Break Me Down: Silver Tongued Devils Series Book 2

by Samantha Conley

  After lavishing attention on my breasts, making me achy, he shifts down to my stomach, his hands trailing against my sides. He rims my belly button with his tongue and his hands bunch in the fabric gathered at my waist. He backs toward the end of the bed until his knees are on the floor. Reaching up to my waist, he gathers the camisole and my panties in his hands and slowly pulls them down my legs, then places his hands on the insides of my thighs and pushes them farther apart. His hands rest on top of my thighs, gliding his thumbs on the outside of my lips and parting them to expose all of me to him. Leaning forward, he slides his tongue from my opening to my clit in long strokes. He lifts my right leg up and bends it until my heel rests next to my ass. One hand goes to the top of my mound to hold me open and two fingers from the other sink deep inside. His tongue focuses on my clit, while his fingers move in and out. He builds me up so fast, before I realize it, stars explode behind my eyelids as ecstasy flies through my body.

  Gently placing a kiss on my inner thigh, he stands up and pushes his jeans down past his hips. As soon as his dick is released, I’m mesmerized. It’s long, and so thick, I don’t know if I can even wrap my hand all the way around it. He steps out of his jeans and stands there with his legs slightly parted. Wrapping his large hand around the base, he strokes deliberately up to the glistening tip.

  “Scoot up the bed, Mallory.”

  Desperately, I try to find purchase, but when I don’t move quick enough, Jason wraps his arms around my torso and does the job for me. Shackling my wrists in one hand, he positions my arms above my head and grips my thigh, raising it to wrap around his hip. I feel the tip of him at my opening and can’t wait to feel him push inside me. He moves the head, coating it with my juices.

  “Are you ready?”

  Biting my lip, I nod. With one stroke, he buries himself to the hilt. Pleasure and pain hit me full force as I gasp. He stills to let me adjust. Tentatively lifting my hips toward his, he takes it as a sign, pulls back, and slides forcefully back in. His arm slides beneath my hip, keeping me closer to him, the top of his pubic bone hitting my clit, igniting little sparks as my body builds back up, winding me higher and higher with each thrust. Releasing my wrists, he wraps his hand in my hair.

  “Come for me. Now.”

  And with a tug on my hair, I explode into a million pieces. “Jason! Oh, God!”

  I’m barely aware as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, until he shudders above me, breathing out my name.

  Breaking out of the fantasy, I pray I didn’t just scream his name out into the room. Lying there, catching my breath, I can’t remember the last time I came so hard, much less by myself. Placing the toy on the bedside table, I pick up the glass of wine and take a sip. That is the best purchase I’ve made in a long time. Pulling up the covers, sleep claims me quickly, dreams fast on my heels—dreams of Jason.

  Jason

  Walking out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, a slight buzzing sound permeates the space, but I can’t determine where it’s coming from. The towel drops to the floor and I reach into my dresser for a pair of shorts as a small, soft moan breaks the silence, so soft, at first, I’m afraid I’m imagining things. Shaking my head, I pull on my shorts, climb into bed, and settle against the headboard, remote in hand. Another moan breaks through the silence, and I look around, concentrating, before getting to my knees and placing my ear against the wall.

  My eyes go wide and my dick pulses as Mallory’s breathy pant releases into the air and the buzzing continues. My dick continues to throb as I back away from the wall and settle back onto the bed, battling over giving her privacy or taking care of my own problem. I stare down, watching my cock jerk back toward me, and groan. The right thing to do would be to turn the TV on and drown out the noise, but fuck if my hand doesn’t grip my cock through my shorts instead. Mallory releases a small mewl and I squeeze before reaching into the fabric, my hand meeting my hot length.

  The fantasies that have plagued me day in and day out manifest once more as her sexy little noises increase. My hand glides up and down my shaft, my balls tingling with each stroke.

  She sits astride my lap, her face flushed as she reaches for my dick. Her eyes are dilated and her breathing is shallow. She eases up, lining the head of my dick with her pussy. Gripping her hips, she slowly lowers herself, inch by inch, until there isn’t any space between us. The warmth of her pussy pulses around me, and I close my eyes, concentrating on the feel of me filling her to capacity. A groan slips from my lips. She’s so fucking tight and hot. It feels so fucking good.

  With an experimental wiggle of her hips, she starts to lift onto her knees. Gripping her hips tighter, controlling her speed, I raise her up and slam her back down, savoring the gasp that leaves her lips. Up and down, up and down, I relish in the tightening of her pussy. Her moans grow louder, and I lean up, tugging her tight nipple into my mouth. My hand moves from her hip to wrap up in her silky soft hair as my release builds, tingling at the base of my spine. Pulling her head back, she arches her neck. Softly biting her nipple, she clenches around me.

  “Jason! Oh God!”

  Letting go, I fill her up in long, hot spurts as she continues to contract around me.

  Coming back to the present, cum cooling on my abs, my chest heaves with the steady pounding of my heart. I take in my surroundings, listening, but only silence comes from her side of the wall. Getting up, I move to clean up the mess, knowing when my eyes close tonight I’ll still dream of her.

