His Secret Baby (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Waltz, Vanessa

  “What?”

  “I thought you’d be different. You don’t suck cock like a spoiled princess.”

  A flash of heat sears my cheeks. “I want you to want me.”

  “I fucking do.”

  He grabs my head and pushes himself through my lips, fucking my mouth hard and deep. His cock hits the back of my throat, and then I hear his breath quickening. My heart hammers, realizing that he’s close.

  He’s going to come in my mouth.

  I’ve never done it before.

  “You’re going to suck every fucking drop from me.”

  He growls it out in a warning—a threat—but there’s nothing more than I want in that moment. Silas’s length hitches in my throat as he buries himself deep enough for me to gag, and then he lets out a long groan. My mouth floods with warmth as he pulses in and out, and the liquid rushes down my throat. I let it swirl around my tongue as his cock jumps inside me, and I tighten my lips around him to clean him.

  “Suck every drop.”

  I pull back, licking his head as my pussy throbs with need. He’s still hard as steel, and my thighs clench imagining him inside me.

  His arm wraps around my waist and hauls me upright. “It’s your turn to come. Put your hands on that wall.”

  I obey him as he positions himself behind me, and then I bend over, following the pressure of his hand. Is he going to fuck me?

  Then I feel his dick, still wet with my mouth, touch my pussy. He slides into me without a condom. A stroke of panic hits me, but I moan at the feeling of his bare cock sliding through me. He grabs my waist and thrusts his hips. My arms buckle against the wall as he fucks me hard. Every nerve is sensitive to his touch. I can feel my walls, still raw from the other night, moistening to guide him through. And as fucked-up as it is, I want him to come again. I want to feel that warm burst inside my pussy, because there couldn’t be anything hotter than that.

  But his intention is to get me off. He reaches around, his hand massaging my clit in circles as he fucks me, and he anchors hard inside me, then I feel it—like the click of a button—and I scream as my walls clench hard over him, and he pumps in and out.

  “Goddamn it, Fawn,” he says in apparent appreciation. “I’m going to have a hard time not blowing my life savings on you.”

  He lifts me up and slides out of me while I’m still gasping.

  I feel like I’m caught in a whirlwind, still spinning in Silas’s arms. He sinks down into my mattress and I press my face into his chest, breathing in his comforting scent as he holds me.

  “Listen—”

  “Please don’t leave.”

  I’m embarrassed to say it. This guy barely knows me, and he’s made it clear that he’s only here to fuck my brains out. Silas is a distraction, that’s it. He’s not my knight in shining armor. He kills people for a living.

  Something stirs in his eyes as he meets my gaze. “I can’t.”

  “Come on. It hasn’t even been an hour.”

  My mood plummets as he sets me aside and stands up, shrugging his pants back over his waist. He zips himself and ties his belt.

  “I just want to talk to someone.”

  “You don’t want to talk to me.”

  He’s in a hurry to leave, and I can’t figure out why. I stand up from the bed and grab his arm as he tucks in his shirt.

  “Why not?”

  Heat breaks out over my face as his steady gaze meets mine, and I feel it penetrate me. His arms slide up mine, squeezing slightly.

  “You don’t want me in your life, hon.”

  I can’t roll my eyes hard enough. Does he really think that’ll work on me? “You can’t be any worse than the guys in this place.”

  “You don’t know me,” he shoots back quickly.

  I want to know him. He stole my attention the moment he shook my father’s hand. I was so used to people scraping and bowing in front of my father, but Silas did neither.

  “I know that you’re not a pushover. That’s how you caught my attention.”

  “You sure it was that and not that I was a new guy?”

  “Fuck you. I have standards.” Some.

  He lets out a throaty laugh and shakes his head.

  “No one had the balls to fuck me before you.”

  “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “You said it was a one-time thing. Now what is this, a two-time thing?”

  My skin burns as he slowly lifts his hands and glides his palms over my shoulders. “With your dad out of the picture, I don’t see why I can’t fuck you as often as I want.”

  “My dad’s dead, not out of the picture.”

  “Sorry,” he says, not looking sorry at all.

  It fans the flames of my hatred for whoever the hell killed him. “When I find out who killed him, I’ll tear his balls off with my bare hands.”

