by Kim Jones
Leaving her to sleep, I find the bathroom down the hall. My reflection tells me Maddie isn’t the only one not getting very much sleep. I was still suffering from the thirty minute intervals of rest I got when I spent three weeks in the hospital—I don’t have my days and nights figured out.
At the reminder, another layer of guilt is laid on my soul. If I had been smarter, paid more attention or trusted my gut, I wouldn’t have been laying in ditch while the women in my club were suffering. The ten-minute jump I had on the rest of the club could’ve prevented Maddie from being taken. Instead, I was pinned under my bike completely helpless, while they suffered.
I force the thoughts out of my head as I stand under the steaming water. Knowing Maddie is safe and only feet from me helps to ease the pressure on my chest. By the time I step out of the shower, I’ve stored the memory away and am back in the present.
I throw on some sweats, grab the blanket from the back of the couch and lay it over a still sleeping Maddie. Not wanting to wake her, I don’t risk carrying her to bed. Instead, I leave her and search the house for a guest room to crash in.
There isn’t one.
Logan’s bed is shaped like a fire truck and way too small for me. I consider sleeping on the floor, but Maddie’s bed looks pretty damn comfortable and I don’t think she’d mind me using it. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll wake up and join me.
“Dumbass,” I mutter, stretching out on the bed that smells too much like her. She’s in my head. Both of them. My mind is consumed by her. My cock goes rock hard at the reminder of what she looked like tonight.
How my hands on her felt.
The way she leaned into me when we were dancing.
That laugh.
Smile.
Those eyes.
Fuck I want her. I want to taste her. Touch her. Show her how good I can make her feel. I’m thankful she’s on the other end of the house. Far enough away so I can’t see her. But her scent is everywhere, and it’s not making my attempt at ignoring her any easier.
I close my eyes and try to force myself to sleep. I start to count sheep, and surprisingly, it works. My body starts to relax. My breathing deepens. And thoughts of sheep start to drift to other thoughts as my mind unwinds. But then I feel eyes on me. The air in the room has shifted and I know she’s here.
Cracking one eye open, I look up and there she is. Standing right next to the bed. The dark shadows in the room don’t let me get a clear view of her face, but I can see her mouth. Those lips that begged to be kissed. When her thighs tighten, my vision becomes cloudy—overtaken with lust and desire.
“Fuck it,” I growl, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her down on top of me. I immediately flip us so she’s beneath me, and I don’t give her time to catch her breath. I don’t give myself time to change my mind either. I just kiss her.
Her lips are soft and warm—just like I expected them to be. She opens her mouth to me and I claim it—lazily stroking her tongue with mine. She tastes like honey. Her body feels so small under mine—vulnerable, but eager. Almost desperate. She moans in my mouth as her nails find my shoulders and dig. When she twists her hips to rub against my thigh, I nearly lose it.
“We’re going to hell for this,” I say, my voice thick and low as I pull her shorts down her legs.
“This is hell,” she breathes, parting her knees and opening herself to me. “And I want to fuck the devil.”
Motherfucker.
For a fleeting moment, guilt settles in my chest at the reminder that I am a Devil—a Devil’s Renegade who knows how wrong this is. But when the heat of her pussy burns my face like a fucking inferno, the guilt subsides. I promised to take care of her. All of her. And that includes her pussy that is soaking wet with need. Want. Desire.
For me.
I slide my hands beneath her ass and lift her to my face—dragging my tongue up the length of her pussy. Her hands fist in the sheets as she lets out a long, low moan that has me growling against the tender flesh. The vibrations of my voice send pleasure spiking through her, and her thighs tighten around my head in an attempt to pull me closer.
I don’t want to tease her or draw this out. I want her coming. Now. On my face, so she can taste herself when I kiss her while I drive my cock deep inside the wet, walls of her pussy. So I find the tiny, swollen clit that holds the promise of her pleasure. And mine.
My tongue works circles over the small nub as I suck it hard in my mouth.
