The Disciples: A Dark Romance Collection

by Sweet, Izzy

  Once he finally bottoms out, I arch my back, pushing my ass into him to take him in even deeper.

  “Fuck,” he gasps, and I’m wrapped so tightly around him I can feel his cock twitch.

  Feeling a deep, visceral kind of satisfaction, I do it again.

  “Stop that,” he grunts and delivers a sharp smack to my ass.

  The pain is so sharp, so surprising, I immediately clamp down on him.

  “Fucking hell, you’re trying to kill me,” he groans and reaches under me, his fingers finding my clit.

  Expertly working the little bundle of nerves, he quickly brings me back to the brink of my orgasm, then swiftly sends me soaring over the edge.

  I cry out, stars exploding behind my eyes as the walls of my pussy convulse and spasm around him.

  “That’s better,” he grunts with satisfaction, using my gush of wetness to ease the friction.

  Pulling back, I still grip him, but I’m too slick to hold him in.

  He begins to fuck me slowly at first, easing me open with deep, lingering strokes as if he’s truly afraid he might hurt me.

  And I enjoy it, savoring every deep stroke of his thick shaft gliding across my g-spot.

  But once I come again, trembling and screaming his name, he stops holding back.

  He grabs me roughly by the hips, pulls my ass up and begins to fuck me hard and fast.

  “Whose pussy is this?” he asks, his thighs driving hard into my ass.

  “Yours,” I grunt, too far gone to think twice about it.

  “That’s fucking right,” he declares with satisfaction. And then I feel something probing against my other hole.

  “And who’s ass is this?”

  I may be nearly delirious from the pleasure but I’m still aware enough to be a little freaked out as his finger begins to push into me there.

  I groan and shake my head, flexing my cheeks and trying to fight against the burning invasion.

  “Whose ass is this, Amy?” Andrew hisses and thrusts his finger in.

  Hoping my declaration will cause him to pull the finger out, I whimper, “Yours.”

  He’s not satisfied with my answer though.

  “Whose?” he grunts, withdrawing his finger only to thrust it back in.

  “Yours!” I cry out louder, my ass tightening around his finger. The burning is starting to fade away but I’m still too freaked out to relax.

  “That’s right,” he purrs, finally sounding satisfied and pulling his finger out. “And I’m going to fuck this ass one day… I’m going to mark all of your tight little holes with my dick.”

  He grabs me by the hair and uses it to arch my head back. “But not today,” he breathes into my ear. “Today I’m going to fuck you so hard I’m going to brand this pussy with my cock.”

  His finger gone, I finally start to relax. But then he wraps my hair around his fist and jerks my head back.

  His hips slam into my ass and his skin slaps against my skin.

  “And if you forget who you belong to tomorrow, I’ll fuck you until you remember.”

  He begins to fuck me fast and furious.

  “I’ll fuck you every fucking day until you remember who you belong to.”

  My body driven forward by the force of his thrusts, I clutch at the bed, only his grip on my hair keeping from topping over.

  “I’ll fuck you so much you’ll be drowning in my cum.”

  Inside me, I can feel him swelling and growing even larger, and just knowing that he’s about to come makes me come again.

  I cry out, dropping into warm oblivion, and somehow, someway, he begins to fuck me harder. Faster.

  Until he lets out a hair-raising roar.

  His warmth begins to fill me then he suddenly pulls out.

  I cry out just as spurts of warmth hit my back, then my buttocks.

  Slumping forward, I twitch with the last twinges of my orgasm until he presses the head of his cock against the entrance of my ass.

  Tensing up again, I whimper as he eases in just enough to fill me there too. Grunting and growling until he’s spent.

  Slowly he pulls out, and I swear I can feel him wiping his cock off on my cheeks. But then I fall forward, no longer able to hold myself up.

  Catching my breath, I stare at the sheet, trying to figure out just what the fuck happened, and feeling just a little bit violated.

  Then Andrew comes down beside me and tips my chin up to look at him.

  He grins a slow, very satisfied grin. “You have so much of my cum on you, any man who gets within ten feet of you will be able to smell it.”

  14

  Andrew

  When I was growing up, I never stepped out of line. I never brought attention to myself unless I had done something worthy of it.

  In my father’s eyes, barely anything was worthy of giving me attention unless it was the back of his hand.

  The day I graduated high school was the last day I lived in his house. I was supposed to be a man at that point, and it was deemed I could take care of myself.

  Thankfully, I shipped out that week to the military.

  There I followed the same rules. I didn’t step out of line. I only drew attention to myself through the merit of my actions.

  When I joined the Teams, I found a home for the first time. Did I love the Teams? Undoubtedly, but I knew time was fleeting. The lifespan of a Navy Seal isn’t in the tens of years, and having my hip torn up by a piece of shrapnel proved that to me.

  Getting out of the military and into the life I have now bewilders me. One day I’m fighting terrorists, and the next I’m protecting the life of the devil himself.

  Money, and lots of it, that was the start of me working for him. Then came the danger… it still calls to me from time to time.

  I think mostly though it was about finding a home. A fucked up home, to be sure.