  Silas makes a face. “I hope I never see that.”

  “How the hell did you become a member anyway?”

  It’s supposed to be hard. No one just walks into the Black Dragons and gets a membership, just like that.

  “It wasn’t my choice, to be honest.” Then he makes a face. “The initiation ceremony was fucking weird.”

  “You should see our weddings. Some brides are dragged to the altar.”

  “What?”

  “The Dragons believe in conquests. You take the woman you want—win her allegiance by making her submit.”

  “Now that I can get behind.”

  I’ll bet he can.

  Then he leans forward and gives me a kiss. His fist rises to my cheek and he brushes my skin with his knuckles in a tender gesture. “You’ll see me again.”

  Silas grabs his jacket, looking over his shoulder to give me a wink that sends a shiver of pleasure up my thighs.

  6

  Silas

  A hit is a hit.

  They all look the same when they’re dead, and I’ve seen hundreds upon hundreds of dead guys. No matter the method, the result is the same. But this one felt different. I let the blood of a man run warm over my hands as I slit his throat. I washed my hands clean so that I could spread them over his daughter’s naked body, and feel her nipples peak between my fingers.

  Bar none, it’s one of the most fucked-up things I’ve ever done. Borderline cruel—and I don’t do cruelty. I just couldn’t help myself. I had to have her. You don’t get signals from a girl like that and just ignore her. And then I spent the next couple nights dreaming about her pussy, until I just decided to go to her and take it. What’s stopping me?

  You killed her fucking father. She’s going to find out and hate you.

  A nagging feeling that took root the moment I saw her in that whorehouse plagues me. I can’t believe this fucking place stuck her there the moment her dad died, as if she wasn’t worth a damn.

  I grab the bottom rung of the ladder, the rust peeling off like dark-orange powder as I climb. My boot scrapes the cement as I kick myself off. A bitter chill whips up the higher I climb. My target’s in the next building over, and I’ve studied his habits. He’ll be in the east window at 7:30 p.m. I know nothing about him, other than he’s a contract for the Dragons. It’s quiet on the rooftop. No witnesses. I unpack my equipment and set up the tripod for my rifle, careful not to uncap the mirror. My stomach rests on the cement and I bury the butt of the rifle against my shoulder, taking aim. It’s an easy shot. The room is lit and his head is bent forward, reading something in his lap. Inhale. My chest fills with air and my muscles tense. I try to pretend that I’m there, sitting in that armchair. I breathe with him, follow his head with my arm. He thinks he sees something outside.

  I pull the trigger.

  Exhale.

  His head slams back and the glasses fly off his nose. The man slumps in his armchair as a dark stain coats the back of the chair. Distantly I hear a scream. A girl’s voice.

  Not possible.

  But I hear it in my head as a child runs into the room, and then I see her again. The girl from our cr
ew when we were kids—the one I found facedown on the beach after watching Achilles—

  A cold sweat breaks over my skin and I close the scope, dismantling the sniper rifle as my heart flies like a rabbit fleeing a predator. I don’t get like this after jobs.

  It’s this fucking city. I’m reminded every day of the past. The salted air turns my stomach, and every time I think of that round face alive with malice I want to kill someone. The rage burns like an everlasting fire in my stomach, sickening me. He needs to die—the first opportunity I get.

  I get back to the syndicate quickly, taking the elevator to my new room. I’m still not used to coming back to the same place, having a room of my own. A room with a kick-ass view of the city. It’s foggy tonight, the mist from the ocean rolling over the distant hills and spilling over the streets. I set my briefcase down and strip off my clothes before I enter the shower. The hot water blasts my shoulders, and tension slowly relieves from the fist-sized knots. It’ll be just a bit longer, and then I’ll be free. Viper, treacherous snake that he is, seems to have kept his word so far. Somehow they haven’t been able to find a suspect for Haines’s murder. But they will. Soon.

  And I can’t leave this place, or they’ll kill me anyway.

  There’s nothing to do but wait for whatever move Viper is planning, and hope that I can be there when he fucks up. What to do until then?