She fights to pull away from me—the feeling intense and almost too much. She begs me for something, but doesn’t know what. Moments later she stills, then explodes around me. I soften the strokes of my tongue as she jerks and convulses around my face. The sweet essence of her release coats the back of my throat. When her legs fall limply from my shoulders, I move up her body and kiss her hard—letting her taste herself on my lips.
With my mouth still on hers, I fumble with the shit on the night stand until I find my wallet. Sitting up on my knees, I retrieve a condom and fist my cock in my hand—my clothes now on the floor with hers.
“Tell me how you want me to fuck you, Maddie,” I demand, keeping my eyes on hers as I sheath my dick. She’s still breathless and reeling, trying to focus on my words. “Tell me, babe,” I say, my voice lower. I rub my hands up and down her legs, trying to pull her back from that state of euphoria she still seems to be in.
“I just want it. Please…”
She’s begging. I like it. I’m ready to give her what she asks for. So I line the head of my cock at the slick entrance of her still pulsing pussy. “Fuck…” I hiss. She’s tight. Really tight. I’m afraid I’m hurting her, but she widens her legs and lifts her hips in invitation. I push further, ignoring the urge to come even though my body demands it.
“So good … so fucking good …,” she murmurs. “Just like this. Fuck me just like this.” She likes the slow, long strokes, so that’s what I give her. I bury myself completely, pull almost all the way out then push back in. The pace is slow and measured. Long and hard. I can keep my shit together this way, and prolong the feeling for her. I will fuck her for hours, just like this if she’ll let me.
“Talk to me.”
My lip curls at her sweet demand. This girl is kinky. I like that too.
“You like feeling this cock in that sweet, little pussy?” Her answer is a soft mewl. I thrust hard inside her. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes!”
I shove into her roughly. “Yes what?” It takes her a moment, but she finally finds the breath to answer me.
“I like feeling your cock inside me.”
“Good girl,” I praise.
Her eyes open—locking on mine. They’re wide with shock. Her cheeks pink with embarrassment. But her pussy squeezes hard around me.
“You like it when I tell you you’ve been a good girl?” She stares at me open mouthed. But nods.
The innocence on her face is too much. This girl is a sex vixen and doesn’t even know it. I’m her protector—her guardian. I promised to take care of her. I am. And there is something deliciously kinky about telling her when she’s done something that makes me proud. And there’s something even kinkier about her vulnerability that makes her naturally submissive.
“Get on your knees, Maddie.” I expect her to instantly submit to my demand, but she surprises me when she shakes her head. I cock an eyebrow at her. “Somebody wants to see what happens when they’re a bad girl.”
Her cheeks darken, but she doesn’t deny it.
Gripping her hips, I flip her on her stomach. She gasps when I pull her to her knees and fist my hand in her hair—pulling until her back meets my chest. Her head is slightly bent and I kiss the soft skin on the side of her neck tenderly—my actions going from one extreme to the next. By the heavy beat of her pulse, I know she’s enjoying every bit of it.
“When you defy me, Maddie,” I say, kissing a trail up the side of her neck to her ear. “I’ll just take what I want.”
She
whimpers—pushing her ass against me. Begging me for more. I push inside her tight walls once again—sinking deep before stopping. She’s filled with my cock. Her body trembles in excitement and a little bit of nervousness as she waits for my next move. I stay inside her as I lower her face to the mattress. Leaning over her back, I press my lips against her ear.
“Do you promise to stay just like this while I fuck you?”
She nods, her hips rocking back against me on every word.
“Good girl,” I whisper, then I straighten, pull out and slam hard inside her. She screams as I fuck her rough—savagely claiming her body. Taking my pleasure and giving her an equal amount in return.
My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her ass, gripping handfuls and spreading her open so I can see everything. She’s pink, wet, hot and her sweet scent is everywhere. The humiliation of exposing her like this along with the dirty talk and stiff cock that’s pumping in and out of her, has her coming hard around me.
