by Ada Stone
Dangerous, I thought, licking my lips. He’s the kind of dangerous I was looking for tonight.
“Keep going,” he commanded when he’d noticed that I’d stopped to watch him. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be out of these clothes, too.”
The promise sent a shiver of want through me and I did as he said, continuing to remove my clothes. I idly wondered if half the reason he wanted me to take my own clothes off had anything to do with how tight my jeans were. They were damn near a second skin and I had to wiggle them down my thighs. He watched me for a while as I did so; I could feel his eyes on me. Then I heard him command, “Stop.”
I looked up at him in surprise. “But I thought you wanted me to.”
He grinned at me. He’d gotten his belt off and his pants were undone. I saw dark curls showing beneath the leather, telling me he probably wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Oh, I do. Definitely. I just want you to turn around so I can see that lovely ass of yours while you bend over.”
I flushed again, but eagerly did as he bid all the same. I turned away from him then began to slide my pants the rest of the way down. I wiggled my ass deliberately as I did so, giving him a nice view. I was grateful that my panties were a thong, the lace little more than a triangle above my cheeks where it disappeared between them.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, encouraging me to keep going. “I wanna see your whole beautiful body.”
When I finally stepped out of my pants, I was startled to feel his hands snake around my hips and dip into the front of my panties. I let out a moan when I felt his thick fingers slide between the moist lips of my nether region, turned on beyond belief and in some desperate need of the attentions he was giving me.
“I love how wet you are. I could feel it soaked through your panties, how much you need this,” he murmured in my ear. He pressed himself against me from behind and I realized instantly that he’d finished taking off his pants and that he was hard as a rock. His bare cock slid along my backside, telling me that he was definitely big.
“I do need this,” I answered him, my voice coming close to a begging sound. I didn’t care. I did need this. More than anything in that moment.
“Good,” he told me as he inserted one thick finger between my folds, searching out my core.
I made a gasping sound as his finger entered me. I was even more grateful for those large hands than I had been before, his fingers opening my folds like a flower as he pushed in deeper.
“Mm, warm and wet. Do you want me to taste you first? Or should I just drive my cock home?”
My whole body shivered and I wondered which I’d want more, his tongue or his cock. I decided quickly as he added a second finger. “Let’s see if your mouth does more than talk,” I challenged.
He pulled his fingers away, much to my disappointment, but I wasn’t disappointed for long. He swiveled me around to face him, then jerked my panties down my legs quickly. With one hard shove, he thrust me back onto the bed, causing me to bounce slightly with the sudden fall. A laugh started in my throat, but died on my lips when I caught sight of his large, throbbing manhood.
“Oh god,” I whispered, my eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. “You’re huge.”
He smiled cockily at me and now I knew why. He had every right to be confident. His body was scored like rock, the muscles carved as though from stone. His hair was dark as night and thick, his eyes were deep dark pools of desire. And his cock was bigger than anything I’d had yet.
“Not scared, are you, baby?” he asked as he came towards me.
I gave a quick shake of my head.
“You sure?” he questioned, his tone teasing as he settled himself between my legs. Except he was throwing one leg over either of his shoulders and holding my thighs with his hands. “You sure you still want this?”
“Please,” I said, and this time I was definitely begging. “I don’t just want this, I need this.”
“Good. Right answer,” he told me, then he jerked my hips up so that my ass was off the bed and pressed his face between my legs. “Because I have every intention of making you scream tonight.”
Then he licked me.
His tongue slid across my already slick folds, making me let out a quick cry. I felt him smile against my lips as he kissed me there. He began to tongue me like we were making out, his lips sealed against mine, his tongue slipped between their folds and delving into my core. I was gasping in wonton pleasure, my hands gripping the sheets on either side of me as I let the pleasure roll over me. It was building quickly as he dipped in and out of me, his tongue skillful and quick, but also thorough. I felt him against my inner walls and lapping at my lips when he pulled out. He tongue fucked me better than anyone else ever had and it made my desire bubble up until I knew it would overflow.
“Oh god,” I called out, my voice rising in volume as I felt a thumb join in on the action. “Oh god, please!”
He began to rub my clit, lazily at first, then with growing urgency. He found a speed that both thumb and tongue matched, each one pushing me closer and closer to my own undoing. Then he paused.
Wild-eyed, I sat up and looked at him. I couldn’t believe he had stopped! I was so close, I was throbbing with need, quivering with desire and the end was right there in sight. All he had to do was press his face between my thighs again. It would probably only take one, maybe two more strokes before I unwound like a yo-yo.
“Don’t stop!” I cried.
He grinned at me, his lips moist. “Luke,” he told me, his eyes flashing.
I frowned. “What?”
“When you scream, when I make you come and you scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear, I want you to be screaming out my name. Luke.”