  After last night and the intensity of the moment, I text Isaac and Derek to see if they want to hit the sports bar up the road to watch the game and drink some beers. Just the fact that I’m still thinking about it makes me realize a little space from Mallory will do me some good.

  Jesus, did I really hear her call out my name, or was it just my imagination? Damn it, Jason, she’s just a friend. Remember that.

  The guys hit me back, agreeing to meet up before the first game of the day. That gives me about two hours to kill before then. Usually, Sunday is my rest and cheat day, but I need to work off some of the excess energy. One would think I’d be well rested, but hell no. I woke up with a hard-on from hell and her name on my lips. And the fact of the matter is I don’t need to be thinking about her that way—not after what she’s been through. She needs time, space, and probably some freaking counseling before she’s ready to be with another guy.

  Throwing on some shorts and a t-shirt, I grab a change of clothes before heading out the door. By the time I meet the guys at the bar, after giving everything I had to the treadmill and weights, the sexual frustration has mellowed out. The place is already hopping, and it’s not even game time yet. Snagging a bar top, a cute blonde waitress saunters in my direction, hips swaying and a big grin gracing her face.

  “What can I get you, sugar?”

  “A Bud Light and an order of wings.”

  “Bottle or draft?”

  “Draft.”

  “How hot do you want your wings? A little heat, or scorch your tongue?”

  “Let’s try one of each.”

  “I knew you’d like things hot,” she says seductively, rolling her tongue over her bottom lip.

  “You better believe it.”

  “Some things need to be seen before they can be believed,” she says with a wink, and I laugh inwardly at the suggestion. “I’ll get your order in and be right back with your beer.” With a smirk, she walks away, adding a little extra swing in her hips, drawing attention to her ass. I can’t help but stare at the way the tight little black shorts clings to the curves.

  As soon as she sets my beer down, the guys walk up to the table. As they order a couple more beers, the poor waitress can’t decide which one of us to focus on. Her green eyes flit between us, apparent lust shining bright. With a gentle nudge, she moves along to get us our drinks.

  “So, what are y’all doing for Thanksgiving? Anything special?” I ask before taking a sip of my beer.

  “We always go to
my grandmother’s house, on the Calloway’s side of the family. We’ll hit mom’s side on Friday after they shop ‘til they drop. East of Dallas one day, west of Fort Worth the next,” Derek replies.

  “I’m flying out Tuesday to Seattle. We’re all meeting at my brother’s house this year. Since he got married, his wife wants to host her first Thanksgiving dinner. I hope to hell she knows what she’s getting into.” Isaac chuckles. “What about you, Jase?”

  “I’m heading down to Houston on Wednesday to spend it with my sister and niece. Been too long since I’ve seen them.”

  “When are you going to convince her to move closer to you?”

  “I keep asking, but she keeps turning me down. Since she works in a practice with other therapists, it’s a little easier on her with Emma.”

  We sit around shooting the breeze, drinking beers, eating crap, and watching football. By the last game, I’ve lost count of the girls who have dropped by the table—all types, shapes, and sizes, but every last one making it known they wouldn’t mind coming home with any of us. I can’t help but smile at some of the more outlandish invitations we get. Derek and Isaac are eating it up, but Mallory remains at forefront in my mind. Glancing up, our waitress is staring at me with lust in her gaze. Giving her another once over, she’s the exact opposite of Mallory. Maybe this is what I need to get her off my mind.

  As the last game winds down, the boys head out with their flavor of the night. Standing up, I throw some cash down on the table, and turn at the touch of a hand on my arm. The cute little waitress grins up at me, and I grin back before tucking her hand into the crook of my arm and heading out the door.

  “You done for the night?”

  “My friend said she’ll cover for me after closing. I’m all yours,” she replies with a flirtatious grin and a wink.

  It only takes a few minutes to get to her place, and I only feel the smallest amount of guilt as the door shuts behind us.

  Glancing at my watch, I pull my phone out and shoot Mallory a text, asking her when she wants to leave. She has a doctor’s appointment in a couple hours and I want to make sure she’s there in a manner of time that makes her comfortable.

  Grunts and groans reverberate around me and I pull my attention back to spotting Derrek, sweat beading along my hairline and down my back.

  “Who the hell are you texting?” he grits out as he lowers his set and lifts again.

  “What?” I ask, then shake my head. “Nobody. Just have an appointment later and was checking to make sure it was still on,” I reply, looking down at my phone again, wondering why she hasn’t replied. My mind immediately goes to something being wrong, but then I brush it off as her just getting ready.

  “You’ve been awfully distracted lately. You got something going on the side?” he asks, racking the weights.

  “Just a lot on my mind,” I deflect, hoping he gives up on the line of questioning. The last thing I want to do is lie, and so far, I’ve been able to avoid it. He gets too pushy, it will put me on the spot.

