My arms shake as I try to hold myself up for him, then he pulls me by my hair a little higher before he forces me forward. My arms give out and I land with my entire body flat on the bed.
“On your knees,” Free instructs.
I readjust so that my knees are bent, and my ass in the air, my chest flat on the mattress. His hand leaves my hair and I gasp when I feel his fingers against my clit.
“Did you think I wouldn’t make you feel good, Kitten?”
I moan, unable to say anything else as his fingers touch and play with me. It feels like a complete contradiction to his punishing thrusts that have yet to let up.
“It’s too much,” I sob, closing my eyes tightly, my muscles held much the same way.
“You can take it, Kitten. Your body was meant to take it. I need you to come, Whitley. Squeeze me with that tight pussy and come, Kitten,” he demands. His hand leaves my hip, slapping against the opposite side of my ass.
I whimper, my muscles trembling and then it happens. I feel his fingers pinch my clit and it sends me into a spiral as my climax takes over my entire body. My hips rear back and I meet his thrusts, pound-for-pound. Until it becomes too much. I try to communicate that, but he ignores me, his hips continuing pumping and his fingers gliding over my sensitive clit until he freezes.
“Christ,” he curses, then he falls against my back, his hips lazily sliding in and out of me. “Got the sweetest pussy I’ve ever been inside, Kitten,” he grunts. “Best fuckin’ way to wake up.”
I shouldn’t feel weird, or wrong by his words, but I do. It’s not that he could hold any kind of actual feelings for me after less than two days of knowing me, but his words, they make me feel hollow inside. He stays buried deep inside of me, his lips skimming my shoulder while we both catch our breaths.
When his hand shifts from my pussy, I feel him skim the place on my shoulder he’s been kissing. I wrinkle my nose as I feel my wetness against my skin. “This is where I want it,” he states.
“Want what?” I ask, turning my head to try and look back at him.
He licks the trail his finger made, then gently bites before he lifts his head. “My mark. This is where you’ll be branded, and the world will know you’re mine.”
I start to pant, my breathing becoming labored, and Free rolls off of me and to the side. “You okay?” he asks, but it’s in a harsh bark, instead of genuine concern.
“Branded?” I rasp, lifting my hand to wrap around the front of my neck.
Free’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, you’ll be tattooed with my name, Whitley. It’s how shit’s done in this world. You don’t have a brand, then your cunt is fair game, is that what you want?”
“Free, what does the brand mean?” I ask, my brows knitting together with confusion.
Sitting up, I adjust myself so that the sheet is covering me, my hand clenching it tight at my chest. Free doesn’t allow that, he sits up, tugging the sheet down in one quick pull.
“It means that you belong to me, Whitley. It means you’re my Old Lady, which to this club is as good as being my wife. It means if any other man even attempts to touch you, I’ll fucking kill ‘em.”
I don’t know what to say, or what to do. Staring across the bed from him, completely naked, I wait for him to say something else. He grunts, shaking his head a few times. “You don’t have a choice, Whitley. I made the mistake of waiting once, and I won’t do it again. You don’t get a fucking say. You’re mine.”
Free stands, turning his back to me and I watch as he steps into a pair of jeans on the floor, bringing them over his ass and hips. He shoves his feet into his boots and stomps out, slamming the door behind him without another word to me.
I jump, my eyes staying glued to the door. His words play on repeat. I made a mistake of waiting once, and I won’t do it again. I wish I knew what he meant, or maybe I don’t want to know. He’s made it clear that something happened in his past, something ugly and he’s also made it clear that he won’t be sharing it with me.
Closing my eyes, I inhale a deep breath before letting it out. I’ll do it, without any more question. I’ll get the tattoo, I’ll be what he needs me to be. Whatever that is—I’ll do it. I hope I have the courage to live this life, to be what he needs me to be.
This is all so new, I’ve never had to do anything other than quietly survive—until now.
FREE
I lose my temper around her. There’s something fucking wrong with me that I can’t keep my shit straight when I look into her golden eyes. She does something to me, something that I’ve never dealt with before.
