issues. We're more concerned with our own."

  Though Luc's main aggression is obviously towards Dean, it's clear he's not a huge fan of either Abel or Braxton. He glares at Abel for a moment, before huffing out a breath and running one of his wide palms through the dark sandy blond locks at the top of his head. "Fine," he snaps. "Ask your questions. I'll answer as honestly as I can, but then get the fuck out. Thanks to you, I now have to fire my housekeeper."

  "No, you don't," I say quickly. "She wasn't even here when we broke in."

  Luc shoots me a dull look as if he doesn't believe a word I say. "I'm not going to fucking kill her," he says. "But I need loyalty. I rely on it."

  "Ava," Dea
n's voice rumbles nearby as he strides back across the room and stops at my side. "Let it go, we'll take care of it."

  I open my mouth to tell him to shove his orders right up his ass, but Braxton interrupts me as he steps forward and holds up his cell. "Do you recognize this man?" he asks.

  I glance at the screen and am arrested by the image I see there. It's Roger Murphy—obviously taken in the craptastic old trailer I grew up in. His face is bloody and beaten to a pulp. Red drool drips from his lower lip and one eye is swollen completely shut.

  Luc doesn't even flinch at Roger's pulverized face. He just leans close and inspects the photo. "No," he says. "I don't recognize him. He doesn't work for me."

  "No, we didn't think he did," Dean says as Braxton takes the phone away and tucks it back into his pocket.

  "Then why'd you have me look?" Luc asks.

  "To see if you'd lie about it," Abel answers.

  "I didn't," he says, and then he blows out a breath. "Who the hell is he?"

  "A dead man," Dean says without missing a beat. "And no one you need to worry about."

  "Wait," I say, thinking back to something Luc had already let slip. "Your dad has information that Eastpoint wants?"

  Luc's eyes move back to me. "Yeah?"

  "Do you know what it is?" I ask impatiently.

  "No. I don't have any clue what it is." Luc frowns and reaches up with one hand to scratch the side of his jaw. "He's been secretive about it—thinks it can get me to move over to your territory, something about a merger or some shit."

  "There's no way Carter would let that happen," Abel says, his gaze swiping from Luc to Dean as if for confirmation.

  Luc replies anyway. "No, I told him as much, but he's not much of a fucking listener, as I'm sure you three can understand. The old men think they know every-fucking-thing. Whatever he thinks he has that's valuable enough to get me to join your ragtag crew, maybe it's got something to do with whatever happened to you." He ends with a gesture to me.

  That was it, then, I realized. We needed to know what that information was. I wasn't entirely sure, now, that the man who'd sent Roger after me was Nicholas Carter. Whoever it was, though, was close. They were a pillar in the inner circle of Eastpoint. We just needed to track down which pillar it was and tear them down.