Knocked Up by the Bad Boy

by Waltz, Vanessa

  An extremely shocked look crosses over his face, which quickly darkens. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He’s too cold—too brutal, and just not enough.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.”

  Then I walk toward the door, my head completely clear. I’d rather live in poverty than marry a man who doesn’t give a fuck about me. Hell, we don’t give a fuck about each other.

  My body snaps backward and spins around as he grabs my upper arms.

  “Let me go!”

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “You need me more than I need you!”

  He shoves me against the wall, his face red as he yells at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You don’t give a fuck about me. All you care about is your fucking family.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. My head’s a bit preoccupied with knocking up the daughter of the most powerful biker gang leader.”

  “So I’ll just leave town. He will never find out and we won’t have to get married.”

  “There’s no fucking way I’d let you leave town.”

  “Actually, I think it’s a free country—”

  I shove his chest, and scream in outrage when he pins me back against the wall effortlessly. His face splits with a wide smile as he laughs at my anger.

  “Maya, I want this baby. I really do.”

  “Have a fucking kid with someone else!”

  “I tried, and they didn’t work out. You will.”

  “Well, you have shitty judgment because I can’t stand you.”

  I hold my breath in as my cheeks slowly burn, immediately regretting those words, but Johnny merely shrugs, looking unconcerned.

  “You can’t stand me, huh?”

  The hands holding my wrists to the wall become sensual.

  Oh no.

  They glide over my skin, giving me goose bumps as Johnny’s hips dig into mine. His lips just brush my cheek.

  “You must hate my fucking guts.”

  I feel the outline of his cock, slowly starting to harden against my thigh. I clench my thighs together and feel the wetness gathering between him.

  “Y-yeah.”

  Damn it.

  It’s as though he flipped a switch that makes my skin hypersensitive. His hand glides up my neck and grasps my face, so that I’m staring right into his shit-eating grin.

  I wasn’t lying. I can’t fucking stand him.

  “Asshole.”

  “Biker bitch.”

  He crushes his lips against mine and every last thread of resistance snaps. He weaves his fingers through my hair and yanks hard so that I moan in pain. This man is not fucking capable of being gentle, but that’s fine.

  I like it when he’s rough.

  Fingers claw at my dirty clothes, ripping them from my head. He’s like a fucking animal—the way he treats my body. So rough and violent, but that’s probably all he knows. My bra straps dig into my shoulders as he yanks hard and then hurls the bra away from him, the cold air stinging my nipples. His mouth finds my shoulder and he utters a subhuman growl, biting a vicious mark into my skin. Jesus. It burns, and then he releases me, kissing the next spot. He reaches my neck and I cringe, but there he proves that he can be gentle. Featherlight kisses touch the sore skin, but he grabs my jaw and lays his lips on my mouth, cruelly devouring them.

  My back hits the door of his bedroom and it slams open, banging against the wall. We’re not even in bed, and I’m already soaking my panties. It’s the way he treats me, like I’m his addiction and he can’t help but lose himself around me.

  Fuck me, you bastard.

  He grabs my hand and forces it over the hard rock between his legs. I wrap my fingers around his cock as he hovers an inch from my face.

  “You’re going to make my cock your full-time job from now on.”

  Laughter bursts from my mouth as he stands back. Is he a parody or what?

  “What did I tell you about laughing?”

  “You said you’d kick me out, but we both know that won’t happen.”

  He beckons with a finger. “Come here.”

  I roll my eyes and follow him as he drags an enormous box out of his closet. He crouches over it, blocking the contents from view as he takes this and that, shutting the box before I can catch a glimpse. He walks to the door first, and then he reaches up to the frame and slips some kind of material behind it. It shuts and two straps hang from the top. Then he walks back to me and picks up the Velcro handcuffs from the floor.

  Fuck. I see where this is going.

  “Give me your wrists.”