I feel like shit because I feel more for her in less than two days than I did during my entire relationship with Gemma. That guilt crawls up my throat, threatening to choke the fucking shit out of me for feeling this way.
“Hey baby, you need some company?” DD asks as I walk by. She’s sprawled out naked on the couch, a prospect snoring next to her.
She’s been trying really fucking hard to spread her legs for me since I brought Whitley in here. I shake my head. “DD, not tellin’ you again, this gonna be a problem?” I ask, arching a brow.
She lets out a sigh and shakes her head. “No, Free,” she pouts. “It’s just, you don’t even know her. Is she going to be a clubgirl?” she asks.
I shake my head, scrubbing my hand over my face. “What she is, or isn’t, has fuck all to do with you, DD,” I announce.
DD stands and shuffles over to me, her bare breasts swinging with each move she makes and my eyes lock on them. Tearing my gaze away from her naked chest, I look around the room.
Most of the men have already filtered out, probably eager to get back home to their women and their jobs. Last night the party started at the Cash Bar as a sendoff for the out of town brothers, then ended up here.
“You can’t blame me for being curious, Free. I’ve never seen you take a woman to your room before. This one is dragged in from that compound, the only one anyone brought back, and she’s up in your room all night long. I thought we had something, me and you,” she says, sticking her bottom lip out in an overly exaggerated pout.
Wrapping my hand around the back of DD’s neck, I squeeze her harder than I probably should. “Babe,” I grunt, my eyes zeroing in on hers. “You know your role here. I respect you, but you’re not going to be anyone’s Old Lady. What you are going to be is a good girl who spreads when she’s told, aren’t you?” I murmur, cupping her cheek.
She nods, her eyes glazing over. I don’t know why I’m being so goddamn nice to her, I don’t have to be, but there’s no sense in being a dick, either. DD’s a nice girl, with a great rack, no sense in pissing her off. She gives me a huge smile as I let my hand fall from her cheek.
“Now, go make that prospect happy. He worked his fuckin’ ass off last night,” I chuckle.
DD rolls her eyes. “He wasn’t the only one who worked hard,” she quips.
I watch her turn around and saunter back to the sofa. Her ass sways with each step and I frown because it does absolutely nothing for me. Even her tits, which I enjoyed watching, didn’t excite me even a little. She’s definitely not Whitley with full round—everything.
Making my way into the kitchen, I go in search of water and coffee. This day already promises to be a long one filled with fucking headaches. There’s church in a couple hours, and then I have to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with Whitley. She can’t stay holed up, naked, in my room for the rest of her life—no matter how appealing that shit sounds.
Pouring myself a coffee, I take a sip and cringe. Jizzy must have made this shit. She always makes it so fucking strong and thick, it’s like goddamn motor oil. I set the mug down in the sink and untwist the cap from my water, guzzling it down.
I have to get dressed for church and tell Whitley to stay put until I come and get her. I’m sure she’ll be pissed at me, or maybe she won’t. Fuck if I know. Throwing my bottle in the trash, I make my way toward my room. My hand hovers over the knob, and I turn
around, going to the bathrooms instead.
When Snake remodeled this place, he gave us three bathrooms to use, with showers. Not ideal, but better than other clubhouses I’ve visited. I hurry through my shower, washing as quickly as I can so that I can talk to Whitley before church.
Once I’m clean, I wrap a towel around my waist and grab my clothes from the floor, carrying them down the hall and toward my room. Opening the door, I’m surprised to see Whitley still in bed. She’s got her back against the headboard and the covers pulled up to hide her naked chest from me—I hate that. Her body is fucking beautiful, and I want to see it always when we’re alone.
Dropping my towel, I grin when I hear her breath hitch. Walking over to my dresser, I pull open the top drawer and smirk. “You organized my socks,” I announce.
“I couldn’t find your underwear.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “That’s because I don’t wear any,” I state.
