I swallow thickly and try to speak. Why is he here? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I gave him everything. Maybe he wants more? Maybe my debt isn’t completely paid. My eyes widen. I shouldn’t be so turned on by that thought. I should be scared shitless and part of me is. But another part of me wants him to fuck me against this wall and have him leave me with the warning that he’ll be back to collect again tomorrow. I must be fucking sick in the head.
“May I come in Rebecca?” His smooth baritone voice drips with sex appeal. My core heats instantly. I can’t speak, I don’t trust my voice so I just nod and open the door wider. As his tall, broad frame passes me I seem to snap out of my lust filled haze. What the fuck did I just do? I should’ve said no!
I start shaking my head as though this isn’t real. He turns around in my living room to face me. I paid a designer to make this room look like it belonged on a page of Good Housekeeping. All cream, plush cushions and dark antique finishings. He doesn’t belong here. He stands out amongst all the clean white lines. He may be in a trim fitting 3-piece suit, but he doesn’t fool me. He’s bad. His hair is messy and rugged. His hands are calloused and scarred. His smirk is cocky and sexy-as-fuck. It’s like he was placed in this room by accident.
Looking around the room, to avoid his piercing gaze, I spot a family picture on the wall and I’m reminded of how tainted it is by my husband – ex husband – deceased husband. Fuck. Tears well in my eyes. I can’t fucking handle this. I rub my temples. I just want to get whatever this is over with. I shut the door and follow him into the entry of the living room. I should offer him tea or a drink. My parents raised me right. But fuck that. He’s a criminal. I run my hands through my hair as anxiety consumes me.
“Can I help you?” I’m barely able to get the words out.
A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. He grins showing off his perfect white teeth. “I think you can, Rebecca.” His smile falters a bit before he asks, “are you going by Bartley now or Harrison?”
I need to shut this shit down. I don’t need someone barging through my life and walking all over me. I’ll give him whatever he wants to just get the fuck out. I should’ve known he’d be back for the interest. For actual money.
A blush travels from my chest to my cheeks. I shouldn’t have been so stupid to think that he’d be satisfied humiliating me like he did. My heart clenches. Was it really humiliating? I shake the thought away. I’m sure he intended it to be. Why else would he be here smirking at me like he owns me. Fucking asshole. I clench my fists and push out the words, “how much is it that I owe you?” I have a few grand in the safe in the bedroom. I fucking hope it’s enough. I thought all this was behind me. I told Sarah to never speak of it again and I fucking moved on. It was only awkward for the first few minutes. Thank fuck for Sarah; I need to give her a raise.
He smiles with that boyish charm that I’m sure he’s used on more than a handful of women, “Doll, you don’t owe me. You never did.”
A lump forms in my throat making it hard to answer, “why are you here?” I barely breathe the question. The way his eyes narrow and he licks his lips. He’s looking at me like I’m his prey. Every bit of fear I had is replaced with pure desire. My core heats, my shoulders shudder under his lust-filled gaze. “I want you to go.” The words come out weak. But I need to say them.
He looks hurt for only a split second, I almost think I imagined it, but I didn’t. I saw it. He gives me a tight smile. “I came to,” he clears his throat and looks out of the large bay window for a moment. “I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets as his forehead pinches, as though he’s truly considering something. “I didn’t mean-”
“It’s fine.” My voice hitches on the end. I shake my head, turning my back to him to open the door for him. If he just came to apologize, then he can get the fuck out.
A small gasp escapes me as his hand covers mine and pushes the front door closed with a loud bang. The lock clicking in place with a menacing tick. My body jumps from the noise and then from his hard chest pushing against my back. His large frame closes me in, my breasts push against the front door. My heart races and I struggle to breathe as his hot breath tickles my neck. His lips barely touch my ear as he whispers, “you didn’t hear me doll, I wanna make it up to you.”
