Whiskey Rebellion

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Whiskey Rebellion Page 3

by Toni Aleo


  Pushing her thighs up with my knees, I press my hard-on into her soft center, and I’m rewarded with one lusty moan. Tearing my mouth from hers, I pull her shirt up and over her head, but when I go to take her breast in my mouth, I’m stunned in place at the perfectly positioned tattoo that sits right between her breasts. Holding myself up with my arm, I run my other hand along the armored helmet design. It’s almost like an old Viking helmet, and it has a green flourish coming out of it which runs along the bottom of her breast.

  I want to compliment her, tell her it’s amazing, but then she is arching toward me and words fail me. Taking her nipple in my mouth, I mold her other breast as I inhale her scent. She smells so soft, like she is slathered in some expensive, sexy lotion. As I lick along her breast, she moans my name, or better yet, her little nickname for me. Soon, I’m shaking for her. Which is something that never happens to me.

  Trailing kisses down her tattoo, I dip my tongue into her belly button as I undo her jeans, my knees hitting the carpet of her bedroom. Running kisses and nibbles along her hip bone and stomach, I pull her pants down, her thong sliding down her milky white skin before I see she is bare and glistening for me.

  “You’re a dream,” I whisper, and when I look up at her, she’s watching me, her eyes so dark and wild. I don’t know how this is happening. She’s way out of my league. So outta my fucking league, but I don’t care. Kissing the spot right above her pussy, I trail my fingers along her thighs, molding them with my fingers before I slide my tongue along her lips. Her breath comes out in spurts as she grips the blanket. Closing my eyes, I run my tongue along the slit where her lips meet, tasting her as my cock cries in my jeans. I want to take it out, whack off as I eat her, but then, I want to be inside her too. When my tongue dips into her, she arches off the bed, crying out as I open her, licking her from her clit to her entrance. She is vocal, and soon her body is breaking out in gooseflesh, splotchy with color as I continue my torture. What she doesn’t know is that I’m the one who’s really being tortured.

  I push her legs apart so she’s open to me, and I dig in, fucking her with my tongue before sucking away her wetness and finding her clit once more. She makes me feel like I have ADHD; I can’t focus, I just want to taste her everywhere. Taking her clit into my mouth, I nibble, her cries coursing down my spine before I slide my fingers inside of her. She’s tight—fuck, she’s tight—as I fuck her roughly, sucking her clit hard and fast.

  And when she comes, I’ve never heard anything like it.

  Well, maybe in a porno, I did, but this is real life.

  Or maybe it is a fantasy.

  My last London hurrah.

  Her pussy is dripping and so fucking hot, I’m not ready to be done with it. I want her to feel more, so I smack her pussy, not hard but enough to make her cry out, prolonging her orgasm.

  “Bloody hell,” she gasps, holding her breasts as I rise to my feet. “You smacked me puss!”

  I smile down at her as I tear off my shirt before toeing out of my boots. “I sure did.”

  “That was feckin’ hot, yeah?”

  It sure as fuck was. I go to push my jeans off, but she’s moving, up on her knees, her hands covering mine. “This is my job, yeah?”

  Licking my lips, her orgasm all over them, I nod slowly. “Yeah, I think it is.”

  Her eyes drink me in as she trails kisses down my chest, tracing her tongue over my dips and running it along my cuts. This body wasn’t made in a gym, like I’m sure she assumes, but then, she doesn’t really care.

  She just wants me.

  Which is fucking hot.

  Pushing my jeans down, she kisses the bare skin she exposes, and when my pants fall to my ankles, she looks up at me. “Yer packing a lot here, Jacks.” Biting my lip, I suck in a deep breath as she runs her fingers along my engorged cock. “Where ya wanna put it first?”

  I can’t answer her. I’m pretty sure she’s offering everything to me, and that alone has me about to come. I’m speechless as she trails her lips along the base of me, cupping my balls. “My mouth, yeah?”

  Still unable to answer her, I’m met with giggles before she takes me in her mouth ever so slowly. As I watch myself disappear between her lips, I’m stunned when she basically swallows me. I’m not one to say I have a huge cock, but it sure isn’t small, and this slight woman is making me feel like I am. Sucking me, she squeezes my base before making a popping noise when she comes off my head. My toes curl into the carpet as she does it over and over again.