And before I could say anything more, or worry about the possibility that the neighbors might actually hear us, he pushed his face back down between my legs. His tongue made its way back between my lips and I felt his thumb flicking at my small bundle of nerves. I groaned. My hands went to his hair this time, holding him there, keeping him for fear that he might stop again.
His hair was just as thick and silky as I imagined, the texture wonderful in my hands. As his mouth and hands worked on me, I felt my pleasure build up again. It was driving me crazy, driving me mad until I thought I would lose my damn mind. Then it broke.
“Luke!” I screamed as wave after wave of desire washed over me like a flood. I felt him there still, lapping a couple of times, then he was gone. I was still reeling, lost in my release when he settled himself once again between my legs, this time his hips angling towards mine.
I was just barely starting to come back to myself when I felt his bulbous head sliding along opening. My eyes popped open and I saw my sexy Road Rose, Luke, leaning over me, his hands holding my knees open wide and his cock just barely nestled between my still wet lips.
“Hold on, baby,” he told me, gritting his teeth. “The night’s not over yet.”
He plunged inside me in one swift thrust, filling me up until there was no more room inside of me. I screamed again, his name like a prayer and a curse on my lips.
“Oh, fuck!” he yelled when he was fully sheathed within my hot core, his length pulsing against my stretched walls. “You’re so goddamned tight, baby. Do you feel how deep I am inside you?”
Did I ever! “Yes,” I told him, breathless. “I don’t think there’s any more room.”
He groaned. “Good.” Then he started moving. He pulled out of me slowly until the head of him slipped out. I felt the loss and wriggled my body in an effort to bring him back. He grinned cheekily down at me, but he obliged. I felt his head at my entrance once more, then he was spreading my lips open and sliding into me once again.
“Fuck,” he said when he once more bottomed out inside me. “God, you’re tight. And hot.”
He began to find a rhythm to his thrusts, at first slow. He would pull out of me carefully so that I felt each inch as it slipped out from between my lips and the first few times he’d pulled the head o
ut, too. It would slip from me coated in my own wetness, then he’d press it back between my lips and fill me again. Over and over he did this, until finally he began to increase his speed. When he did that, he’d leave just the head in so that he could thrust faster into my waiting core.
“I knew you’d have a pretty pussy,” he panted above me, his large hands gripping my hips so hard that I was pretty sure there would be bruises tomorrow. I didn’t care. “I didn’t know it’d be this tight though. This slick. Fuck, tell me you want me.”
I obliged easily. “I want you, Luke. I saw you across the bar tonight, felt your gaze raking over me, like you were undressing me with your eyes—”
“I was,” he interjected as his hips crashed against mine.
“—and I knew I had to have you. I wanted you buried inside me.” I gasped as he continued to thrust into my waiting body.
“Buried in your pussy?” he questioned between thrusts.
“Yes, buried in my pussy,” I answered, flushing a deeper shade of crimson than I already was at saying pussy to him like this. It was dirty and it made me hotter.
“Like this?” he asked me just as the pushed himself all the way in, filling me up until there was no more room left.
I cried out and said, “Yes! Yes, just like that!”
He continued to plunge inside me over and over again, his pacing seeming to increase with each thrust. As he moved within me, building himself towards his own release and what was starting to seem like my second, his hands left my hips. They traveled up my midsection and further, caressing my flesh with his calloused, rough hands until he reached the underside of my breasts. He slid up them slowly, then began to cup them, steadying them as he thrust into me. He squeezed at them and I groaned, letting him know that I liked it, that I liked his hands on me. He pinched at my nipples and rolled them between his fingers.
I covered his hands with mine, encouraging their touch. “I love your hands,” I murmured, and he hummed appreciatively in response.
His pace continued to increase until I thought I might go crazy from it. He filled me up so completely, so perfectly, that I was beginning to think that our two bodies were just made for one another.
He pressed into me and murmured how beautiful I was, how good I felt wrapped around him. He told me that he loved my tits and that I was exactly what he’d needed tonight.
Which was one hundred percent what I’d been thinking, too.
His thrusts grew erratic and he groaned. “God, baby, I’m coming!” He pressed his hips against mine, pushing himself as deep inside me as he could. I felt him pulse and twitch as he released himself into my waiting core, filling me to the brim.
I held him tightly, helping him to ride out his orgasm. He collapsed beside me, rolling off of me so that he wouldn’t crush me with his weight. I cuddled up to him, not sure if he was into that sort of thing after sex, and laid my head against his shoulder. He didn’t protest. In fact, he wrapped a muscular arm around me, pulling me closer.
I didn’t mistake this tender gesture as love or anything else like that, but it felt nice in the moment and it was a nice way to end our pleasurable encounter. I fell asleep like that.