A wave of heat rips through my body as I close my eyes. The tips of my fingers tingle and my pussy clenches as his other hand gently grabs my hip and he pulls my ass into his hips. A strangled moan leaves my lips as I feel his hard dick push into my ass. I can feel the wetness between my thighs, preparing me for him. His hand reaches up my blouse and splays across my stomach. “I owe you, doll. Let me make it up to you.” His hand over mine gently travels down my wrist, down my arm, down my side. A shiver runs through my body as he kisses the crook of my neck.
My breath hitches and the word is on my lips. Stop. But I don’t say it. I lean my back into his hard, hot body. I rock against him. What the fuck is wrong with me. He wraps his hand around my throat. I love the possession. He could break me. He could crush me. He could take me like he did yesterday. And I want it. Fuck, I want it so bad.
This is so wrong. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t feel like I need him. I shouldn’t feel so empty and hollow, needing to be filled. I bite my bottom lip, warring with myself. It was so good. Fuck, it was so fucking good before. I can only imagine how good it would be now.
My head falls back against his chest and my lips part as a breathy moan fills the hot air. A dark, masculine chuckle leaves his lips and tickles my neck. It sends an urgent need to my throbbing clit. He nips my earlobe and then pulls it with his teeth.
“You want me, doll?” His question lingers in the hot air. I can’t. I can’t want this. But I can’t say no. I close my eyes and shake my head. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes. I shove my back against his hard chest. He doesn’t move. He’s too strong.
“Yes you do; I know you do.” His voice is hard and unmoving, like his muscular body caging me in.
I do. I want it so fucking bad. But I push against him again and turn around in his grasp. I yelp as his hand grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head. His erection digs into my stomach as his hips keep me pinned to the door. He leans into my neck and hisses, “I hate liars.”
My eyes close tight and I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t explain it. I can’t do this. No matter how much my body begs me for it. My lips find his neck, but instead of kissing him, I bite. HARD. I sink my teeth deep into his flesh to hurt him. I don’t know why. I don’t want to fight him. But a sick part of me does.
“Fuck!” He yells out and pulls his upper body away while his hips stay pinned to mine and his hand tightens on my wrist. His dick jumps from my attack. My eyes stare at his neck. That’s gonna leave a bruise. There’s no blood. Good. I don’t want to really hurt him, just …
His hand not holding my wrists touches his neck in disbelief. My breathing comes in sharp pants as his eyes widen. I expect him to hit me. To slap me across the face. My cheek would sting with a violent red mark. I want him to pin me down on the ground, my knees burning as they scrape against the carpet while I struggle beneath him. I want him to rip my pants down and tear my panties off. I want him to fuck me. To punish me and treat me like he owns my body. I scissor my thighs, searching for relief for the heated need my fantasy left me in.
But I won’t admit I want it; because it’s wrong.
I swallow thickly as his eyes darken and narrow. They travel my body with dark desire as he contemplates what to do with me. I’m paralyzed with a deadly mixture of lust and fear. His hand tightens on my wrist while the other wraps around my throat. He squeezes just before the point of too much. It’s not a struggle to breathe, but I’m pinned to the door. Completely at his mercy. He holds my body still while he leans in. “You wanna fight me, doll?”
I press my lips into a hard line and struggle in his grasp. My body twists and writhes but it’s no use. He hu
ffs a humorless laugh. “All you had to do was tell me,” he leans in closer and bites down hard on my neck, making me scream out. The painful pinch of his bite intensifies the throbbing need burning in my core. He whispers in my ear, “say red.”
I still with confusion. Red?
“Say red and it all stops. Do you understand?” My eyes widen as I realize what he’s saying.
“Yes.” The word comes out easy in absolute submission. Hope and lust stir in my blood.
“Say it.” His words are hard and short.
“Red.” It whips from my mouth.
His hand loosens on my throat, “good girl, now fight me like you want to.” In a flash, he turns my body and pushes me hard against the door. His left hand keeps my wrists pinned while his other rips my pants down my thighs; the fabric burns across my skin as he forces them down. I think to scream but I don’t.
