His Little Red: A Possessive Dark Romance (Mayhem Ever After Book 1)

by Vivi Paige

  No, my inner voice shouted, this isn’t you, Scarlett! Put a stop to it! Don’t let this monster—

  “I want you to fuck me,” I repeated, enjoying the way the words rolled off my tongue. Grinning, I choked out my inner voice and sat my instincts behind the steering wheel. Not that it mattered who was driving. I was like a ship without a rudder, my fate in the hands of the ocean.

  “I’m going to do more than just fuck you.” He stared up at me with the devil’s smile. The lines on his face had deepened, almost as if the lust swirling inside me had made him even wilder than he already was, and my heart tightened as I accepted just how attracted to him I was. He made me angry, afraid… but he also made me as wet as I had ever been.

  With his hands on my hips, he kept me in place as his mouth wandered farther south, his lips now trailing toward my stomach.

  “What are you—?”

  “Stay still,” he growled, his deep voice and commanding tone enough for me to do as I was told. I just threw my weight against the wall behind me, my lungs struggling to gather air, and let his mouth roam over my naked skin. He opened his hands, his fingers slowly stretching over my hips, and then slid them over to my ass. Digging his fingertips into my flesh, he kissed my inner thighs, the smooth way in which he did it leaving me crazed with lust.

  “Lift your leg,” he commanded as he dropped to one knee, and my body reacted before my mind could register his words. I did as I was told, and he helped me rest the back of my knee over his shoulder. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes focused on the aching wetness between my legs, and that’s when he leaned forward.

  I chomped my bottom lip as he traced the contour of my inner lips with his tongue, over and over again, and my eyes rolled as I tried to process all that was happening. Slowly, and not sure if I was allowed to, I laid both hands on his head, gently threading my fingers into his hair. He said nothing.

  “You should’ve told me you were this delicious,” he whispered, the way the air moved past his lips as he spoke making my skin prickle. Perhaps sensing my anticipation, he flicked his tongue up and twirled it around my clit. I shut my eyes, ecstasy coursing through my veins like a drug, and gasped as he finally wrapped his lips around my tiny bud.

  Suddenly, he opened his mouth wide and pressed it against my aching pussy, his tongue furiously whipping at my clit. I went from gasping to moaning, and from that to screaming, my voice taking flight and filling the entire room. I felt my vocal cords vibrating like the strings of a violin, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if I heard every window on this place shatter. That, of course, didn’t happen.

  Instead my legs trembled, my heart beating a thousand miles per hour, and my brain felt as if it had melted in my skull. I’m pretty sure had anyone asked me for my name then and there, that I wouldn’t have been able to answer the question. The only thing I knew was that my body was electrified with desire, and every nerve ending inside me turned and bloomed like a sunflower.

  “That feels so…”

  I gasped as he brushed two fingers against my entrance, his fingertips caressing my folds. Slowly, he eased them in, curling them upward as if they were a hook. Then he drove them all the way into me, only stopping when he had them pressed against that hidden trigger inside. It only took a couple of seconds for fireworks to go off behind my shut eyelids.

  My thoughts scattered like birds taking flight, and I took a breath so deep that I felt my lungs pushing against my ribcage. Balling my hands into fists, I yanked on his hair and pushed his mouth against my drenched pussy while, at the same time, I thrust against him.

  I came, and I came hard.

  My muscles tensed, becoming heavy as concrete, and I let out a quivering moan. Pleasure turned into sound, electric ecstasy crackling under my skin, and my knees buckled under my weight. Moving fast, he laced one hand around my waist, keeping me upright. When he pulled back from me, I forced my eyes open and looked down to meet his dark gaze. His chin glistened from my juices, the sight of it making my heart do a somersault inside my chest, and that’s when I realized just how desperate I was for his touch.

  “More,” I told him, my voice brimming with that desperation. “I want more.”

