by James, Gemma
He reached over the rim and filled my pussy with two thick fingers. A deep moan rumbled from my throat, ushering me into surrender as I bowed my spine.
“Don’t stop,” I whimpered.
“I’m going to fuck you with my fingers, and you’re going to stop yourself from coming. You can do that for me, right baby?”
Unable to find my voice, I nodded, though I would have agreed to anything he said in that moment. He thrust his fingers in and out several times, pushing me to the edge of orgasm.
“Oh God. I can’t!”
“Yes, you can.” His voice was calm. Assuring. As he kept up the steady cadence of his finger-fucking, I thrashed my head back and forth, breathing noisily through my mouth.
Concentrating on not coming.
Impossible. He was trying to kill me, and he hadn’t even shoved me under the water yet.
He reached for a bar of soap and slid it down the valley of my breasts, maddeningly slow. Next, he circled my aching nipples, leaving a trail of suds that he washed away with warm water only seconds later.
“I’m gonna come,” I panted.
“No, you’re not.” Withdrawing his fingers, he stood and entered the tub with a splash, and my heartbeat took off in a gallop as he straddled my chest, his muscled thighs surrounding my shoulders. He lifted long enough to reach behind him and grab my thigh, tugging me down a couple of inches until water enclosed me up to my ears.
“Rafe!” Panic seized my voice, and I gazed up at him with tears in my eyes as I kicked against the other end of the tub to no avail. His weight on my chest kept me from gaining an inch of leverage.
He brought his index finger to my lips. “What did I say about this mouth?”
I clamped my lips shut for several seconds, until the need for air burned my lungs, and I opened wide, greedy for air.
And that’s when he pushed his cock into my mouth, his warm, smooth shaft heavy on my tongue.
“Blink three times when you need air.”
Each beat of my heart counted the seconds. Our eyes locked and held. He didn’t move, and I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t even breathe.
The need for air became too great. I blinked frantically, prompting him to pull out.
“Forty seconds at a time, babe. You ready?”
“No.” I swallowed hard, pleading with a desperate glance. “Don’t pull me under. Rafe, I’m begging you.”
“You know what begging does to me.” He positioned the head of his cock at my lips. “Take a deep breath.”
I did, gulping in air as if it were my last breath, and he shoved inside. As I fastened my lips around his erection, he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me under.
9. DEVIANT GAMES
Rafe
Feet thrashing. Water sloshing. The force of thrusting hips. The suction of gorgeous lips wrapped around flesh-covered steel.
Fuck, how could something so wrong feel so good?
A groan rumbled from my throat, and I almost didn’t recognize the sound of my voice. It was a primal sound, a raw and savage consequence of the sexually depraved act I’d forced upon Alex.
Instead of stopping me, it only spurred me on, and I became entranced by the way her lips moved up and down my shaft. Alex’s dark curls floated around her submerged face, eyes shuttered in anguish. I had her suspended in hell, her only reprieve the necessity for air.
Her only weapon against me the freedom of her tongue.
Goddamn, her tongue drove me wild. Forcing her under water did things to me—things I didn’t want to analyze because doing this to her shouldn’t feel so fucking good, but it did.
Beyond good.
It was fucking rapturous.
If I could give her just one thing, it would be this feeling.
But this feeling was dangerous, an addiction I couldn’t fight. Dangerous didn’t begin to describe the game I played with Alex’s life every time I stole her breath. Using water to do it only added another layer to my twisted proclivities.
She whined around my cock, and I jerked her upward by the shoulders, withdrawing from her mouth after her face broke the surface. She gulped in lungfuls of air, interspersed with a couple of coughs. Water dripped from her hair, down her face, and when she opened her eyes, those jade orbs I adored so much were rimmed in red.
Unable to help myself, I leaned down and claimed her mouth, pushing my tongue against hers as our moans blended and echoed off the bathroom walls. Slowly breaking the kiss, I inched back and trailed kisses along her jawline.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” I whispered, still kissing her wet skin.
As the seconds passed, her breathing evened out. “I can’t do this,” she pleaded.
“You can.” I veered back and met her eyes. “I might be on my knees right now, but you’ve dragged me to them, Alex.” Not giving her a chance to protest again, I dick-slapped her cheek then shoved back into the hot, wet glove of her mouth and submerged her once more.
And we settled into a rhythm, forty seconds at a time.
Forty seconds of unimaginable ecstasy for me, and a never ending reign of terror for her. The constant throb in my balls had long ago buried my conscience.
Nothing else existed but my cock, her warm mouth, and her head under water.
And her pleas for it to stop every time her beautiful face broke the surface.
Hell, I could fuck her mouth like this all day, and I was tempted to. Having to stop every forty seconds certainly prolonged it. I yanked her from the water again and let her hoard air.
After she’d gasped in enough breaths to satiate her need for life, she glared at me.
She fucking glared.
No fearful, pleading looks from Alex.
Those were gone, replaced by fierce, indignant anger.