Slowing my strokes, I wait for her to come down from the high before pulling out and flipping her to her back. Her heavy lids have me smirking. “Wake up, babe.” I lift her around me, lining my cock up and sinking inside her. “We’re just getting started.”
I move my lips up her throat as she throws her head back on a moan. Her nails dig into my shoulders when I swivel my hips—teasing her until she’s bucking against me. My hands tighten at her waist, stilling her, forcing her to take only what I want her to have.
“I want to hear you beg,” I say, my mouth trailing down to her tight nipple. Taking my time, I massage it with my tongue—nipping it with my teeth when she refuses to give me what I want.
“Please…”
“You’re gonna have to do better than that, Maddie.” Jerking my hips, I give her a taste of what she can have. If the stubborn, infuriating girl will just ask for it. “You want me to fuck you against the wall? Give it to you hard?” I thrust again.
“I want your mouth on me,” she pants. Her eyes are screwed shut. She refuses to look at me.
“You want it here?” I kiss her neck, and she whimpers.
“Lower.”
I move back to her breasts—my tongue lazily drawing circles around her nipple. “Here?”
“You know where.” I smile against her. The only thing keeping me from exploding inside her is that look on her face. Whatever hell she’s been through, doesn’t matter in this moment. All she’s thinking about is me—my mouth, cock, lips, tongue, hands…. Knowing I have the power to replace all the bad shit in her life, sets me on fucking fire.
I carry her from the bed and push her against the wall—repositioning my arms until they’re beneath her thighs. Then she’s sliding up the wall, her pussy level with my face, her legs over my shoulders. Her fingers fist in my hair, pulling to the point of pain when I bury my tongue inside her.
I’m like a starved beast feeding off of her. Her taste is addicting. Her moans a melody. Her reactions make me feel like a god. My cock hangs heavy and swollen between my legs. Throbbing to be inside her. But I wait—wanting to taste her sweet release on my tongue again. When she comes, she doesn’t even have the strength to tighten her thighs around my face. Her moans become whimpers from the intensity of her pleasure.
“Too much, babe?” I ask, letting her body slide down mine. She nods. Then shakes her head—unsure of what she wants. But I have a point to prove—even if it’s just to myself.
On shaky legs, I lead her the few feet to the bathroom. I think she believes we’re fixing to shower. She’s wrong. I spin her to face the mirror, pressing her body into the counter. She finds me looming big behind her. I look murderous. She looks delicious and thoroughly fucked with her flushed cheeks and hooded gaze.
Fisting her hair in my hand, I kick her feet apart then line my cock up with the trembling lips of her pussy. “I’m gonna show you how good bathroom sex should be.” Her eyes widen then flutter closed when I sink myself inside her.
I don’t take my time. I’m not gentle or slow. I fuck her hard and raw—just like I would if we were in a barroom. Her cries grow louder and I muffle her screams with my hand, giving her the full experience of what sex in public with me would be like. And she’s fucking loving it.
The moment her pussy pulses with her orgasm fourth orgasm of the night, I’m coming too—slamming into her one last time before stilling.
She’s limp and lifeless when I pull out of her. Her eyes are closed and either I’ve fucked her to death, or she’s sleeping standing up. I’m gonna go with the latter. I toss the condom in the trash then carry her back to the bed—having only one thought as I pull her in my arms.
I fucked up.
I gave into my weakness. I’ve put everything on the line—for this girl. A part of me wants to undo what I did, but now that I’ve had her, I know that I can’t. And as I stroke my hand possessively over her body, I know that I won’t.
I won’t stop.
I squeeze her ass and feel her up, drinking her up with my eyes.
And as I do, I know with every breath I take, with every ounce of my bones, even knowing there’ll be hell to pay for deceiving my own club, my own brother, I’m not staying away from this girl.
I am her Devil.
And I’m going to make us burn.