  “Do you?” he threw back at me, but what he really wanted to say was, “Of course you want more.” And he was right. Every gesture I made, every breath I took… all made it painfully obvious just how much I wanted him. “You try to play the role of a good girl, but in truth…” Standing up, he brushed two fingers—the same fingers he had just had inside me—against my cheek. “You’re a dirty girl. You want to be fucked, and you want to be fucked hard.”

  “Yes…” I replied, forcing myself to acknowledge that savagery that lay hidden inside my soul. It felt as if I’d broken the chains of decency and decorum, and I loved every second. Oh, I wasn’t exactly a prude, and I had had my share of hot and sweaty flings. This, though, was something else entirely. To be with him made me feel free, as if there were no limitations to what I could do. “I want to be fucked hard… by you.”

  “You’re in luck,” he whispered, taking my hand and placing it right between his legs. I turned my wrist, and slowly, I wrapped my fingers around his hard shape. My breath caught in my throat as, once more, I felt his thickness. I knew some men were well-endowed, but that was just ridiculous. “Right now, I want nothing more than to make you scream, Scarlett.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” Tightening my fingers around his cock, I stroked him over the fabric of his pants, my pace rapid and furious. Using my free hand, I pulled his shirt over his head and then ran my fingers over his wall of abs, feeling every groove and ridge of his muscles. His body was perfection made flesh, almost as if God himself had grabbed a chisel and decided to carve him into existence, just so he could have the perfect example of how a man should look.

  His muscles were pure slabs of power and functionality, every inch of his skin brimming with raw savagery. In this modern age, most men with muscles tended to look like gym rats, their proportions a result of notebooks of carefully planned workouts and hours of counting carbs, but my Wolf… I know it seemed silly, but it felt like he had never set foot inside a gym. He had the kind of body that made it easy to believe he had earned by chopping wood and hunting wild animals with his bare hands.

  It was the body of a predator. And I was his prey.

  Gritting my teeth, my heart ramming itself against its cage, I unbuckled his belt and pulled it free from its loops. After the whooshing sound of the leather slipping free, he kicked off his boots. As he threw his pants to the side, I couldn’t stop myself from looking down, the hard shape tenting his boxer briefs looking more like a sledgehammer than a cock. Jesus fucking Christ, how could he be this big? Was he even going to fit inside me?

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered into my ear, almost as if he had opened a window into my mind and was peering inside it. “I’m going to be gentle. Or, well, I’ll try. No promises.”

  Running his hands down the side of my body, his touch letting me know I was his, he slammed me back against the wall. Then, with one quick movement, he pulled me up and into him. I reacted on instinct, lacing my legs around his waist and throwing my arms over his shoulders as he rested his body against mine.

  With my breasts mashed to his chest, my hard nipples feeling like sharp razors, I threw my head back and readied myself for what was to come. I felt the tip of his hard cock against my inner lips, and I knew that he was just a thrust away from—

  “Holy fuck,” I cried out, thunder and lightning exploding inside me as he thrust. His long inches slid inside me fast, his massive cock stretching me wide on the way in. For a moment, it almost felt like he was going to split me in half. His promises of gentleness seemed to have been thrown out of the window and thank God. A man with a cock like this should never have to be gentle.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, a devilish smile on his lips. Placing one hand on the nape of my neck, he threaded his fi
ngers into my hair and held my head up, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. “I can tell you’ve never been with a real man.”

  With that, he slid his cock out until only his tip was inside of me, and then he slammed it back in. I moaned and, Jesus, I did it so hard that it felt like my vocal cords were going to snap.

  Pistoning into me, his movements charged with furious lust, he drove me up into new heights. I soared over my own consciousness, my nerve endings burning from the inside out, and I surrendered my whole body to him. No, not just my body—even my soul had kneeled down in front of him, begging him to own it.

  “I think I’m going to—”

  I didn’t finish my sentence.

  His thrusts silenced me, and the muscles in my neck felt like a vise around my throat. Perhaps feeling it, he took one hand to my neck and wrapped his fingers around it, choking me in the most delicious of ways. It made me feel as if I was being stripped of my own free will and, against all odds and common sense, I couldn’t stop myself from loving every second of it.