Grabbing a pair of socks, I open the next drawer and take a black shirt out. Then, I pull open the bottom drawer and grab a clean pair of jeans. Quickly, I get dressed, then slide my feet into my boots. Turning around, I look directly into Whitley’s eyes. She’s watching me, but she looks confused, and maybe a little concerned as well.
Walking over to the bed, I sink down beside her. Reaching up, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and gently tug her closer to me. The sheet falls from her grasp and my eyes flick down to look at her spectacular tits, then back up to her golden gaze.
“Thanks for doing my laundry, Kitten,” I say. She blinks, then I watch as her lips twitch into a smile and her cheeks pink.
“You’re welcome,” she says softly.
Leaning forward, I brush my lips across hers before I straighten my back. “I have church. If you want to shower, you can use the bathroom across the hall. Don’t go anywhere, but from here to the bathroom and back. When I’m done, I’ll come back and I’ll get you some food, then we’ll do some shopping,” I explain.
“Church?” she asks, her brows knitting together. “I didn’t peg you for sitting in a pew, and it’s not Sunday, is it?”
I’m unable to hold in my laugh at her sweet question. “It’s just what we call a meeting. I’ll be in the building still. But I gotta go, you’ll be okay?” I ask, giving her neck a gentle squeeze before I release it.
“I will,” she nods. “Free?” I stay sitting, my eyes looking into hers as I wait for her to speak. “We’re okay, I mean, everything is okay, right?” she asks.
I nod. “You’ll learn, Kitten. I run hot and cold. There’s no in between with me. I think you’re the kind of woman who can handle that, can’t you, babe?”
She frowns, her teeth sinking into the corner of her bottom lip. “I-I-yeah, I can,” she nods.
Leaning forward again, I run my nose alongside her own, then press my lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “You’ll be my good little kitty,” I rasp, my cock hardening.
“Yes,” she breathes.
Goddamn, I want to see it. I want to see how good she’s going to be for me.
Fuck.
I wish I didn’t have church right now. I growl, nipping her bottom lip with my teeth before I force myself to stand. I adjust my dick as I take a step back.
“See you soon, remember what I said.”
She blinks, then nods. “To the bathroom across the hall, and back. I remember.”
Without another word, I turn around and walk out of the room. My feet move quickly, if they don’t I’m liable to stay there and fuck her again, just to see how good she’d be for me—how sweet she’d be. I shake my head with a chuckle. I’m so fucked with this girl. So unbelievably, goddamn fucked.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHITLEY
As soon as Free walks out of the door, I let out an exhaled breath. I honestly think there could be something wrong with the man. He’s so hot and cold like he said, but when he’s hot, it almost makes his outbursts and mini-tantrums worth it. I don’t know how this is going to work long-term, but I’m willing to give it a try—especially when he calls me Kitten.
Standing from the bed, I grab the shirt I was sleeping in and pull it over my head, then hurry toward the bathroom. I’m thankful when it has a door lock and isn’t like a public restroom and shower. I just imagined that’s what it would be like with all of these men living here.
Opening up cabinets I blink, in surprise, when I see a basket full of brand new, in the wrapper, toothbrushes. I snatch one for myself, then go on a hunt for toothpaste, soap, and a towel.
I can’t believe how stocked up they are here. Not only did I find a new travel-sized tube of toothpaste, but I also found a bar of soap and a disposable razor. It may not be anything fancy, but it will all make me feel human again.
Once I’m washed, shaved, and my teeth are brushed, I look at myself in the mirror. My face is bare, and my hair is a tangled mess that’s seen better days. It’s my eyes that have me staring, unable to look away, they’re big and bright. They don’t look terrified like they usually do in my reflection. They almost sparkle.
This should be terrifying, this entire situation, but for some reason I’m calm. Maybe because I’ve been through so much in the past three years, maybe because although Free is intimidating and a little unpredictable, I’ve never felt more comfortable around another person in my entire life.
With the towel wrapped around my body, I start to hurry back toward the room when I run into a body. I freeze in my spot and crane my neck back to look up at the strong body I ran into. He’s younger than me, his body strong but lean and his hair hangs in front of his eyes, his head tipped down.