  Lucifer would be the father, with his bitchy wife Simon. The rest of us miscreants are his fucked up little killers.

  That’s why when Bartholomew betrayed us, I took responsibility for taking his life. He didn’t just betray a boss, he betrayed his brothers. I don’t see his face in the darkness like I do the others when I sleep at night.

  My real parents were cold people, their affections were saved for each other. Not for the brat they brought into the world out of some sense of familial duty. They continued the bloodline, nothing else in their eyes.

  I don’t know what true love and affection is, I guess. I don’t think what I have felt for other women was anywhere near love or care.

  Amy and Abigail? I couldn’t do without either one of them in my life. I want them here with me. Amy is mine in the most basic sense of the word. Abigail? It’s more difficult to describe. I feel a real affection for her. I want the best in the world for her, so to me that means love… I think.

  Amy produces a different kind of feeling in me. I feel it in my chest. It tells me to claim her, to make her mine in every possible way.

  To fucking mark her and own her.

  “Ready Alpha One and Two, Alpha Three and Five in position,” a voice warbles in my ear.

  “Go for Alpha One, waiting on Alpha Four,” I murmur back.

  We’ve been sitting here in the cold rain for almost two hours waiting for false dawn to start.

  “Position Four ready and on high in position,” James says through the mic. He’s up on a ridgeline with the heavy sniper rifle.

  We aren’t taking any chances today. This is a shoot to kill job. We’ll take prisoners if possible but we don’t want to risk a single person escaping.

  Checking my cellphone, I send a quick text to Johnathan. “Ready to go. Start time 4:53a.m.”

  Johnathan quickly responds, “Set to go. 4:53a.m.”

  We’re positioned at two different houses. His is north of the city while mine is to the west of it.

  They spread the two hit teams out pretty well, and that’s what makes me so damn anxious. I don’t like having to do two simultaneous hits at once
. But we don’t get a choice in this shit. We can’t take only one, and we can’t hit the second one after we hit the first. Too much could go wrong that way.

  Checking my watch, I mark it at 4:51 a.m. “Two minutes.”

  Each man quickly responds back as we watch the time count down to a minute before. “Infiltrate. We hit at the 3 mark.”

  Rushing forward, I keep my barrel up and my finger on the trigger.

  My first target is the man leaning against a post with a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips. In these early hours of the morning he’s half asleep and his night vision is shit from the glowing ember.

  Five feet from him, I quietly drop my rifle to its sling and pull the combat knife from my vest. The last few feet are the last moments of his life as I rush to him, slamming the blade into the side of his throat.

  A spurt of blood shoots out as I pull the blade from him, hitting me in the chest and face.

  Fuck.

  Crouching down next to the body, I quietly say, “First position taken. Any issues?”

  “Negative. We’re still a go, no detection noticeable at this time.”

  Moving to the corner of the house, I motion to the man who leans up against the brick wall next to the front door. “Get ready to break through the door. Toss a frag grenade in.”

  Heading back the way I came, I make my way around to the side of the house.

  Crouching beneath the bedroom window, I slowly rise up to take a quick peek inside. I see two men sleeping on twin mattresses in a shabby looking room.

  “Toss grenades, ten seconds. Enter the front door, sixteen seconds,” I murmur into the throat mic.

  No whispering shit, whispers carry further than a good murmur.

  Two seconds before the toss time, I bust out a portion of the window. The time’s up when I drop the grenade through the window. It lands between the alarmed men.

  The stunning boom rocks the home as multiple points of the house are breached. Looking back into the room, I see everything is splattered with red, even the black mark of the explosive.

  “Alpha One, room clear. Returning to front.”

  More clears are called as I make my way around. The man at the front of the house has the front door blown wide open and he waits for me to enter first.

  Sweeping to the right, I enter the house with one man at my back. We enter the living room where a body is lying prone with blood pooled around the throat. The missing head is my only indication that James has been at work with that sniper rifle of his.

  “Living room clear.”

  “Kitchen clear.”

  We quickly sweep the rest of the home before taking the stairs.

  I’m in lead as I shout up loudly to anyone up there, “We’re coming up! Drop all your weapons and you will not be killed!”

  There’s some scuffling so I murmur to James, “Got a shot on anyone?”

  “Switching to thermal,” he quietly responds.

  Waiting on James, I hear loud shouting and stomping around on the second floor of the house. From the sounds of it they’re pissed and want to keep fighting. I wanted to take prisoners if possible, but there’s never a good way to tell if someone’s too stupid to give up.

  “Three warm bodies,” James comes back through my earpiece.

  “Take ‘em out if possible.”

  “Got it.”

  I hear a shattering of glass and a loud thump as a body falls to the floor. Five seconds later there’s another thump.

  Not long after I see a man charging down the stairs with his hands up in the air. He carries no weapon and screams, “Good guy! Good Guy!”

  I take a step and stick a foot out to trip him down the rest of the stairs.

  “All clear,” James comes through the earpiece.

  The rest of the men are quick to report the all clear sign.

  Just like that, the violence is over and we now have a live body to attend to.

  Fuck, this just means paperwork.