CHAPTER ONE
Six Months Later
Maddie
If growing up in an MC taught me anything, it’s this: never give your heart to a man who wears a patch. Since I was a young girl, the words were instilled in me. Even the men warned me. But I didn’t listen. Instead, I let my heart manipulate me once again. And tonight I find myself alone in a restaurant bar, waiting on the love of my life—ignoring that nagging in my head that says, “he’s not coming.”
“You sure you don’t want to order?” I look up at the bartender whose eyes are filled with pity. “The kitchen will be closing soon.”
I force a smile and shake my head. “He’ll be here. Ten more minutes?”
The bartender seems to be struggling with whether or not he should give me a therapy session, as most bartenders do. Something on my face must tell him I’m not in the mood, because he just nods and says, “Ten minutes.”
My phone vibrates in my lap. I close my eyes, pray for good news and click on the message.
Marty: Sorry, babe. Something came up with the club. Rain check?
I type out a quick response, assuring him it’s okay.
It’s not.
This is the third time this week he’s cancelled. You’d think after a year of prospecting, and over three months of hiding our relationship, he’d be ready to spend some time with me rather than the club—especially now that we’re openly dating and everyone is aware of it. But it seems like ever since we became official, I’ve taken a back seat to everything else in his life. Coming second is a shitty feeling.
The bartender gives me a vodka martini, on the house, when Marty’s ten minutes are up. He even allows me to drink after hours while they clean up for the night. So that’s exactly what I do. I drink—ignoring everything around me and drowning all my sorrows in vodka until I reach that “fuck it” point I’ve been searching for. It’s in these moments of being in a drunken stupor that I don’t care what Marty does with his life—and I make a plan to leave his sorry ass and find another. And I do all this knowing that tonight I’ll cry myself to sleep. Then I’ll let him come in, wake me up, make love to me and ask for forgiveness—which I’ll give. Just like I always do.
I stumble out into the nearly empty parking lot. When I picture how angry everyone will be when they find out I drove home drunk, I laugh. It’s just like them to worry over me. Poor Maddie. Let’s take care of Maddie. She needs us. But I won’t need them then. I need them now. I need Marty to show up when he says he will. I need Luke to be that big brother he’s always been—not the love-struck pussy who’s probably balls deep in my sister right now.
“You need a ride home?” I look over my shoulder to find the bartender h
ot on my heels—yet another man who wants to protect me. At least this one showed up.
“I’m good,” I slur, turning my attention back to where I’m walking. The motion dizzies me, and I pause until the world stops spinning.
“I bet you are.” The low growl is predatory. The hands around my waist are possessive. My back against my car is cold. And the bartender isn’t here because he’s concerned. He’s here because he’s looking for an easy lay.
“Stop.” The demand isn’t as loud as I wanted it to be. It’s more of a mumble. I push at his hands and his hungry mouth on my neck, but my attempts are feeble. “Please stop.” As my vision starts slipping, I feel the fear and desperation crashing through me. Fear that he might have drugged me. And desperate to be wrong.
His hands are in my jeans now. He’s groaning against my ear—spitting dirty explicit lines that I refuse to process. Instead, I block out the sound of his voice and close my eyes—trying to figure out how I got here.
I’m vulnerable. Weak. Too dependent on others to protect me. But so far, it hasn’t done me any good. My family is the most powerful MC in the state. Yet tragedy continues to find me. And even though they may not have always been there to save me, they were always there to pick up the pieces. I’ve never been given the opportunity to handle things on my own.
I’ve been spoiled by the MC—shielded by my brothers. Every time something bad happens in my life, I’m coddled. Nurtured. Surrounded by an army of men. Assured by my sisters. And while I spend weeks after every incident curled in a ball and crying myself to sleep, the club is “handling” my problems.
Maybe if I hadn’t been so sheltered, I could’ve stopped tonight before it ever got started. But once again, my weakness is someone else’s gain. Tonight, that someone is the bartender. As he presses hard against me, letting me feel his sick erection, I find the strength to whisper my own string of explicit lines in his ear.