  “Come,” he whispered into my ear, the gentleness in his voice contrasting with the viciousness of his movements. Thrusting even harder than before, his movements threatening to ruin my pussy for all other men, he led me straight to the edge. One quick push and I tumbled down from pleasure’s cliff and, for a moment, it felt as if the universe was folding into itself.

  Blinding light exploded on the edges of my vision and my thoughts turned into ash as a tidal wave of pleasure crashed against me. Hard spasms took over my inner walls, and they became as tight as a vise, choking his hard cock; still, he didn’t let that stop him. Instead, he just doubled up on the viciousness of his thrusts, his cock like a battering ram. I screamed until I no longer knew if I was still doing it, or if what I was hearing was just the echo of my own voice.

  “So fucking good,” he growled, and with one final thrust, he finally stopped all movement. His shoulders rounded up, his muscles bulging under the skin. For a moment, he was made of marble. Even his cock became as hard as a slab of concrete. When it throbbed, it felt like an earthquake happening inside me, and my mind spun as he spilled his seed inside me.

  We didn’t move for a long time.

  We just remained locked in that embrace, basking in the glory of what we had just done. Breathing hard, I felt like the dirtiest girl that had ever walked the earth, one capable of stepping over the limits of what was reasonable and acceptable. I mean, sex with my own kidnapper?

  It was crazy, and I absolutely loved it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Warm, soft light filtered through the boards over the bedroom window, turning the view of my eyelids from black to red. Stubbornly, I rolled over, away from the sun, nestling myself into the blankets more fully. My hand reached out to caress the equally warm and soft body on the bed next to me…

  And patted about, finding nothing. Nothing but furrowed, rumpled sheets. My eyes snapped open at the same time as my heartrate jumped up a thousand percent in tempo.

  Scarlett was gone. After our wild, passionate screw last night, I’d forgotten to re-attach her ankle chain.

  No, I thought bitterly as I threw the covers off my naked form and leaped to my feet. No, I hadn’t forgotten. I had chosen not to do so, despite the fact that it was clearly not a good idea.

  What in the hell had I been thinking? I was supposed to be a professional, yet I fell for the oldest trick in the book and let myself be seduced by a target. This was Hollywood bullshit, not real life.

  And unlike a Hollywood movie, when a client fucked a guy, they also fucked a guy over. How far did she get? Was she at the police precinct right now? Did I need to burn out of here in a hurry?

  As I headed out into the hall, too frantic to dress myself, I started considering my options. I wasn’t lying to her when I said I had a rock-solid alibi backed up by cell data. My cousins were up there now, carrying a dupe phone around to make sure I was covered.

  But still… Devlin and the others would never forgive me. They might even decide that in order to protect the firm’s reputation they would have to see that I took a vacation—the permanent kind.

  Halfway down the stairs to the relatively uncluttered first floor, the smell hit my nostrils. Burning. Something was burning.

  Scarlett, you little… Did you set the fucking house on fire? Such were my thoughts as I reached the first floor.

  But then I heard the faucet running, and my anger turned to confusion. Who in the hell was in the kitchen?

  I popped around the corner, my eyes staring daggers until they settled upon Scarlett’s freckled, shapely back, exposed because the only thing she wore was my apron. She cursed as she poured batter into a hot skillet, sending up a cloud of smoke and increasing the burned smell. Something charred and unrecognizable lay on the plate next to her.

  “What are you doing?” My voice came out a bit harshly because I wasn’t over my scare. Scarlett jumped and dropped the spatula on the floor before turning around to face me.

  “You scared the shit out of me, Wolf,” she smiled.

  “Are you trying to make pancakes?” I looked at the box of mix and bottle of syrup sitting on the floating island.

  “Yeah, emphasis on trying,” she laughed. Scarlett gestured helplessly to the mess she’d made. She filled out the apron damn well, that was for certain. Her creamy bosom enticed my gaze, the pinkness of her areolas sticking out, and she’d belted the waist tightly enough to accentuate her generous curves. Her red tresses had been pinned back by a scrunchie to form a ponytail, leaving the back of her neck bare and displaying the hickeys I’d left there last night.

