Stolen Hood

by The Grim Sisters

  I’m pretty sure I’ve lost my mind, because I don’t stop myself when I impatiently remove his clothes from his body, tossing his shirt and jacket across the room. When I rid him of his belt and unbutton his slacks, they fall to the ground, exposing a more than impressive tent in his tight briefs. Sinking to his knees, he presses his mouth at my center and proceeds to devour me like a gourmet meal. His tongue licks and sucks as his fingers move roughly inside me. Nothing he does is gentle. I don’t expect it to be. He’s well practiced and his tongue is a work of wonders. His forefinger thrusts in and out of me, filling me deeper and deeper as he sucks my hardened nub. When his tongue pushes inside my tiny slit, I cry out a moan that sounds too much like his name.

  “So fucking wet and sweet,” he mumurs. “Cum on my mouth, my Red Robin.”

  His naughty possessive words and his fingers do me in until I’m creaming all over him. Like a cat, he licks his lips, cleaning me from his mouth. With a dangerous rumble and a feral glint in his eyes, he rises to his feet and grabs me roughly, lifting me in his arms. My legs wraps around him automatically, nudging his hard monster of a cock at my entrance.

  “I’m not a gentle man, Red. If you don’t stop this right now, I’m going to fuck you, use you, and brand you with my dick until the only coherent word you can form is my name,” he warns.

  I’m surprised I get the warning. He’s put the ball in my court. This is my chance to turn him down. But I don’t want to. I’m sick. I want him to use my body and hate fuck the living daylights out of me. Fill me with his sin and caress me with his darkness.

  “I’m not afraid,” I reply. The words barely leave my mouth when he grabs my hips hard enough to leave bruises behind and impales me hard on his dick.

  “Fuck,” I scream.

  It’s like a switch has been flipped and he pulls me off him and impales me again, enjoying the sound of my screams. With my body pressed against the window, he drills inside my cunt, fucking me with a wild abandonment. It’s so raw, so feral. Not a trace of light in sight. His silver eyes glow like a beast, and it’s so fucking beautiful. His dick sings an eerie melody, drawing out my own darkness and just like he threatened, I cum, screaming his name, but he’s not done with me yet.

  With me still held up in his arms, he brings us to the bed and throws me on it.

  “Get on your hands and knees,” he orders.

  Quickly, I do as he says, but not fast enough because his palm connects on my ass cheek. I feel the heat of his body as he positions himself behind me, and his large palm rubs the hurt away from his slap.

  “At first, I wanted you on your knees. I’ve been dying to see what your plump lips look like wrapped around my cock as I fuck your throat raw. Then use my cum to play connect the dots with the freckles on your face and chest, but we have time for that later. Don’t we, Robyn?” He goads and I’m too far gone to deny him, so like a crazy person, I nod anticipating what’s to come next. “You know once we do this, you’re mine. No more avoiding me, or ignoring our betrothal. I’m going to take you from behind until you forget every man you have ever been with.”

  With that said, he thrusts in, all the way to the hilt, and starts pounding into me just like he did at the window. He’s so fucking big and long and it’s like he has a road map to my g-spot because he hits it every fucking single time in a brusing assult, like my pussy owes him money and his dick has come to collect. Gripping my long hair and wrapping it in his fist, he pulls hard while he thrust inside me, and I cry out from the pain. Pain and pleasure. We’re traveling on a delicate balance, and he drives me like a pro.

  “When I saw you on that job in that tight cat suit you had on, I wanted to strip you naked and fuck you on the museum rooftop. Bend you over the edge while I owned your pussy for all to hear.”