…
The next day, I was awoken by streams of sunlight filtering in through the pool house window. I was tangled up in the bed sheets and I was most decidedly alone. I paused a moment to make sure, listening for any telltale signs of someone showering or in the kitchen. Nothing.
Sitting up revealed that I was most definitely sore in the best possible way. I smiled at the memory of my hot sexual encounter. I was a little miffed that he hadn’t stayed until morning, but then it wasn’t like I’d been intending to make him breakfast or anything. That was the whole point. I’d wanted someone who wasn’t looking for a girl to settle down with. Not a woman who was going to make him breakfast in the morning or clean his house or carry his children. Just someone to work out his frustrations on.
It suited me into the ground, and though I would have liked him to have been there this morning—if only for a wonderful round two—I wasn’t upset really that he wasn’t. I’d gotten what I wanted and I could only imagine that he had too.
I got out of bed and padded into the bathroom to get cleaned up. The bathroom was thankfully stocked, set up to accommodate anyone who might be a guest here. I brushed my teeth, then started the shower. As I got in, stepping under the spray and immediately getting my hair wet, I began to wonder if I’d made enough noise to get my father’s attention. On the one hand, that had kind of been the whole point. What was a night of rebellion if no one knew about it? On the other hand, it was worth noting that I’d have a lot less to deal with if he didn’t know about it.
I wasn’t sure which I wanted more, but decided quickly that either one would be alright with me.
I washed my hair thoroughly and scrubbed my body clean. I didn’t want to smell like that bar, and smelling like sexy probably wasn’t any better. When I was clean, I got out and went to the closet to see if I’d left anything to wear lying around. I did not want to wear my things from last night. What was the point of a shower if you were just going to throw on something dirty right after?
I checked the closet and found that it had a few towels, a robe, and some bathing suits that I was pretty sure I hadn’t worn since high school. I chose a bathing suit, because if my dad happened to catch me—like he was going to be around—I could explain away my being outside and my wet hair in one fell swoop. The bikini was a little small—definitely from high school. But it didn’t matter. Dad wouldn’t even notice.
Not that he’s going to be paying me any attention, I thought sullenly.
My wild night had been everything I’d wanted and more, but it didn’t change facts. Dad was still ruler of the house and I had no means of getting out. Top that off with the fight and the fact that he had a nasty habit of ignoring me for a few days after having a fight with me, it was still a miserable world I lived in.
“And on that happy note…” I muttered to myself.
I headed into the house, fully expecting to find my dad sitting at the kitchen table sipping at coffee and leaving his whole wheat toast and egg whites untouched. But the place was empty. I frowned, then found a note tapped to the fridge.
It was from the maid and it informed me that she was out grocery shopping, but would be back around ten. It was only seven, and that meant that the house was completely empty.
“I hate this place.”
Chapter Five
Luke
Two Months Later
I was sitting in the back of Wicked Rose, staring down at the stack of papers that had been served to me earlier in the week. It was a lot of legal jargon that went on for seemingly miles, but in the end the gist was pretty basic: cease and desist all operations.
Now, that was clearly targeted towards the legal business of the Wicked Rose. But, since it was pushed through by my dear old friend the mayor, I knew that he didn’t just mean the tattoo shop. No, he meant he wanted everything that had to do with me and the Roses the hell out of his town. The Roses were a legal club, technically. We had all the paperwork in order and the law couldn’t touch us in that respect. But if they ever caught us doing some of the more risqué things around town, well, that would be another story entirely.
All of it was a little ridiculous in my eyes. How could you call us the drug problem in town when the doctors were force-feeding prescriptions to anyone and everyone old enough to have them? Legal heroine, if you asked me, though of course no one did.
And that wasn’t to say that some of my boys didn’t do a little dealing now and again. A guy had to make a living, but I didn’t require it, even if I didn’t necessarily discourage it. We made money because my boys did the jobs that no one else wanted to do. If they weren’t selling, someone else would be. I wouldn’t fault them for being enterprising, even if I didn’t partake in the drug culture myself. I’d seen enough of it over the last decade to know that I had little i
nterest in it.
But none of that mattered to the mayor. In fact, I could be squeaky clean and the mayor would still be riding my ass about something until he could find a legitimate reason to shut me down and kick me out of his town.
No way to deal with lingering frustrations and hurt, I thought mildly, tossing the papers to the side.
He might claim it was an election year that was forcing his hand. Might say it was the main reason that he was cracking down on lawbreakers and those who bring lawbreakers into his town, but I knew the truth. My mother had broken his heart and now he was going to spend the rest of his life taking that out on me.
It was petty, in my humble opinion, for what little that was worth.
I sighed, leaning my chair back farther. Up front, I could hear the buzzing of tattoo needles and the soft conversational voices that told me there was probably a customer in there, negotiating times and images and whatever else.