  As soon as my hands roll over my cock, I think of her. Sweet little Fawn. Her perfectly round tits popping out of my mouth, her lips wrapped around my cock, taking me deep. Swallowing every drop of cum and digging her fingers into my ass as if she couldn’t get enough of me.

  Within seconds I’m rock hard. I stroke myself, thinking of making another appointment with the mistress to have Fawn to myself again. I want her pussy this time. Fuck, I want her so badly that I can barely think of anything else.

  The spray from the hot water shuts off, and I run my hands through my wet hair, squeezing the water down my back. Then I hear it—the sound of fabric rubbing against something.

  There’s someone in my fucking suite.

  Shit.

  My foot touches the cold tiles. The water hits them, making a pat-pat sound that grates against my ears. As I put my other foot down, I hear a slight intake of breath, a high, girlish sound. Two feet from the bathroom door I catch the scent of juniper wafting through the air and a vivid image of Fawn’s tits, arching into my chest as I bury my face into her neck, burns in my head.

  I grab the towel from the rack and wrap it around my waist, no longer bothering to be quiet.

  A woman’s silhouette lies on my bed. Her head turns, making a curtain of hair fall across her face. I can’t see a thing, so I leave the bathroom door open. The light drifts over her body. She’s wearing the same low-cut red dress, the tear already repaired. She doesn’t make a sound as I approach the bed. Fawn just lies there, the red fabric flowing over her curves. It’s like water—a skin so thin I could probably grab her tits and feel her nipples standing up. She’s got red lips, too, to match the color of her dress. I’m normally not a fan of the whole women in the red dress routine, but I think I’d fuck Fawn if she wore a paper bag with arm and leg holes cut out.

  “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to break into a hitman’s room?”

  “I thought I’d return the favor.”

  She sits up, and my cock does a little jump as the strap of her dress falls down her shoulder, exposing an expanse of creamy tits. She pushes it back automatically.

  “I could have hurt you, Fawn.”

  “You’re too smart for that.”

  My hands grip her shoulders, and her bones bite into my fingers. She’s as fragile as a bird, but her gaze is unflinching. Unafraid.

  “Don’t do it again.”

  Fawn parts her lips the moment I touch her, and a pink blush spreads over her cheeks. She has a thing for me. The man who killed her father. Guilt’s claws sink into me, drawing blood. I don’t want to feel bad for this girl.

  “Coming back for more so soon?”

  She sighs. An impatient sound. “Believe it or not, I didn’t come here to suck your cock.” Fawn swallows hard. “I came here to ask you for something else.”

  Color me intrigued.

  “What?”

  “Claim me.”

  A smile tugs at my lips. “I thought I already did that, sweetheart.”

  “I meant, claim me as your woman.”

  What the fuck is she talking about?

  She grasps the edge of my towel and pulls slightly, rocking my hips forward. And then she reaches between my legs, cupping my balls in her palm. It’s like an energy shot to my brain, and all I can think about are her hands stroking my cock.

  “I want to belong to one man.”

  My towel drops to the floor, and I let out a low hiss as her skin comes in contact with my cock. I love watching her feminine hands wrap around me, the pout of her lips, ripe for a good fucking.

  “I’d stay here. You’d have me whenever you want.”

  “I can already fuck you whenever I want.”

  “Yeah,” she says with an edge in her voice. “So can the rest of the syndicate.”

  My stomach turns as I think about a line of johns leading to her room. She’s fresh meat, and let’s face it, gorgeous. There’ll be men waiting to fuck her brains out. It takes a second to realize I’m not okay with that.

  “I don’t want to be a whore, Silas. I don’t want to spread my legs just to be able to stay here.”

  “Why are you staying here?”

  She looks at me. “Where am I going to go?” Her bottom lip trembles, and a pang hits my chest when she draws in a shaky breath. “I know you don’t know me, and that you don’t give a shit about my problems, but I can help you. I know how things work in this place. I can help you rise to the top.”

  “I could care less about that,” I mutter under my breath, tracing a finger over the swell of her tits. “My membership is temporary.”

  “Why the hell would you want to leave? You have everything you want here: food, clothes, women—”

  “Except freedom. I won’t be kept in a cage, hon.”