“I’m sorry.”
He smirks, and I catch a glimpse of his bright white teeth. “You lost, babe?” he asks.
I shake my head, clutching the towel tighter to my naked body. “I’m headed to that room,” I say lifting my chin.
He looks back in the direction of Free’s room, then turns around to face me again. “Free? You’re the girl he brought back from the compound. Thought he’d chained you to the bed or some shit.”
Frowning, I look at my feet, but he reaches out, placing his finger beneath my chin and tips my head back. His blue eyes search my face intensely. He nods, dragging his finger down my neck. “I’m only a prospect, but you need anything at all, babe you let me know,” he murmurs.
A throat clears, and my head quickly turns to the side. It’s Free, and the look on his face is nothing less than murderous. “Don’t you have something to clean, Prospect?” he growls.
The man in front of me winks, then turns and slowly strolls past Free and continues down the hall. I’m frozen to my spot, unsure of what to say or do. Unsure if Free thought that the interaction was more, and if he’s pissed off at me or not.
“Put something on, we’re leaving,” he growls.
Yup.
He’s pissed.
I hurry into the bedroom, slipping inside, I grab my neatly washed and folded dress from the top of the dresser. Slipping it on, I tug it down, trying not to feel self-conscious about the fact that my bra is still damp and hanging from the closet doorknob, and my only pair of panties are dirty.
The door slams and I jump, spinning around to see Free standing in front of it, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He glowers, his brows furrowed as he just stares at me. I shift from foot to foot, my empty stomach twisting as I wait for him to speak, yell, hit me or whatever.
“You enjoy flirting with other men, Whitley? I mean, if you like that kind of shit then you can go live with the whores in their room,” he snaps.
I flinch at his words and feel as if he slapped me, that’s how badly they sting. “Stop threatening me,” I whisper.
“Excuse me?” he barks.
Lifting my head, I look him dead in the eyes, gathering all of my strength and courage. Clearing my throat, I speak a little louder. “Stop threatening me, Free,” I demand. “If you’re going to keep threatening me, keep holding being a whore over
my head then just send me out to whore. I won’t have you constantly trying to scare me with the threat. I ran into him by accident. I wasn’t fucking him in the hallway,” I snap.
Free’s brows shoot up and his mouth drops open slightly, and it takes him a few seconds to school his features. Obviously, he didn’t think that I would call him out on his tactics. After being with him a total of two days, I’ve lost count how many times he’s told me he’s going to whore me out if I don’t fall in line with whatever it is he wants. It’s ridiculous.
He clears his throat, his dark eyes looking directly at me. “Okay, Kitten. Fair enough,” he grumbles. “When I nicknamed you Kitten it was because you looked so fucking scared with that sicko. I didn’t think you had fucking claws.”
I can’t help myself, I start to giggle, lifting my hand to cover my mouth. Free’s lips twitch in a smile, and he closes the distance between us. My forehead falls against his chest and my shoulders shake as my giggle turns into an actual full-blown laugh.
Free’s arms wrap around me and he tugs me close to his chest. Lifting my head, I look up into his face and my laughter dies. He’s smiling, a big bright, beautiful smile, and it’s the sexiest thing that I think I’ve ever seen.
“Let’s get you fed, Kitten. Then, we’ll go shopping for some clothes. I can’t have you walking around braless and pantyless,” he chuckles. I gasp, tugging my already longish dress down and he wraps his hands around my waist, squeezing me. “I can’t see anything, Whitley. I just know because your bra is hanging up, and you were wearing your panties last night. As clean as you made this room, I don’t think you’re the kind of girl who wears panties on day two.”
“That’s gross,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
Free presses his lips to the tip of my wrinkled nose and I relax a little. “Food, then clothes. As much as I want to keep you naked, I don’t want anyone else to see you that way,” he grins, taking a step back. He slips his hand in mine, and together we walk out of the room.
Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3) Page 6