  Fuck, his words. I clench around his dick, and he pulls my hair harder. Soon, I’m cumming again, creaming all over his cock, making his assault even slicker. I’ve cum three fucking times now and he has yet to cum once. What the fuck? Is he half machine? Pulling out again, he pushes my body into the mattress, and hovers his big body over mine. With his firm grip still in my hair, he pushes my face into the mattress at the same time he re-enters me. This is not making love. Nothing sweet will come from it. This is pure, unhindered reign to both of our darkest desires. I can feel him start to swell and I know he’s close, but he doesn’t slow his assault. If anything, he moves harder and faster. He turns my head to the side, and bites down hard on my neck, paying me back from when I bit his lip and I cum again, crying out this time. A couple more forceful thrusts and he finally explodes with a roar, filling me from deep inside. He cums for what feels like forever until I’m filled to the brim, and he starts to leak and overflow. Exhausted, his body falls in a heavy heap, and he wraps his arm around me, pulling me close. I’m too tired to question the action and not a second later, I fall into a deep sleep.

  When I wake, Richard is no longer in bed, but I can faintly hear the shower going. Sitting up, I stretch. My muscles are sore as fuck and I feel like a ran a marathon. Got fucked like one, to be more accurate. Lowering my arms, I look down and stare in shock at the thin rose gold chain holding the ring I wanted around my neck. Up close, I examine the design. I can see every detail and feel the heavy weight in my hand. I re-read the inscription and I’m lost as fuck wondering, why the fuck would he give this to me? Obviously Richard is the anonymous buyer. When I lift my eyes, he’s standing there, watching me in nothing but a towel tied low on his hips. I didn’t get the chance to appreciate him last night, but now in the light of day with the sun streaming through the windows, I’m in awe over the chiseled work of art in front of me. He’s a little broader than John with lean muscles. He too has an eight pack, and a delicious V leading to a happy trail of dark hair. I want to lick each and every ab, and run my hands slowly over his muscles.

  “Keep looking at me like that, Red, and you’ll be bent over the bed in seconds,” he growls.

  “Why?” I ask.

  He knows I’m not talking about him fucking me senseless.

  “I knew you wanted it, and I wanted to be the one to give it to you.”

  “Why? Last night you said you don’t do gentle. This is very gentle,sweet, and kind. And so not you. So why?”

  “I own you. You’re mine, Red. I might as well make you happy in the meantime,” he answers nonchalantly, like he didn’t just insinuate that I’m his property.

  I’m not actually surprised though. It’s not like the men around me are known for healthy relationship mindsets. Hell. I’m not one to fucking talk.

  “You can’t possibly think you’re going to keep holding my alter against me,” I huff, folding my arms in front of me. I try to ignore how all the little bruises and bites on my skin turn me the fuck on.

  “Your alter is what brought you here. It’s my dick that’ll keep you with me,” he retorts smugly with amusement I normally don't see dancing in those silver orbs.

  “Cocky much?”

  “Yes, a big one, but you and your tight pussy know all about that, don’t you?” His silver eyes darken as he moves toward me like a predator. “I own you. My dick owns you. You’re mine and I’m not letting you go, Red. I told you, you’re the rarest jewel of all, and I’m not a fool. I’ll never give you up.”

  I don’t answer. I can’t. I’m fucked. Truly and completely fucked.

  Chapter Nine

  Robyn

  I don’t start feeling any concern or anxiety about my clusterfuck of a situation until we’re driving back towards my place. The night is over, and in the light of the day, I have several things plaguing me. My brother and the location of that goddamn dagger. What the fuck to tell my family when Christmas rolls around Sheriff isn’t there? Oh Sheriff? No. He just went on vacation. Didn’t he tell you? Finally, what the fuck do I do about the man sitting next to me, or the men who, no doubt, I will see today? I can’t hide what happened and I don’t want to.

  The Ashton Martin is warmed by th
e heaters and I can feel Richard staring at me as we navigate through the city. I wrap my arms around myself tighter, the warmth of my jacket helping, as Richard finally let out a frustrated sound.

  “Red,” his voice is low and demanding.

  “Yes?” I raise a brow, trying to keep my emotions clear.

  “What happened between the hotel and now?” His dark brow furrows. Oh, you mean my sudden mood shift from: please fuck me into the bed again to oh shit, I have no idea what the fuck I am doing? Yeah. I know, big change. Sorry dude.