  “Get that pan off the hot burner.” I called out before retreating and grabbing some clothes from my nearby duffel. Clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, I returned to the kitchen and opened a drawer, selecting a fresh pan. “Did you put any oil on the pan?”

  “No…” Scarlett said sheepishly. “I put a pat of butter.”

  “Butter burns at a low temperature, much lower than you need to cook pancakes. Use coconut oil instead.”

  She stood aside while I took over the process of preparing our breakfast. My mind still raced with questions. Why didn’t she leave when she had the chance? Was this all some sort of game to her?

  My thoughts turned ever more elaborate and paranoid. Perhaps, I thought, Scarlett already left and called the authorities, and returned just to keep me here in place until they arrived?

  No, I thought, that made no sense. Why risk herself coming back here if she was safe? But if this wasn’t some sort of trick, what the hell was she up to?

  I refused to entertain, even for a second, the idea that Scarlett had remained out of some sort of burgeoning feelings for me on a personal level. I tried to force these thoughts away and concentrate on making the food. Scarlett hovered right by my side, her body heat and scent driving me wild.

  “Did you even read the recipe?” I sniffed the messy bowl of batter sitting on the counter. It seemed oddly flat and lifeless for pancake batter.

  “Uh, I thought it was just add water.” She gestured at the bowl.

  “I see. Unfortunately, this isn’t instant mix. One needs to add in oil and eggs in addition to the water.”

  “You have to add oil and eggs? Then what’s the point of the mix?”

  I paused with the fridge door standing wide open, considering her query. Wait, what was the point of the mix? Baking powder. That’s all I could come up with at the time. “I guess… we don’t have to measure baking powder,” I shrugged.

  She laughed, which made her chest dance in most alluring ways. Then she trotted over to me and stood, hands clasped behind her back, eyes glittering up at me.

  “What?” I demanded, one hand on the carton of eggs, the other bearing milk.

  Suddenly she got up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the lips. A full, intense kiss, plenty of tongue probing, which I returned in kind. Suddenly I wasn’t so worried about my paranoia…

  She broke aw
ay and then slapped me on the chest playfully. “Get to work, bitch. I’m hungry.”

  I gaped at her in astonishment, and then we both burst into laughter. We measured out the mix, and then added in a greasy dollop of coconut oil and two eggs. While she beat the mix together, I checked the temperature of the skillet. Dead solid perfect.

  “Do you like them silver dollar style?” I asked as she handed me the bowl.

  “Hmmm, no, I like big, fluffy pancakes.”

  “Big and fluffy it is,” I turned back to pour the mix onto the sizzling skillet. Scarlett came up behind me and encircled my naked waist with her arms.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, stiffening up.

  “Nothing… yet,” she said playfully. Her hand dropped down and fondled my cock. “Now I’m doing something.”

  “You’re going to make me burn the food.” My objection was weak and I made no move to stop her.

  “Oh, I guess I’d better let you go then.” She released her grip and backed up several feet. I turned a baleful eye on her, and she laughed and then stuck out her tongue. “Don’t mess up my pancakes, bitch.”

  “I’ll show you who’s the bitch,” I growled back.

  “Oooh,” she said, her mouth forming an O, eyes glittering with delight. “Promise?”

  I arched an eyebrow at her and she tilted her head slightly, as if awaiting a response. At length, she spoke again.

  “Your pancakes are burning,” she offered.

  Cursing, I spun about and quickly scraped the flapjack off the skillet. When I flipped it over, it was a little dark but not burned, fortunately.

  Soon we had a tall stack of buttermilk pancakes, a shit ton more carbs than I usually ingested in one sitting, but this was an extraordinary situation. I took a moment to appreciate the utter absurdity of cooking pancakes—naked—in the kitchen of a safe house with the same woman I abducted a day earlier. Who wore only an apron. With whom I’d had the most mind-blowing, awesome sex in my entire life the night before.