  All I can do is think of dead kittens so I don’t blow my ever-loving load in her beautiful, sinful mouth too soon.

  When she comes off me again, she goes for more, but I stop her. “I think I want to be in you when I come.”

  She beams up at me. “I like the sound of that.” As she lies back, her eyes drinking me in, she says, “The condoms are in the drawer.”

  She points to the nightstand beside her bed, opening it with her toes to reveal a Costco quantity of condoms.

  At least she’s safe…

  Reaching for one, I slide it down my cock, watching as she opens up for me on the bed. She’s laid out like it’s nothing to be the most gorgeous woman in the world, and I swallow hard.

  I don’t want this to end.

  I go to cover her, but she somehow maneuvers me on to the bottom, almost like this isn’t her first rodeo. Getting on top of me, she moves her pussy along my length, her lips capturing mine as my hands take her thick globes in my hands. Her ass is the only squishy thing on her, and I swear we’re setting the room on fire. Groaning out against her lips, I close my eyes as she guides me inside of her. Curling my toes as she moves down my cock, I’m now the one crying out.

  If I thought she was tight before, I was insane.

  This girl is a fucking dream.

  Am I about to wake up?

  And is it pathetic that I just pinched myself to be sure?

  As she rides me, her ass smacking into my thighs, my body is aflame. Every single inch. Digging her nails into my chest, she rides me hard and fast, her ass jiggling against me and causing me to go deeper and deeper with each rock of her hips. Unable to take it anymore, I grab ahold of her, pressing my mouth to hers before rolling us over. When I pull back, she’s grinning.

  “Sneaky, sneaky. I wanted to ride that big ole cock of yers.”

  “And I want to pound into this sweet pussy,” I groan as I take her by the backs of her thighs, pushing them back as I push deeper into her. Pulling out slowly, I can’t help but watch as I slide back inside her sweet center. I know I said I wanted to pound into her, but I can’t. She’s too pretty. Her pussy is too sweet.

  “Harder.” Her words rattle me, her gaze meeting mine. “As hard as ya can, love.”

  Holy. Fuck.

  Who is this girl?

  How did I not see this coming?

  Looking down at her, I’m stunned. A woman who begs for me to take her hard and fast? It’s a dream come true.

  And I’m not going to hold back.

  Did I make a good choice here?

  Nope, not even kinda, but damn it, I needed to feel something.

  I wanted to forget.

  I hadn’t planned to go back with him. I didn’t even think I would, but something about his eyes did me in. I had to have him, and boy, did Jackson deliver.

  His sweet face is a bit confused by my request, but thankfully, it doesn’t take him long to do what I want. Lord, he’s huge! Big, broad shoulders, a thick trunk, and legs that could carry the weight of a mountain. He’s built like a bull, and as he slams into me, I feel like I’m being hit by one. My cries mingle with his moans and the sounds of my ass hitting his thighs. My body is tightening once more. I’m almost there, I feel it coming, and when it does, I cry out. Unable to feel anything, not the pain that has been overcoming me, not the guilt of not seeing my nephew, not even that I know my family is livid with me. None of it. All I feel is his huge cock slamming into me as I squeeze him ever so tightly.


  When he stills, a guttural yell coming from his plump lips, I can’t help but stare at him. He’s absolutely stunning. Thick, brownish-blond hair, deep brown eyes that are currently closed but I know to be beautiful. They remind me of the brown of Belle’s mane. I know it’s insane to be thinking of a horse when I look into his eyes, but I do. He’s got a strong jaw covered with a light brown stubble with just a little above his lip. Like he had shaved only a few days ago but couldn’t be bothered to fool with it this morning. But as I watch him, I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a man look so gorgeous as he comes. Usually, they make divvy faces, but there is nothing divvy about Jackson.

  Nothing at all.

  He’s splendid.

