by Alexx Andria
My cock pulsed as I finished and I could feel tiny spasms in her pussy, clenching at my cock, milking each drop from the shaft, drawing my essence deep inside.
And all I could do was breathe heavily, trying not to collapse on top of her.
If she realized the import of what’d happened, she wasn’t saying anything.
I’d cum inside her.
With no protection.
I might’ve just knocked her up.
And you know what, God forgive me but I didn’t care.
The caveman brain was still in control.
Even though my spent cock was softening, I couldn’t stop from thrusting against her a few more times, tiny, soft motions with my hips, trying to soak every illicit pleasure from this stolen moment.
She whimpered and I kissed her hard.
Charlie was all softness and feminine charm, yielding and giving at that moment.
I stirred, still half-inside her.
I could go again.
Already, I was hardening, my gun priming.
But we would freeze in this fucking weather.
We needed to get back to the motel.
And then I would fuck her again.
And again.
And again.
I already knew I was addicted.
One taste and that’s all it’d taken.
Whatever chance or hope I’d had to walk away from Charlie disappeared the moment I’d sank between her thighs.
We’d both known it at some level but we’d fought it tooth and nail because this wouldn’t make things easier — fuck no, it would complicate things worse than they already were.
Charlie was my woman.
I’d tear apart anyone who tried to say otherwise.
Charlie wasn’t the kind of woman you banged and forgot.
Charlie was a forever kind of woman.
A woman I didn’t deserve but I was taking anyway.
Fuck what I deserved.
She was mine.
End of story.
I dared anyone to question my claim.
Chapter 26
Davonte
Where the fuck was that fuck-tard McAvoy?
No one had seen him around town at the usual haunts.
He had a wad of my cash.
Irritation rode me like a whore.
Everything felt off.
There was an air of danger floating around, stinking the place up like a rotten turd left in the bowl.
Since I’d sent McAvoy off in search Charlie — Jesus, I was going to punish that little bitch so hard when I got her back — things had been sketchy around The Underground.
It was as if everyone sensed I was off my game.
As soon as McAvoy brought me Charlie, everything would go back to normal.
I’d fuck the shit out of her little pussy, maybe even put her in a dog collar and have her sit at my feet naked just so I could drive home the point that she belonged to me.
Then when I finally tired of her, I’d have her dropped in the river.
Little cunt had to learn that her only value was keeping me happy.
Or maybe I’ll stick to my original plan and marry her.
A brief smile curved my mouth as I savored the thought but it wasn’t to last long.
Chantel, the owner of Pussywillow, and one of my former women, walked into my office.
Older than most of my fuck toys, she still had fat ass hips made for gripping and an ass that didn’t quit.
I’d probably fuck her if she asked nicely.
Maybe if she begged on her knees I’d let her suck my cock.
Chantel was still paying her debt.
Couldn’t go too easy on those who tried to stab me in the back.
The only saving grace Chantel had was her club.
It made me a fair amount of cash each month.
And money always soothed my temper.
“Chantel…what’s happening, baby girl?” I asked, allowing my gaze to appreciate that banging body. “You come to bring me something nice?”
“I came to renegotiate,” she said, going straight to the point.
“Renegotiate? Baby girl, your terms are not up for re-fi just yet. You should know better,” I tsked. “But I’ll forgive you, if you’re real nice.” I gestured to my cock with a grin. “Remember how I like to be sucked?”
But she ignored my offer.
In fact, her dark eyes were hard as cement.
“You’re killing my business,” she said flatly. “And I can barely pay my rent. Forty percent is too much to sustain so unless you want to lose your safe haven for your deals, you’d better let up.”
“Oh baby,” I breathed, a warning in my tone. “Careful now, I care for you as one of my women but I have my limits. You know the terms of our deal. Frankly, I’d expect a little more gratitude.”
“You killed my boyfriend and then blackmailed me into giving you nearly half my business each month. What exactly am I supposed to be grateful for?”
I leaned forward, my gaze narrowing. “That I let you live.” I held her stare for a long moment before relaxing with a shrug. “I could’ve put a matching bullet in your lying mouth alongside Roberto’s.”
Chantel and Roberto had thought they had the chops to take me down. Their failed coup had cost them.
First, I made Roberto watch as I face-fucked his woman.
Second, I made Chantel watch as I put a bullet in her boyfriend’s head.
Lastly, as her man’s brains painted the back wall, I made Chantel a deal: you can earn back my forgiveness if you hand over forty percent of your profits each month and Pussywillow is my hub for sensitive transactions.
She took the deal.
The idea of breathing was a persuasive bargaining tool.
But now she wasn’t so willing to bend. What had changed?
“Chantel, why mess with a good thing? We have rebuilt our trust and we are friends. Don’t go trashing something that has value.”
“I can’t survive with the scraps you leave behind.”