  “Fine, then,” she says in a weaker voice, frantically searching me. “I could still help you. I know every exit from the syndicate. If you ever wanted to leave, I could help you.”

  I doubt she could tell me anything I don’t already know.

  Fawn strokes my cock, swiping her thumb over my head and smearing my pre-cum right underneath. Jesus Christ, it feels fucking good. I know I’m being manipulated, but I don’t really give a fuck.

  “What else?”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Me.”

  Of course. This must have been her plan—get me addicted to her body and then beg me to claim her so that nobody else will. I balance the pros and cons in my head, but it’s not easy to make a decision when there’s a woman’s hand on my cock. I’m surprised at her. I figured she would be a shrinking violet, but she knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to go after it. Can’t help but admire that a little bit.

  “Where would you stay?”

  “With you.”

  I make a face. Living alone is sort of part of the job, except that I’m a member now. I’m not the man I was a week ago. This place owns me now. It disgusts me to admit that. Why the hell would I want to take on more responsibility? I can fuck her whenever I want. There’s no need to bring her into my life.

  Except you did ruin hers.

  I feel a twist in my chest. Guilt. Every time I look at her, it needles at me even though I don’t regret what I did. That feeling won’t go away, because deep down I feel slightly responsible for her.

  “Silas, you won’t regret it. I promise.”

  “I don’t think I’d ever regret you.”

  Her face just glows, and I feel a tug at my chest again when she gives me a bright smile.

  I take my cock out of her hands and aim it toward her parted, slightly surprised lips. Her mouth opens obedi
ently, and a surge of pleasure floods my veins as she takes me without protesting. My hand grips the back of her head as she sucks me vigorously, her tongue gliding down my shaft.

  It’s not going to last. The truth will come out, and when it does she’ll hate my fucking guts. It’s beyond wrong, but she keeps coming back to me, and I can’t resist her. I sure as shit don’t want her mouth wrapped around another man’s cock. No, her lips were made for me.

  I rip her shoulder strap off, and it tears from her dress like the cheap piece of shit it is. Fuck the dress. She won’t need it anymore. Fawn’s my woman now, and I won’t have her wearing anything that marks her as a free-for-all fuck.

  She tongues my head, flicking the sensitive flesh as I grab the neck of her dress and yank hard. It makes a loud, ripping sound, and her tits spill out. No bra—but that was obvious. I tear it all the way down, until her naked body lies upon the red, satiny fabric. The only scrap of clothing left is the thong they made her wear—a small red triangle to protect her pussy. The thong rides high on her hips, and I debate whether to rip it from her body, or fuck her while she wears it.

  She’s driving me wild with her sloppy blow job. I can feel my dick pulsing inside her throat, her tiny mouth barely able to handle my girth. I want those creamy tits bouncing in my hands as she rides my cock. I pull out as she grinds her mouth against me, and grasp her face in my hands.

  “We do this, and there’s no turning back.”

  “I’ve been waiting for this my whole fucking life.”

  “No matter what you might hear, and no matter how much you hate me, you belong to me. You’re mine, understand?”

  For however long it’ll last.

  She looks like that doesn’t bother her one bit. It will. And then it’ll be too late for her.

  I’m a bastard.

  Fawn nods, her chest pulsing up and down, her gaze flicking back to my cock.

  I thumb her bottom lip and she returns my gaze. “I’m going to lie down, and you’re going to climb on top of me and ride my cock. I want you to fuck me as though it’s your last.”

  She sucks my thumb into her mouth and bites down slightly before giving me a small nod. Then I climb over the bed and lie down, my heart thumping when she swings over my body, her hair tickling my chest as her slender thighs grip my waist. Her tits hang like perfect teardrops, and I grab a handful of them as she grabs my shoulders and lifts herself over my waist. My eyes feast on her slim body, the tits spilling out of my hands, her messy blonde hair clinging to her neck. A week ago she was the daughter of a member of the most powerful gang on the West Coast. Basically untouchable. Now she’s climbing over my lap. There’s a certain power in being able to bring a girl like Fawn to her knees. She’s not as slutty as she thinks she is. Deep down, she’s still Daddy’s girl. A fawn.