  Falling to the side of me, he gasps for breath as I do the same, moving my barely dry hair out of my face. My body is humming, and I ache beautifully between my legs. I want more. So much more. After moving my hands down my face, I reach my arms above my head before I glance over at him. His eyes are still closed, his chest rising just as fast as mine is. I am so glad I will forever be able to hold on to this memory. I want to be embarrassed for coming on to him like I did and for taking him to bed, but I’m not. I had to have him. I had never felt that way before, such undeniable need for someone, but I refuse to be embarrassed by it. I felt so lonely earlier, but that is no longer the case.

  When he opens his eyes, I watch as he looks around before he closes them once more, inhaling deeply. He is so damn hot. But when he holds up his hand, my brows draw together. “God, that was good.” He’s still holding his hand up, and I’m confused, especially when he opens his eyes and looks over at me. “Gonna leave me hanging?”

  “Ya want a high five?”

  “Yeah,” he says, and I roll my eyes, but I slap his hand. While that’s odd, it’s still sorta cute, I guess.

  “Yer a weirdo, ya know. After sex, wanting a high five.”

  He shrugs, his gaze meeting mine. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want the money first. But I thought it might make it less awkward if we high-fived first. I don’t know, I’ve never done this.”

  Everything stops, as if cold water has just been tossed on me.

  Surely, I heard him wrong.

  My brows pull together. “Done what?”

  “This,” he says, moving those naughty and satisfying fingers between us. “Paid for sex.”

  “What?”

  He eyes me. “What?”

  My body begins to shake, but not from the amazing rockin’ we just had, from pure anger instead. “Are ya fucking mad? What? Ya think I’m a feckin’ scrubber?”

  He looks at me confused before he asks, “Is a scrubber a hooker?”

  It’s like he’s feckin’ hit me! “Póg mo thóin!” I roar as I kick him in his thigh, pushing him out of my bed.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I’m gonna kick yer arse! I am no fucking scrubber, ya wanker!”

  Scrambling to his feet, he holds his hands out. “How was I supposed to know that? You came on so strong!”

  “A lass can’t want sex without being a hoor? That’s bullshite!”

  “You’re too pretty to just want sex! That’s why I thought you were a hooker.”

  “Ah, but ya didn’t turn me down. Ya wanted me too! So are ya the hoor too?”

  “I’m not turning down someone who looks like you, for one. And for two, you basically jumped my bones. Usually, I have to chase the girl—”

  “Oh! An hour ago, ya liked that I knew what I wanted, but now I’m a hoor!” Getting out of the bed, I pick up his clothes, throwing them at him. He catches them with ease, his eyes as wild as mine.

  “Can I just say I really love the way you say whore?”

  This fucker. “Ah, fuck with ya! I can’t believe ya.”

  He shrugs, holding his hands out. “You wanted me, bad, and I’ve never had that. Plus, you wanted my cock in any hole.”

  “So? Because I love sex, I’m paid for it? I don’t need yer money. Or any wanker’s money. I’m fine, and I’m no hoor!”

  Holding his clothes so they cover his cock, he pauses. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, seriously, ya feckin’ arse!” I scream. “Get the fuck out!”

  “But, look at this place! It looks like something out of a porno.”

  “It’s a penthouse, ya feckin’ tosser! I live here.”

  “You live here?”

  “Yes! But ya don’t know that, ya don’t know anything, so how dare ya judge me?”

  “You didn’t want me to get to know you!”

  “Yer right! I wanted to fuck ya, but now I’m done. Get the fuck out!” I scream, pushing him out of the room.

  “So, wait, that was free, right?”

  I scream in frustration. “Ya feckin’ bag of cocks, off with ya!”

  “Wait, I didn’t mean to offend you. I didn’t know. Maybe we should get back to it.”

  My eyes widen. “I’d rather take it in the nose than ever be with you!”

  I’m pushing him toward the elevator, but he stops in his tracks.

  “Take what to the nose?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Get out!”

  “Let me get dressed!”

  “Fine!” I yell, storming toward my room. I’m steaming mad, my body shaking, but when I go to slam the doors, I pause. Maybe I’m a wee bit of a masochist, but I just want one last look at the tosser. He accused me of being a hoor, yet I can’t help but think he’s the best lay I’ve ever had. Shaking my head, I fight back the tears as I call to him, “Thanks for nothing.”

  He shrugs as he slides up his boxers. “Thanks for the great free sex.”