If I’d had any doubt before that this woman was made for me, I didn’t now. She bent under my will, submitting to be used as a fuck-hole, and in the face of confronting her biggest fear, she still came at me with attitude.
“God, I fucking love you.”
“Then stop waterboarding me and come already.”
A smile threatened to tilt my mouth. “It’s gonna take more than forty seconds to make me blow my load, babe.” I ran the tip of my cock across her lips. “Besides, I like watching you struggle under water. It shows me how fucking unbreakable you are.”
“No one’s unbreakable.”
“Not the average person, but you’re far from average.” I pressed against the stubborn seam of her mouth. “Open.”
That glare of hers grew in intensity as she parted her lips. I slid inside, but this time I didn’t push her under. Each thrust of my hips brought me to the back of her throat, eliciting a heaving gag. After twenty seconds, I shoved her under again, knowing the remaining time would seem like an eternity to her, since I hadn’t given her the chance to prepare.
She kicked her legs, renewed with strength and fear, and scraped me with her teeth. I hauled her face out of the bath water, and she sputtered and cursed at me. “Does this make you happy, Rafe?”
“Fuck yes. Euphoric. How about you?”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m headed there already.”
“Please, Rafe. I can’t take any more.” A sob bled from her quivering lips, and the darkness inside me snapped.
I was sure she could handle more—hours upon hours of pushing her under—because she was fucking strong. Stronger than me.
Kinder than me.
More lovable than me.
I leaned down until our noses touched. “Okay. We’ll stop, but if I don’t come, you don’t come.”
“Fine,” she snapped, her blazing eyes spitting the wrath of her ire. “Let me go, and we can both be frustrated.”
Fuck, if my cock didn’t hate me as I stood on my knees and pulled her upright. Reaching for the key to the cuffs on the counter, I kept my gaze trained on her. The way she returned my stare gave me pause. She gritted her teeth together, brows arched
low over her eyes, the angles of her face a mural of determination.
I might not be able to see the wheels in her head turning, but I sensed them, going round and round with nefarious ideas of payback. I reached around her and unlocked the cuffs before dropping them over the rim of the tub. The metal clanked to the floor, and that’s when she struck, shoving me with such raging strength that I fell into the water, my back slamming against the other end of the tub.
As Alex straddled my thighs, she removed the clothespin from her nose and tossed it on the floor. I was damn glad the faucet was situated in the middle of the tub against the wall, otherwise, I might have cracked the back of my head open. In mere seconds, she had me under her spell, her fingers gouging my shoulders as her pussy sheathed me with an angry, downward plunge. I leaned my head back, rapid breaths escaping through parted lips, and watched her while she fucked me.
It would be so easy to take control, to stand and throw her over my shoulder and stomp into the bedroom like a fucking caveman, where I could do everything and anything to her.
The types of punishing things that made me breathe faster, moan louder, give in quicker.
Gripping her hips, I slammed her onto my cock so hard the contact radiated through us both. “Goddamn, Alex.”
Water splashed, and she tipped her head back, long, wet curls sliding off her shoulders. The beautiful column of her neck drew my gaze, then I dipped lower, entranced by the jiggle of her tits, the contraction of my inked name on her abdomen as she tightened her muscles, and the strength in her thighs that steadied her ferocious pace.
I couldn’t stop her.
She’d turned the tables on me, and now I lay underneath her, helpless in unrestrained repose. Her rosy nipples drew taut, her jaw slackened, her lids shuttered. That seductive mouth of hers formed a perfect O as a cry of completion launched from her throat.
She was fucking coming.
Breaking the rules.
Exerting her power over me in this moment.
I was helpless to stop the eruption.
“Fucking look at me.”
Her eyes locked on mine, lids at half-mast from her orgasm, and the connection between us did me in. The pressure in my balls reached zenith, and I jerked her body flush with my lap, burying my cock as deep as possible as I exploded inside her rebellious cunt.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck!”
We stared at each other afterward, our chests rising and falling fast from the chaos of our deviant games. I let go of her hips and dropped my arms like deadweight. She slumped forward, and her tits smashed against my chest as she laid her head on my shoulder.
Our heartbeats thrashed to the same rhythm, our bones softening to the same jelly-like substance that stole the life from our marrow.
But we were still joined, my semi lengthening into a greedy piston once more.
And her hips responded to our mutual dance.
10. VISITORS
Alex
Rafe and I were back in the kitchen when a black pickup pulled into the driveway. I stalled chopping peppers for the omelets, and my heart skipped a beat.
“Who’s here?”
Rafe continued whipping eggs in a bowl, an unworried expression on his face. I took in his non-reaction to the unfamiliar truck in the driveway as my cue not to panic, which wasn’t easy, as I’d been in fight-or-flight mode for so long when it came to unexpected shit.
“It’s Jax and…” he trailed off, his brows narrowing over eyes cast in brilliance from the sun shining through the square kitchen window. Clay pots homing long-dead plants lined the windowsill. “He’s got company with him. That’s all I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”
He raised a brow, his mouth a wry slant. “I was a little preoccupied.”