  The grittiness in his voice strikes a chord deep inside my body. Warmth floods to my skin as I give him my hands, and I feel as though I’m handing over my freedom at the same time. He wraps the Velcro straps over my wrists, his eyes flaying me alive as he tightens them with deliberate slowness.

  Then he slides his hands down my waist and the throbbing ache between my legs pounds like a heartbeat.

  “You’re going to have to learn to obey your future husband.”

  The smile playing on his lips makes me wonder if he’s fucking with me, but the more I get to know him and his bullshit adherence to tradition, the more I suspect he’s serious. Is there any harm in letting him think that he owns me?

  “I am.”

  “You’re not. You’re just doing what I say because you want my fat cock inside you.”

  Yeah.

  He takes my wrists and pushes me backward, until my back hits the door. Then he takes each wrist and anchors them securely to the hooks hanging from the top of the doorframe. They pull at my wrists, my arms stretched high above my head as Johnny trails his fingers down my neck and around my tits, his thumb playing with my hardened nipples.

  Holy fuck he feels amazing. Just a light graze of his fingers around that sensitive skin makes the air thinner. His body is inches from mine, the heat blazing but out of reach. I want his naked skin pressed against mine, but he lets me smolder. A smirk staggers over his face when I inhale a sharp breath as he takes my tits in his hands and squeezes.

  “I’m taking in what belongs to me. You have no idea how sexy you look like this.”

  Then he unbuttons my jeans, leaning in close enough to plant a chaste kiss on my shoulder. I want more of him. The zipper makes a mouthwatering sound, and then his hands slide underneath my jeans and panties with ease, following them all the way down my thighs and calves. The cool air hits my wet pussy as I step out of my clothes, and a blush creeps up my neck as Johnny stands back up, looking me up and down.

  “Your pussy seems to know who it belongs to already.” He lets out a chuckle that makes me steam. “Look at how fucking wet you are.”

  I know I am. I feel it running down my legs.

  “Just because I want you to fuck me doesn’t mean you own me.”

  A warm finger slides into my pussy and hooks into me. My heart slams hard against my chest as my walls constrict around his finger. Johnny approaches me with a shit-eating grin, digging his finger deeper.

  “I bet I can get you to tell me that I own your body within the next fifteen minutes.”

  A second finger slides into me as Johnny bends his head, his tongue darting out to catch my nipple at the same time. His fingers pulse inside my aching pussy as his mouth closes around my nipple and sucks hard. Oh God.

  I moan into the simmering air and I’m already halfway to saying whatever the hell he wants, so long as he fucks me.

  Then a third squeezes in, stretching my walls as he takes my tits in his cavernous mouth, sucking and licking. He bites down and sucks—leaving marks everywhere just to prove that I’m his fucking property. I don’t fucking care because it feels so damn good. He turns me around, fingers still inside me, so that my arms crisscross. His palm strokes one of my ass cheeks.

  I know what’s coming.

  SMACK!

  At the same time, he pumps his fingers inside me so that sharp blows of pain punctuat
e the ecstasy. I arch my back, my chest against the door. The burn spreads across both cheeks and he curves his fingers into me until my breathing is high-pitched, until I am on the cusp of an orgasm.

  Then he slides his fingers out.

  He slides them out.

  “What are you doing?”

  Another harsh slap makes me end the sentence in a yelp.

  “Don’t fucking talk. Just obey.”

  Yeah, whatever.

  He turns me back around and holds his fingers in front of my face.

  “Open your mouth and suck every last drop.”

  I shouldn’t want to. It’s dirty. It’s wrong, but Johnny makes me want everything that I thought was demeaning. His fingers slide inside my mouth and I suck myself from his fingers. Shame burns my cheeks.

  “Good girl.”

  He slides out of my mouth and my heart jumps at the smile on his face. “Please, Johnny. I want you now.”

  “It’s so much fun seeing you worked up like this, begging for my cock.”

  Suddenly his hand burrows in my hair painfully and he yanks my head to the side, crushing his lips against mine and forcing his tongue through. He tastes me and pulls back, sucking my lips.