  Unable to hold back my tears, I slam the doors shut before I fall onto the bed, covering my face with the pillow as I sob like a wee baby. How in the hell did I allow this to happen? I went from finding myself in bed with someone I couldn’t remember being with, to getting in bed with someone I actually wanted. Though, I shouldn’t have. I should have just stayed home. I shouldn’t have come on to him like I did. I should have kept my puss in my fucking knickers!

  “Oh my goodness, what if I am a hoor?”

  As I squeeze my eyes shut, a sob tears from my body. I’m not crying for what just happened. Okay, maybe a bit. But mostly, I’m crying for how I got here. I just wanted to be happy. I wanted to have fun. Live a bit. I was doing so fucking well, but then…

  It all came crashing down in a nasty, scary heap.

  I didn’t think it would affect me so. I didn’t think it would matter. I hadn’t loved Casey Burke in years. We’d had that star-crossed lovers kind of love. I knew he was wrong for me, but I couldn’t see past the love I had for him. He was dangerous, and I wanted him ever so desperately. He was controlling, though, and only after me for my family’s money. I knew I’d never marry him, my father wouldn’t allow it, but I couldn’t let him go. I wanted to be with him until I couldn’t be.

  But when I told him I was saving myself for marriage, he did the unthinkable.

  He raped me.

  Though it took years and an engagement to someone else on my part, I had forgiven him. Or, I thought I had. I’m not even sure how he got out of jail. He had almost killed Amberlyn, when, really, he was trying to kill Declan. Yet they let him out on good behavior and because his ma was dying. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t truly paid for what he did to me or to my family. He was a worthless piece of shite, and now, so was I. I still can’t believe I thought I had gotten over him. I hadn’t, and because of that, I now find myself out of control.

  Feeling as if I am a hoor.

  I wasn’t good enough to be loved, so Casey raped me.

  And then I slept with men I didn’t know.

  And now, someone thinks I’m a hoor.

  Maybe I am.

  Soon, I’m reaching for my phone, and when his voice fills the line, a sense of peace washes over me.

  His voice has that power, that strength.

  Home. My brother is my home.

  “
Declan.”

  I hear the panic in his voice. “Lena. What’s wrong?”

  My lips start to wobble, and I instantly regret calling him. He just had a wee little one, and I’m calling, crying. How selfish can I be? “Lena, deirfiúr, ya can tell me anything.”

  Deirfiúr. He hasn’t called me that since I was a wee lass. Soon the tears are falling in heaps, and I just can’t keep it in.

  “I’ve done lost myself, Dec.”

  “I know, Lena.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  He takes a deep breath. “Ya on drugs?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Drinking?”

  “Yeah.” I wipe my face as I look to the ceiling. “And fuckin’ like mad.”

  “Ah fuck, Lena. What is happening?”

  “I don’t know,” I lie. I can’t tell him. I don’t want to upset him any more than I already have. “I’m a maddening mess.”

  I can hear the emotion in his voice as he whispers, “Come on home. We’ll fix it. We can fix it, together, with the family.”

  But I’m shaking my head before he even finishes. “I can’t come home.”

  He’s there.

  And my family…they just wouldn’t understand or accept me in this state.

  “Lena, ya can, and ya know it. Yer home is yer safe haven. Come on, now.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Stop saying ya can’t, and come home.”

  I shouldn’t have called, and without saying anything more, I hang up. I turn my phone off so he can’t call back since I know he will.

  Looking around the room where I was just with Jackson, I can still feel his presence. The thing is, I almost felt a bit like the lass I used to be when I was in this bed with him. I can’t explain the pull he had on me, but I felt right. When he was inside of me, everything stopped. The world was nothing. All that mattered was him and me. I had planned to go the whole afternoon with him. Spend as much time as I could get out of him. I wanted that, but then it all went to straight shite.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I almost don’t know what to think. Was it all a lie I told myself? That Jackson was more than a lay, that he was better than that? Was I using him more than I realized? I don’t know, but I feel…I just feel disgusting. Sitting up, I cover my face as I cry, my body shaking with the motion. I can still feel his touch, and I have to move out of the bed, running to the shower. Even if it was good, I don’t want his touch.

 

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