“Ahhh, I see. Well, perhaps I could set you up with some more work, something that I would be happy to compensate you for.”
“I’m not a fucking whore.”
I laughed. “You’re a woman; of course you are.” A thought occurred to me. “Have you seen Damon McAvoy around in the last few days?”
Chantel’s eyes burned hot even though her tone remained cool. “No.”
“You’ll tell me if you do, correct?”
She jerked a short nod, looking as if the action cost her a piece of her soul but at least she was cooperating.
“Good. I appreciate the visit. Business good at the club?”
But Chantel wasn’t in a chatty mood.
Maybe Chantel had outworn her usefulness. I could get any number of people to run Pussywillow with less hassle.
Honestly, I swear my generous nature always seemed to make more trouble than it was worth.
“You should’ve renegotiated…friend.”
Chantel spun on her heel and walked out, leaving me to wonder what she thought she had up her sleeve.
I wasn’t worried.
Chantel was a stupid ho.
And there wasn’t no pussy out there that could outsmart me.
My gaze fell to my desk calendar to the circled date three days away.
My Charlie would be here soon.
Or else, everyone would fucking feel my wrath.
Starting with Chantel.
Chapter 27
Charlie
We barely made it back into the motel room before we were pulling our clothes off.
I’d never known such a fever that only skin on skin could relieve.
Damon hoisted me up, my legs locking around his torso so that my hot center rubbed against his belly.
His strong hands gripped my ass, squeezing possessively.
I thrilled at the way he made me feel cherished and wanted.
This giant man held me like I was pre
cious.
We tumbled to the bed, laughing as the springs protested under our weight. Damon flipped me to my belly, pulling my hips to him as he settled behind me.
I held my breath knowing he was going to fuck me this way.
I gasped as he pushed his length inside me. I was still dripping with his seed. There’d been nothing to clean up with afterward in the truck.
But I hadn’t minded.
Was it dirty that I liked the feel of his cum slicking my thighs, sliding down to soak my panties?
Maybe it was but I didn’t care.
And he had no reservations with plunging balls deep inside me again.
His guttural moan was like an instant aphrodisiac.
Seated to the hilt, he held me in place, allowing me squirm but not escape.
In this position, I felt every bit his woman.
Captured.
Dominated.
Taken.
God, I loved it.
There was a small, residual soreness from before but the sensation faded quickly enough as Damon began to thrust against me.
He was buried inside me, rubbing against an internal spot that made me cry out as the pleasure built.
My whole body shuddered with each push, my fingers curling around the thin, cheap bedspread as Damon grunted with pleasure behind me.
The scent of sex and sweat filled the air as Damon brutally owned my body with his cock. I was helpless to fight off the climax as it came for me.
I surrendered, tumbling into the abyss that beckoned with sweet, lying fingers.
I knew this wasn’t something that would last.
I knew that Damon wasn’t going to suddenly fall in love with me because we’d fucked.
But something felt real between us.
Even if neither of us could readily define what that something was.
Dimly through my own haze, I heard Damon cry out as his motions became wild. Warmth flooded my belly as I smiled against the bedspread, knowing he was cumming.
There was power in bringing a man such as Damon to his knees.
A power that I planned to wield often.
Damon collapsed beside me, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on the myriad of tattoos traveling his body.
He was magnificent. How had I never really noticed? I leaned over to sniff his shoulder, the action surprising me as much as him.
“Like what you smell?”
“I do,” I admitted with a small smile. “You smell good.”
Damon chuckled and the sound tickled my insides. He was ordinarily so stone-faced that seeing him smile momentarily took my breath away.
I propped my head on my hand and traced the dragon tattoo dominating his arm with my fingers. “What does this mean?”
“It means it seemed bad-ass and I was young.”
“Really? I thought tattoos were supposed to have meaning,” I said with a slight frown.
Damon relented with a chagrined twist of his lips and said, “I’m lying through my teeth. The dragon does mean something.”
“Yeah? What?”
“It’s symbolic for my mother. She loved dragons. Especially the Chinese dragons. When she died, I had it put on my arm so that I would always have her near me.”
I blinked back tears. “Oh, wow. That’s incredibly sweet,” I admitted, suffering a pang of loss for the young man he’d been, alone and adrift without his anchor.
“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to protect.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
It was meant to be something said in jest to lighten the moment but it felt charged with electricity.
I knew I would protect his secrets as I knew he would protect mine.
“You said your mom got sick…”
“Cancer.”
“But she died of heart failure?”
“Yeah. We didn’t have the money to fight the cancer. If the heart failure hadn’t taken her, the cancer would’ve eventually. I like to think that she went quick as a blessing.”
I moved to straddle him, regarding Damon with fascination. “How did I ever think you were just some dumb lump of muscle?”
“Should I be flattered or insulted?”