  I exhale and go with honestly. “I have been with John for nearly two years, not dating and honestly, I didn’t even realize how serious we’ve gotten. You know what? That’s not important. I just need to handle some shit, so if you can drop me off, that will be-”

  The bastard is crazy. He throws the car in park, in the middle of the street, as blaring horns goes off around us. Leaning across the center counsel, he grips my face gently. “Red? I’m well aware you’ve been seeing John. I don’t fucking like it, and I wish he wasn’t around, but when I said you’re mine, I fucking meant it. I’m not letting you go.”

  I swallow and nibble my lip as I contemplate his words. “But what if I don’t want to let him go either?”

  His eyes darken and he exhales, looking at the angry drivers passing. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  What?

  He starts driving then, and I stare at him considering maybe I’m stuck inside a moving vehicle with a lunatic. I feel my stomach sink as we pull into the private garage, and I realize that two very familiar cars are parked in my visitor places. Archie and John. Oh goodie. I loved confrontations.

  “Thanks for the ride-”

  Richard chuckles and gets out, opening my door for me, and then leads me towards the elevator. Oh no. This is somehow progressing even worse than I expected. It seems like the elevator ride towards our floor moves impossibly fast today, and as the doors open into the penthouse, my throat produces a low worried sound. I drop my bag and walk towards the kitchen where the two men I worried about seeing are sitting working on a laptop.

  What in the ever living Christ?

  “Morning,” I state quietly as both eyes snap up and Richard presses a hand to my back.

  “Sweetheart,” Archie starts softly.

  I met John’s eyes as a blank expression covers his perfect face. I see him look over every part of my exposed skin, including the massive fucking hickey on my stark pale skin, before something slightly unhinged peaks out and his eyes rest on Richard. My body moves forward before I have a moment to think about it, wanting to just comfort him, even if that’s so not me, but I don’t get that option. Richard’s corded forearm wraps around my stomach as John lets out a low sound. His calm is scaring the shit out of me right now.

  “Let her go,” John speaks softly, calmly even, like the eye before the storm. His jaw is so tight that I'm actually concerned he’ll break his teeth.

  “Never,” Richard lets out a small frustrated sound.

  I can feel the tension hyping up and I wiggle out of Richard’s hold. I stand between the two of them and speak quickly, “it is very clear that we need to talk, but if you can both calm down for like-”

  Archie’s voice rings out, and has me snapping my head to the right, the dominance in it making me feel a bunch of unhelpful things, “both of you other room now,” he orders. “Do not do this around her.”

  Do what?

  It doesn't matter because they both listen and the house is silent. Eerily silent. Archie’s dark eyes, fill with something besides the hint of hurt there, focus solely on me. When he speaks quietly, “I need you to go to your room, can you do that for me?”

  “I’m not fucking hiding while the two of them-”

  A loud crash has both of us moving, and my eyes pop open at the two men I’ve fucked beating the shit out of each other. Let me rephrase that, trying to beat the shit out of each other, but fuck, they’re equally matched. I let out a small sound as Richard’s fist lands right into John’s gut, clearly payback for the bloody nose he’s sporting. I snap out of the daze of actually witnessing this.

  “Guys!” I yell, trying to move forward as Archie pulls me back.

  “Didn’t take you as one to feel so fucking insecure,” Richard hiss as John slams him into the drywall, causing a hole to bust through. Oh fucking shit.

  John barks out a laugh and then a groan as Richard’s fist hit his nose. Sweet, both of them are going to have broken fucking noses. It’s both oddly beautiful and scary seeing them fight. It’s savage, yet well practiced. Their inner monsters on full fucking display for Archie and I.

  “Insecure?” John chuckles as they land into a glass coffee table and it shatters. I wince, and Archie mutters a curse. “No Rich. I’m not fucking insecure. Just remember you’ve had her one night, I’ve spent hundreds of fucking nights with her.”

  Fair.

  I shake my head as Richard pushes into him and blood begins to soak the carpet. I look to Archie as he lets out a frustrated sigh and places me against the wall.