I don’t want to scream. I don’t want anyone to know.
His thick fingers tear the lace scrap covering my pussy and his fingers dip into my heat as I whimper. “You’re such a fucking slut. So wet for me. Wet for a dirty, hard fuck.” I hear his zipper and that’s when it hits me. Fuck! He’s not going to put on a condom. I start to open my mouth, but I don’t. I can’t ruin this. I buck my body against his and his grasp on my wrist slips. I hear him stumble back and I run for the living room.
My pants fall even farther down my legs and hinder my movements. I trip and scream out, but his corded arms wrap around my body and cushion my blow. He pins me down as I thrash under him. My fingers dig into the carpet. I try to move away but I can’t. I can’t get out from under him. I can’t turn around.
His blunt finger nails dig into the flesh of my hips, tilting me up and before I can move, before I can think of a way to fight him. He thrusts himself into me to the hilt.
“Fuck!” He yells out as I moan into the carpet.
I feel the sting of his massive size stretching my walls. I try to get up, but his strong hand splays across my back and pushes me down while his other keeps a firm grip on my hip and he pounds into me. Again and again. My body heats as the pleasure grows in my core. He ruts into me like a beast claiming his prey.
“Yes!” I scream into the floor.
He leans down, keeping up his relentless pace. “That’s right doll; you fucking love this. You love me fucking your tight, little cunt.” His dirty words send me over the edge. My body convulses under him as intense pleasure wracks through my body. My back tries to arch, but he keeps me pinned and he pounds into me without mercy. My walls pulse around him and he pushes deeper into me. I scream into the floor as waves and waves of hot cum fill me. I lay limp on the ground, loving the feeling of being used. Loving how he took everything he wanted from me.
My bliss is shattered as I hear a beep alert that I got a text message. Reality slaps me in the fucking face. I scramble underneath of him to get up. The word is there, ready to pounce, but he lets me up. I kick my pants off and dig in my purse in the front hall for my iPhone.
Running 5 mins late – sorry!
It’s a text from Sarah. I check the time. Shit! It’s almost six. My hand covers my mouth. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I didn’t get shit done. I drop the phone and grab my pants, searching frantically for my torn underwear he threw somewhere. Holy fuck. Sarah’s coming with Jax and his play date. I don’t even remember which kid it is that’s coming over. Holy hell, I’m a fucking mess.
“Are you okay?” I look up at the sex god standing in the middle of my living room. He just fucked me for a second time and I don’t even know his name. Tears form in my eyes as I shake my head. Slut. His word rings in my head as my throat closes and my chest hollows.
He wraps his arms around me, “it’s alright doll. It’s okay.”
He doesn’t understand. I push away from him. “You need to leave. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-” I can’t finish. I don’t know what to say to him.
He looks at me like I’ve slapped him. And I guess I may as well have. But what did he honestly expect. He came here to fuck me and he did. He won. It’s over. I open the front door and stay behind it so no one will see. I lower my gaze to the floor, “I can’t.”
“What the fuck?” My eyes reach his as he stands in front of me zipping up his pants and shaking his head. He walks with confidence towards me and I can tell he’s not going to leave.
“My son.” It’s all I say. It’s all I have to say. He stops a foot from me and looks me up and down. I want to ask him his name. I want to do much more than I can. More than I should. I have to take a deep breath and try to calm myself.
“I’ll go, but I want to see you again.” I do too. His words shock me. My lips part and I stand there speechless.
He picks up my phone off the table, “I’m putting my number in here. Dom.” He looks at me with a smirk. I feel my cheeks heat and I cringe. That’s so fucking embarrassing. I don’t even respond.
He puts the phone down, but then laughs and shakes his head. He picks it back up and smiles broadly at me. “Dirty Dom, since that’s the way you like it, doll.” He puts the phone back down and then walks to me. His hand cups my face and tilts it so I have to look at him.