I wiggled on top of him, sliding my wet core along his semi-flaccid cock. “What do you think?”
“You’re going to kill me, woman,” he growled as he reached for me, drawing me close for a kiss. I smiled against his mouth as I felt his cock harden in spite of his protests.
I’d become insatiable in the space of hours.
But we were sticky with fluids and we were both starting to smell. I reluctantly climbed off Damon and pulled him with me. “Let’s shower and go to bed. Tomorrow is a big day and we need to be sharp.”
“And you think I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you when you’re naked, wet and slippery?”
I cast him a coy look. “I don’t know. This is all new to me. Are you saying that you’re going to want to fuck me against the shower wall? Or maybe go down on me first? Maybe you’re right…we should shower separately in the interest of staying focused.”
I was playing him, of course.
But the trouble with teasing a bear?
Sometimes they took the bait.
Suddenly, Damon tossed me over his shoulder, slapping my ass as he carried me to the dingy bathroom.
“You’re a dirty girl. Time to wash up.”
I laughed as he righted me but before I had time to come up with something witty, he was on his knees, seeking out my hot button without mercy. Shoved against the grimy wall, I cried out as I came so quickly, I nearly slid to the floor when my legs gave out.
Damon rose and kissed me thoroughly, his tongue dancing with mine, reminding me where it’d been only seconds before.
I shuddered with pure arousal, my breathing short and raspy.
All it took was a single look and Damon had me splayed against the bathroom wall, cheek pressed against the disgusting wallpaper, cock buried inside me.
Each thrust pretty much had me on my toes.
I closed my eyes, crying out as Damon’s cock mastered my G-spot until I soaked myself. Rivers of fluid slid down my legs and pooled on the floor.
I was too sated to be embarrassed.
Seconds later, Damon stiffened and came, too.
He pumped a few more times then withdrew, stumbling against the back wall to support himself.
I turned slowly to regard the man who’d turned my world upside down.
Bright spots of color stained his cheeks as he fought for breath.
His spent cock dripped with our combined juices.
I should’ve been repulsed.
There were so many things that should’ve sent me running.
But I couldn’t get enough.
Slight twinges of discomfort reminded me that I’d just been utterly fucked more times than most virgins on their first night and I knew we were both processing our fear that this was going to be it.
We could both die tomorrow.
Everything rested on Chantel and Terrance playing their parts.
We were just facilitators.
And meddlers.
Which meant we could find ourselves completely screwed if either party found out they were being manipulated.
Words weren’t necessary. We both felt the mood change.
I turned the water on and climbed in, Damon followed.
We showered quickly and climbed into the bed.
This time sex wasn’t on our minds.
Surviving the next twenty-four hours was more important.
But as Damon’s arm curled around me, I went willingly — grateful for his strength.
If I died tomorrow, at least I could say I went out on my own terms.
I chose my lover.
My virginity wasn’t taken from me by some fucking narcissistic kingpin.
And you know what?
That was enough to let me sleep like a baby.
Chapter 28
Chantel
“What’d he say?” Carlos asked anxiously as I returned from my meeting with Davonte.
“What do you think he said? He said, ‘suck my dick and be thankful you’re alive’,” I answered, stalking into my apartment and tossing my purse onto the counter.
Carlos was Roberto’s younger brother but he had no spine for bloody business.
I used to wonder how the two were even related but I’d since taken the fool under my wing so he didn’t get himself killed.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, Carlos,” I snapped, my head aching. Davonte was no one to trifle with. He had no conscience and he often did things simply because it amused him to watch people suffer.
I’d go so far as to say Davonte was a psychopath but I wasn’t a shrink so whatever.
Either way, he was a bastard.
And I’d been towing his line for way too long.
McAvoy had made a solid point.
But I didn’t want to pick a side unless I knew that side was winning.
I’d lost Roberto because Roberto had sworn to me that we’d had the upper hand.
So much for that plan.
Roberto had been dreamer.
I’d been stupid for thinking that Roberto had the ability to stage a coup of that magnitude.
I lit a cigarette to calm my nerves.
It’d been three years since Roberto had died.
Three years of Davonte forcing me to take it up the metaphoric ass as punishment.
God, I hated the prick.
I drew a deep drag and let the smoke burn my lungs. I liked the pain. It reminded me that I was alive.
I let it out and poured myself a drink.
“McAvoy thinks he’s got Terrance Johnson on his side. If that’s true…maybe it could work.”
“I’ve heard that Terrance is no picnic,” Carlos reminded me with a shudder. “You might be trading one horror show for another.”
“True enough but I’m so sick of Davonte that I could puke. Anything had to be better than what I’m going through right now.”
At least I hoped so.
Truth was, Carlos could be right. I could be jumping from the frying pan to the fire.
“What’s the word on the latest shipment from Dray?”I asked, stubbing out my cigarette. “Everything on schedule?”