  A growl rumbles from the back of his throat as he wraps his arms around my legs and hoists me up so that my legs straddle his waist, where I can see the thick bump of his cock.

  “Do you honestly think you’d ever find someone you’d want more than me? Who can fuck you better than I can?”

  Christ, I don’t know. I grew up in the fortress, dreaming of a life outside. I must have watched Cinderella a million times, wishing I could have my own Prince Charming to whisk me away from that hellhole. I never would have thought I would’ve ended up with a man not so different from the ones I grew up around. Johnny’s gorgeous. He makes my heart flutter with his slick smile, but he’s such an asshole. He’s no Prince Charming, that’s for sure.

  I never thought a man like him would make me feel so good, especially one who likes ordering me around. No, I don’t think I’d ever find someone so disarming—someone who makes me wet with his very presence. I rebelled against men like him all my life. How the fuck did this happen to me?

  “No.”

  His smirk disappears for a moment as he lets me down and takes the shirt off his back, revealing a map of tattooed, lean muscle. There’s a flag of Sicily, St. Joseph on his shoulder, and a bunch of other religious shit I don’t recognize, and a cross with the word Sempre around it. Red, white, and green. He’s a proud Italian, through and through.

  My eyes linger on the huge bump right under his waist, straining against his slacks, but he makes no move to pull them down. I can visualize it in my head, see the fabric pulling down his waist and over that thick cock, beading with a gossamer strand of pre-cum.

  “Please.”

  “Fuck.”

  I can see the fight behind his eyes as he reaches out and touches my breast. He wants me to grovel at his feet, but he wants to fuck me more than that.

  I own you.

  Still smiling, he bends toward the floor and picks up something metallic with a long wire and a clicker attached to the end. He puts the round metal object against my pussy and clicks.

  A buzzing sound fills my ears as the metal egg vibrates against my clit, sending electrical shocks deep inside my pussy. Holy Christ, I’ve never felt anything like this.

  “Oh—oh my God!”

  “I’m not a god,” he grins.

  It’s torture to feel that hard egg buzzing against my clit, slipping slightly as he massages me. His tongue drags a circle around my nipples and the shocks make me arch my back into him.

  “Please, for fuck’s sake!”

  I thrash in the handcuffs he has me in, but his arm wraps around my waist, holding me still. “Say that you’ll marry me.”

  Jesus.

  The egg pushes through my folds and slips inside. His fingers curve on the back of it as he shoves it in deep, massaging my clit against the vibrating waves. I can’t fucking hold out much longer. With every throb of my heartbeat, I imagine his dick shoved inside me, rutting me hard.

  “Say it.”

  I don’t have a choice.

  “Fine.”

  “No, that’s not fine. I want to hear you—”

  “Yes, I’ll fucking marry you!”

  Like I have a goddamn choice at this point, pinned against the wall with a vibrator jammed against my pussy. God, I can’t stand him.

  His thumb pinches my clit and the vibrator electrifies me at the same time, sending me careening over the edge.

  “JUST FUCK ME!”

  My legs tremble as he finally throws the vibrator aside and pulls his pants down, releasing his cock. I barely get a look at his throbbing length before he picks me up. The head slides inside me swiftly, painful and deep. It knocks the breath out of my chest as he slams his hips against me.

  “You’re mine. Say it.”

  He shoves his cock balls deep. It’s buried to the hilt and I can barely breathe with him pulsing inside me, my legs wrapped around his waist. I don’t find that I give a shit about admitting that yes, I’m his, especially when he’s looking right into my eyes as he’s inside me.

  “I’m yours.”

  Then he pounds my hips, his cock thrusting inside me, filling me completely as I twist my wrists in the straps. He bites down on my tits and I scream to the ceiling, unable to take the stimulation from his dick and his mouth. I got so worked up from that vibrator that I feel myself teetering on the edge, and I want to hold on to his shoulders and ride his cock.

  “Moan for me.”