He’s so relaxed, so at ease. I want to melt into him. I bite my lip to keep myself from caving to him.
He turns his cheek towards me and taps it with his finger.
I look at him like he’s fucking crazy. He wants me to kiss his cheek? “You don’t have all day Rebecca; your son will be here soon.” My eyes widen. I don’t want that. I have to stand on my tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek, but I do. I love the feel of his rough stubble under my soft lips.
“Good girl.” An asymmetric grin pulls his lips up.
“Becca.” I don’t know why, but I correct him. No one calls me Rebecca. Only my mother, when she was mad at me. When I disappointed her. I don’t want him calling me that. Shit, I’d rather he call me his dirty slut again than Rebecca.
“Becca,” he repeats to me. “I like that even better.” He mutters under his breath and then leaves. I watch as he gets into a silver car, without looking back at me. I quickly close the door and push my back against it. My mind replays everything that happened as my fingertips touch my lips.
What the fuck did I just do?
Dom
What the fuck just happened? I went there to smooth shit over and apologize. I start the ignition and run my hand through my hair. I lean back against the seat and take a look back at her house.
A two story single family home. Where the fuck is her picket fence?
Her door’s closed. She didn’t even wait to watch me leave. Probably has to clean up all the evidence that she was with me. For some reason that really fucking hurts. But then I remember that she’s got a little boy. And fuck that, I don’t want to be here and have to do all that shit. I just wanted to get laid. And I did. I pull out and snort at few of the houses that actually do have white picket fences.
But why does it feel so … wrong? It was hot as fuck. I’ve never had a woman who wanted to do that. To fight me like that. I groan, leaning my head back against the seat as I pull up to a red light. That was fucking hot. My fingers grace the skin of my neck. She fucking bit me. My Becca is one kinky bitch.
The cocky grin on my lips slips as I remember how she looked after. Not after I got done fucking her. She was gorgeous when she came on my dick. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she tried to fight her need to scream in pleasure. The memory makes me want to fuck her again. Right now. This broad keeps me wanting to go back for more. I shake my head not knowing quite how I feel about it all.
I feel a little used to be honest. I fucking enjoyed it, but damn, did she have to kick me out right fucking then. The after shocks were probably still racing through her body when she shut the damn door.
She should’ve at least taken me to dinner if she was gonna fuck me like that. I bark a laugh at my little joke.
Okay, okay. Now I know what I’m working with. If we’re gonna keep fucking I
know exactly where I stand with her. I’d be her dirty, little secret. Usually women brag about fucking me. There’s no way Becca will.
As I pull up to the house, my phone goes off. I look at the monitor on the dashboard and see it’s Vince. I park the car in the driveway, but leave it running.
“Yeah?” I ask him. I don’t really feel like fucking around. I want to get inside and look at my schedule. I gotta figure out when I’m hooking up with my doll again.
“We got a problem.” I don’t like his tone. My blood runs ice cold.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Detective Marshall took Jack in.” Hearing that name pisses me off. Jack’s ex threatened to go to him. You don’t threaten a mobster, even if he’s your husband. You sure as fuck don’t use names either. Cause that means you’ve already talked to him.
“What’s he got on him?” I ask.
“Nothing. But we all need to stay low.”
“Why’d he get picked up?” Marshall is always trying to hunt us down and pin anything he can on us. Every stupid thing used to get us taken in. Now they’re careful, since Pop’s threatened a lawsuit and the judge in his pocket is on our side.
“Expired license.” He’s gotta be shitting me.
“Are you fucking serious?” I practically yell.
“Yeah, just lay low Dom.” He answers with a pissed off tone. Jack should fucking know better.
“Not a problem.” My hands twist the steering wheel. I always lay low. I’m not out there like the rest of them.
“Yeah it is a problem.” My brows furrow. The fuck it is? “Don’t you remember what happened yesterday?”
Dirty Dom: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) Page 5