Preoccupied with shoving my head under water. It happened an hour ago, but I still experienced a visceral response.
Accelerated pulse. Sweat dripping down my spine. Thready breaths.
I’d survived things that would make the toughest of men fold, yet water and a needy cock threatened to break me. No man on this planet could push me past my limits like Rafe did.
Zach hadn’t even accomplished that.
Maybe the part that bothered me most was how I caved every time. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Rafe.
“Besides,” he said. “I wanted his arrival to be a surprise.”
“How come?” I crossed my arms, utterly aware of my nakedness, and eyed him in suspicion. When Jax showed up, shit usually hit the fan.
He gave me a long, considering look. “I need a best man if I’m getting married, don’t I?”
A car door slammed, interrupting anything I might have said. Not that I had anything to say; I was too stunned by Rafe’s words.
“Go put some clothes on,” he said, smacking my bare ass. “Though I’m fucking tempted to make you greet Jax and Company naked for that stunt you pulled in the bathtub.”
Before he changed his mind, I hurried into our bedroom and rifled through my duffle until I found a red checkered sundress. I pulled it over my head, and as I laced up the bodice, heart knocking behind my ribs, I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face.
He was going to marry me.
In the back of my mind, logic tolled the bell of caution, reminding me how life often left me in the tatters of bloody destruction.
Fuck logic. And fuck the other shoe hanging over my head. That fucker wasn’t going to drop. I would take this morsel of happiness and run with it.
Fight for it.
Enjoy every second.
The soft cotton dress swished against my knees as I made my way into the living room again, where I found Jax pulling Rafe into a quick one-armed hug.
“Damn, it’s good to see you,” Jax said.
My gaze fell on the girl standing behind him and to the side. She wore cutoffs and a black tank, with a compact duffle slung over her shoulder. Something about her seemed familiar—not familiar in that I’d seen her before, but familiar because of the vulnerable aura surrounding her.
Jax and Rafe’s conversation became background noise for the wheels spinning in my head. She was gorgeous, with blond hair that fell to her ass and striking blue eyes I only saw a hint of before she aimed them toward the floor. There was a frailty about her that unsettled me.
She was too thin.
Too timid.
Straight white teeth sucking in her bottom lip in a move I recognized as a nervous one.
The bruises marring her pale skin were the biggest giveaway.
My gaze clashed with Jax’s. His held a hint of guilt, reminiscent of the way he’d looked at Nikki right before she was killed, and that’s when it hit me. This girl was a slave like the one I’d seen in that tunnel last year. I could practically smell the fear coming off of her, sense the psychological damage behind her guarded eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest, cleavage rising and falling too rapidly to be normal in normal circumstances.
But nothing was normal about this situation.
Jax settled a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. The reaction was subtle, and I might have missed it if I hadn’t been scrutinizing her every move. He propelled her a few inches forward before dropping his arm to his side.
“Can you show her to my room?” he asked, directing the question at me. “I’ll take the couch,” he added, a look passing between him and the girl. Whatever he relayed to her without words seemed to ease some tension from her shoulders.
“What’s your name?”
“We’re calling her Angel,” Jax answered.
“What do you mean you’re calling her Angel? Does she not have a name?”
“I’m sure she has one.” Jax inched toward her, shadowing her side in a protective maneuver. “She doesn’t remember it.”
I waited for her to offer something more, but she remained quiet.
“I’m Alex.”
Still nothing. Not even a “nice to meet you” coming from
her full lips.
The disquiet that settled over the four of us was suffocating. Finally, Jax broke the tension, snapping it with the force of a whip.
“You’re safe here,” he told her. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
Rafe arched a brow. “What’s going on, Jax?”
Running his hand through his perpetually shaggy blond hair, he pierced Rafe with an expression that said they’d talk later.
After the little women were out of earshot, of course.
Rafe settled a hand at the small of my back, fingers pointing toward the cleft in my ass. “Babe, give us a minute.”
I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. After disobeying him in the tub earlier, I didn’t want to push it. “Follow me,” I told Angel, biting back a growl that would tell the testosterone in the room exactly what I thought of their tactics.
She followed me down the short hallway, and I paused in front of Jax’s bedroom, hesitant to enter that untouched domain. I’d never been inside his room. Shaking off the uneasy feeling, I shoved the door open and crossed the threshold into a room that smelled musty from disuse. The space appeared innocuous enough, left tidy from the last time he’d been here, bed made and all. Suddenly, I wondered if Jax had visited the cabin since the morning he and Rafe blew up the Perrone estate.
My heartbeat thrashed in my chest as something else occurred to me, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
Had Rafe been back? Had he waited until I left this place, tears of grief saturating my face as I followed Jax out of the cabin for what I believed to be the last time? While I’d suffered his death on my own in Portland, had he hidden out here before moving on to Shelton’s fight ring off the coast?
The idea sent a ripple of rage through me. I wanted to scream and pound my fists on the walls. I wanted him to grovel for what he’d done.
I wanted him to realize how much he’d hurt me, because I wasn’t convinced he understood the extent of it.