  I clutch the straps yanking on my wrists as he slams into me. His left hand lets me go briefly to get in a vicious slap on my ass. My legs tighten and I squeeze, my tits rubbing against his face.

  “Johnny!”

  I moan out his name as I come all over his dick, and he sucks in his breath and pounds me faster, yanking my waist into his. Then he buries his face in my neck and groans out loud, releasing a torrent of cum inside my pussy. Holy fuck, it’s so warm. His chest pulses rapidly as he blows air across my neck, kissing my skin between breaths. I sag against my restraints as he slowly lets me down and unhooks my handcuffs from the straps on the door, and I wrap both arms around him as he lifts me up and carries me to bed.

  We both collapse on the mattress, exhausted, my body still glowing with the orgasm. He gathers me in his arms and drags me into his chest with surprising strength, as if I’m a rag doll.

  “I told you I’d get you to say it.”

  I’m too tired to muster up the energy to hate him.

  Johnny’s warmth leaves my side for a second, and when he returns he slides his arms back around me. I feel safe, just content to close my eyes and feel his heartbeat against my back, his low voice rumbling through my body.

  Then he takes my hand and I see the diamond ring between his fingertips. I bite my lip as he slides it down my finger, the glow bursting like a needle to a balloon.

  He wants me for sex, nothing else. Or his pride. That wouldn’t be too bad, except for the fact that I have a baby inside me. I’m supposed to marry this guy and have his kid, even though I barely know him. I’m not sure I even like him. He’s a mob boss, for fuck’s sake.

  I turn around in his arms, cradling my hand with the new ring. Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen his bad side, but I’m just not scared of him.

  “What is this between us?”

  “You’re my fiancée.”

  His voice sounds so dead and I feel as though I’m shrinking. There’s no connection between us, is there?

  What makes you think that he’ll even be a good father?

  My chest freezes as he plants a kiss on my stunned face, rubbing my back as if to soothe me. He’s very good at imitating acts of affection, but without the warmth it feels so empty. There’s passion in his eyes, but it’s not for me—it’s for the baby.

  “I don’t know you.”

 
; He makes a sound through his nose and sinks into the pillow. “You never get to know someone.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Everybody has something to hide.” A dark shadow crosses his eyes like a storm. “Like you.”

  “Like me?”

  A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You didn’t tell me you were his daughter. You could have if you wanted to, but you didn’t.”

  “Then you wouldn’t have fucked me.”

  “Wrong.”

  Strong hands reach around my head and pull me closer so that his breath billows over my lips.

  “I was fucked the moment I saw you. Nothing in the world would have stopped me from chasing you.”

  It’s the perfect thing to say, even if it’s a lie.

  His lips fall against mine, softer than they’ve ever felt before, and then I’m not so sure.

  I don’t care. I need to be able to hope.

  JOHNNY

  She pretends to sleep as I get dressed, even as I sit next to her head, admiring the view of the sheets only partially obscuring her gorgeous tits. The more I look at the rather perfect image of her soft brown hair splayed over her cheek, fluttering with every breath and the swell of her milky breasts, the more I feel my cock getting stiff. I already fucked her this morning, and goddamn it, I want her again.

  I grab the edge of the sheets and drag them over her shoulders, pretending that I don’t know she’s faking it, and then I give her a kiss on the cheek. Guilt stirs inside me for the things I said last night that I didn’t mean. I whispered sweet things that she needed to hear from me, that women like to hear, but I feel nothing but a burning desire for that pussy and a need to protect what’s mine.

  My fiancée.

  My baby.

  It’s hard to feel close to them yet. I feel proud, as though I’m finally a whole man, with a fiancée and a baby on the way. It’s what I always wanted, but she’s going to want more. That’s why I do these little gestures—covering her while she “sleeps” and telling her that I’m crazy about her. If it makes her a happy wife, what’s the harm in it?

  I stand up from the bed and start walking toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” she calls out after me, as clear as day without a trace of sleepiness in her voice.