  “Yet she still ended up with me,” Richard hiss as John grows more furious.

  Then Archie is there, yanking Rich off John, as the glass from the table soaks the carpet with their blood. John is laying there looking furious and worse for wear, and Richard looks like he’s about to lose it. Archie pleads, “please Robyn.”

  I meet his gaze and I nod. Trusting him. Plus, I have no idea what to think about what just fucking happened.

  Chapter Ten

  Archie

  Fucking morons.

  We have ten times more important things to focus on, yet the hacking expedition John has embarked on is now long forgotten. I let out a sound of annoyance as both men glare at each other from across the shattered room.

  “You’re fucking idiots,” I hiss out, “both of you.”

  I’m an idiot as well, but not because I’m fighting over someone who has enough fucking love for both of them, even if she doesn’t know it, but because I can’t even tell the same woman that I am, and have been insane over her for years.

  “This wouldn’t be a fucking problem if he got the fuck out of here,” John spats, spitting the blood from his mouth.

  Richard chuckles and offers him a sneer, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re an idiot for thinking so.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I growl, and both of them snap their heads towards me. “She clearly wants both of you or else you wouldn’t fucking be here.”

  It’s true, Robyn doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want. It’s the only thing that keeps my hopes up because she invited me over way more than either of them. I grunt at that thought. I have no qualms with sharing her attention, but I just want fucking some of it.

  “I don’t have time for you two acting like children, and neither does she,” I voice quietly, “her brother is gone. Completely fucking missing. Both of you have seem to forgotten about that because, as usual, you are only thinking about your-fucking-selves. Richard, I don’t even know what the fuck to say to you. If you think blackmailing her into a charity gala because you can’t ask her out like a normal fucking person is the best way to go, than that’s something you need to work out. And not with her. John, I’m going to kick you out of this fucking house if you make her feel guilty about any of this. In fact, if neither of you plan to be helpful, you should just get the fuck out now.”

  Honestly, I haven’t sworn that much, or talked that much in a long time. Both men stare at me with a mixture of guilt and residual anger.

  “What the fuck is happening with her brother?” Richard questions, brushing glass off himself.

  I look to John and speak, “think the two of you can get along for the five minutes it’s going to take me to make sure Robyn is okay? That is, if Richard plans to help. We can actually use his connections in this most likely.”

  “Fine,” John shakes his head, and I turn on my heel hoping the two fuckers will handle this like adults. With a
head shake, I make my way up the stairs to where I know she’ll be. Not to disappoint, Robyn is there, leaning against her massive bedroom window while looking out over the snowy city landscape. Her hair looks like a fiery vision against the gray skies, and when she turns to look at me, I feel my heart hurt. It isn’t often that Robyn looks vulnerable, but right now she seems tired and worried.

  “Archie,” she mumbles, trying to school her features.

  Instead of talking, I wrap my arms around her, and place a hand at the back of her neck so that she’s tucked against me. I breathe in her soft scent and she’s tense only for a moment before she completely melts against me, her eyes fluttering shut. It makes me way too fucking happy she’s able to relax around me.

  “I feel like I’m fucking this all up,” she admits, her body tightening with tension.

  I lift her easily and carry her to the bed, so she can lie down and curl up against my chest. Sometimes when the two of us would watch movies, only when her brother isn’t around, she’d lay just like this. It never seemed like we were doing anything wrong per say, but I’ve never directly told Sheriff how I feel about his little sister.

  “You aren’t fucking anything up ,” I tell her softly against her hair.

  She pulls back and fixes me with a look. “Archie, I slept with two guys in twenty-four hours. Two guys who literally broke my coffee table fighting.”

  I hold back a smirk because I can tell she wants a bigger reaction from me. Her blunt nature was something I first liked about her. Along with a fuck ton of other things. I try to not think about her fucking though. I’ve long given up trying to stop the fantasies that played out involving her being tied up to my bed. Or being fucked bent over that damn kitchen counter we always work at. Or against the glass wall of her bedroom. Honestly, I really just want to fuck her.