  * * *

  We’re packed up and ready to go. We’ve cleared the house of any intel we could find by taking every phone and laptop.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. Lifting it, I press connect. “Job finished, one coming back for questioning.”

  “Good. Johnathan was able to secure a live one as well. Harrold or his men will be out to clean location soon. Have a couple men stay behind while you bring in the guy,” Simon says.

  “Got it.”

  Pointing to James and Marcus, I say, “You two keep watch till Harrold or his men show up.”

  They nod their heads at me and I head back to the large black Excursion. Climbing in on the driver’s side, I shut the door.

  Fuck me. I’m wet, cold, and tired as fuck. I still got more work to do though, and I feel like I’m back with the Seals right now.

  The only thing that makes it all better is the thought of Amy at home waiting for me to crawl back in bed with her. That and the thought of warming back up by filling her with my cock.

  The asshole taped and gagged in the back seat makes a groaning sound. Fuck, night’s not over yet.

  Driving to the warehouse from here isn’t a quick trip. It’s pretty much on the opposite side of the city. By the time I reach the building, I’m still wet but hot from the heaters blowing.

  I’m only torturing myself though because outside the car the morning is still wet and cold.

  Shit.

  Stepping out of the car, the cold rain dumps down on my back as I drag the piece of shit from the back. He squirms and tries to fight me but a good punch to the gut knocks some of the fight out of him.

  Picking him back up from the puddles in the broken-up parking lot, I slap his face roughly. “Keep it together, asshole.”

  Thankfully, he doesn’t put up much more of a fight until he sees Lucifer standing in the back room of the building.

  There’s an empty chair bolted to the floor waiting for my bag of shit.

  Dumping him on the chair, I chain his ankles to the steel legs and his arms behind his back.

  The man is blubbering now. He’s so wet I can’t tell if he’s pissed himself but it sure as fuck smells like it.

  Standing up from my work, I unstrap my tactical vest. Hanging it on an old sheet-metal cutting machine, I turn to Simon and Lucifer.

  “Good job this morning, Andrew,” Lucifer says.

  He approaches me as I remove my holster.

  “Thanks. Pretty easy in and out job.” Pointing to the man screaming in the chair, I say, “He’s the only one that surrendered.”

  “Did you have a chance to question him?” he asks me.

  I shake my head. “No, I pulled us out as soon as I got the call from Simon. I didn’t want to leave any trace of who took these guys out.”

  Extracting my black gloves from my pocket, I start pulling them on.

  Lucifer quirks an eyebrow at me.

  “My knuckle still gives me issues; these padded puppies help a bit. They also have a hard-outer shell for hitting people with.”

  Stepping over to the bound man, I look to Simon. “Anything we need specifically, or is this just a general session to get anything we can?”

  “Get the full plans of what was supposed to go down tomorrow. Anything else is a bonus at this time.”

  Nodding my head, I rip the tape off the guy’s mouth.

  “Talk now,” I say to him, “Tell me about the hit on the school tomorrow. This can go on for hours or it can be over quickly. Your choice.”

  A mouth full of blood and spittle hits my face before I even have a chance to put a hand on him.

  Guess that’s my cue to start the painful process.

  * * *

  There’s not a dry bone in my body by the time I make it into the kitchen. My boots make squishing sounds with each step I take.

  Amy and Abigail are sitting there at the kitchen table getting ready to start in on cereal and toast.

  When they look up at me though I feel like last night was only a
dream.

  Abigail beams a smile at me.

  Amy looks up at me through her long, thick eyelashes and asks, “Are you okay?”

  She doesn’t ask it like she would have a couple days ago. No, this time there’s tenderness in her voice.

  “Yeah, let me get cleaned up. You guys in the mood for a big, hot breakfast?”

  Abigail looks from me to her mom. Dropping her spoon into her barely-touched bowl of cereal, she asks, “May I have French toast?”

  “You sure can, princess. Just let me get showered and dry.”

  Giggling, Abigail says, “You look like you were in the shower already.”

  “I bet I do.”

  Heading out of the kitchen, I keep my hands partially hidden. Even with the gloves on they’re bruised with spots of blood.

  Grabbing a garbage bag from the utility room, I move up to our bedroom. My shirt under my black jacket isn’t wet with only water. Towards the end of the questioning things got a little… bloody.

  I don’t think either of my girls need to know about that part of my job.

  Stripping away the wet layers of clothing, I dump each one into the garbage bag. Everything goes in. My jacket, my black cargo pants, and even my boots.

  Nothing from tonight will stay with me. Not the clothes and not the blood.

  Naked, I step into the shower.

  The stinging hot water washes all the blood and grime down the drain, leaving no trace of the violence I inflicted.

  15

  Amy

  Andrew left us alone all night. No guard to watch over us. No one to stop us. I could have left. I probably should have left.

  But something held me back.

  I want to tell myself I was too afraid to walk out the door because of Ivan. He was released yesterday and I know he’s out there, somewhere. Waiting.

  But it wasn’t only Ivan. Something else is holding me here. Something that sits heavy in my chest. Something that continues to grow, like a cancer.

  Instead of leaving or plotting an escape, I stayed up most of the night wondering where Andrew was.