  “If you need to talk, my door is always open.” His eyes meet mine for a moment to show his sincerity before he towels off his face, and I breathe out a sigh, thankful he ended it with that.

  “Thanks man. I appreciate it. Time to hit the shower. I need to get out of here.”

  My fist barely bumps Mallory’s door before she swings it open, her ponytail swaying with the motion. I look down at her Cowboys jersey and smile, then nod toward the extra sneaker in her hand. “Ready to go?”

  She practically bounces with excitement, and I smile. “I’m ready to get this damn thing off my foot. If he doesn’t clear me, it’s coming off anyway.”

  She flounces by me, the scent of jasmine and vanilla following her trail. I inhale her scent, then shake my head, staving off the urge to bite and lick and taste every inch of her. It’s the last thing she needs, and I’m a jerk for even thinking of her that way.

  An eternity and a half later, Mallory makes her way back into the waiting room, sneakers on both feet and her walking boot in hand. I smile as her face beams.

  “I guess this means you’ve been turned loose.”

  “Yes, thank goodness. He gave me a support brace to wear, but I’ve been officially cleared. He did suggest I take it easy when I start working out again.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. What about therapy?” I ask as we start to walk out of the office.

  “He set me up with a physical therapist. I have my first appointment this afternoon. We have time to go pick up my car before I have to be there. That way you won’t have to cart me around anymore.”

  “I don’t mind, Mal. You know that.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it. But now it won’t have to cut into your social life.”

  The way she says it has me stopping and looking at her, but she just keeps on walking ahead of me, ponytail swishing across her back. Following behind her to the truck, I unlock the doors and she hoists herself right in, so I round over to my side. I fire up the ignition and sneak a glance as I back out, but she just stares out the window, an unreadable expression on her face. The entire trip to the dealership is silent, the radio the only noise filling the space. I pull into the best available spot and reach over, placing a hand on her arm before she can jump out of the truck.

  “Mal, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” she mumbles, eyes downcast.

  “Then why do I get the feeling you’re pissed off about something? Are you pissed at me?” I ask, drawing her attention to my eyes.

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “Of course not. I’m just...I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Nothing seems to be right. I don’t know how to explain it. But it’s nothing you’ve done. You’ve been a great friend, Jason. You’ll never know how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me. But I feel like I’ve been monopolizing all your time. You’ve practically had to babysit me and drive me around. Hopefully, once I have my car and can get around on my own, I’ll start to feel like I have more control. Control seems like something I haven’t had in a very long time.”

  “You’re strong, Mallory. Stronger than you know. And it’s all going to work out. You’ll be in control of your life. Well, as much as any normal person can be. And no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you, however you need me.”

  “Thanks, Jason. That means a lot.” Leaning forward, she presses her soft lips to my cheek in a quick kiss, and my breath stutters out in surprise, though it doesn’t keep the wildfire burning inside of me from spreading. Just as quickly, she pulls away and hops out of the truck, and I stare after her for a moment, wishing it were her lips pressed against mine instead. When she turns back to see where I am, I get my shit together and hop out, following behind her. Wes is waiting for us at the door and leads us to his desk where she signs the final paperwork and gets the keys.

  The smile on her face as we walk out of the building is blinding. I guess a little independence is exactly what she needs. Opening the door to her Charger, she stops before getting in.

  “Thanks, Jason. I’ll catch you later.” The sad look on her face when she says it makes my heart ache. Why does it feel like she’s ending something that hasn’t even started?

  Without another glance my way, she climbs in and shuts the door. The engine starts up with a throaty purr, and her reverse lights come on as she slowly backs out of the spot. I remain frozen, staring after her until she’s out of sight. Just friends, Jason. Just friends.

  Mallory

  Driving down the road, the sense of freedom is exhilarating. Just me, the radio, and the endless sea of asphalt as I accelerate, leaving all my worries in the proverbial dust. Sometimes, I feel as though Jason was helping me out of pity—having to take care of the poor, weak woman. He says I’m strong, but I’m not. Not even a little bit. When I look in the mirror, all that stares back is a meek, weak-willed woman who let a man beat her down mentally and physically.

  Leaving him standing there in the
parking lot was not what I had planned, but I can’t help but think about yesterday. I never heard him leave, his apartment was quiet instead of the subtle drone of the television or him banging around doing God knows what. But yesterday…it was eerie silence, and it bothered me, though I’m not sure why. I just felt off, skittish—anxious. All day, I kept listening for something, anything, even the click of his door shutting, and basically posted next to the window to see if his truck was there. It wasn’t. I couldn’t help wondering where he was, what he was doing...and when he didn’t come home, who he was doing.

  My thoughts kept me up most of the night, and I wanted to kick my own ass for being so…clingy, and needy, even if it was mental. What he does, or who, isn’t my business, and I hate that I’m letting it cloud my head. We’re friends. That’s it. It doesn’t matter than I want him in ways I didn’t think possible, or that the urge to kiss him is overwhelming.

  Shaking my head, I try to block out the crazy and focus on the here and now. I need to gain control of my life—to focus on me. Using the car’s Bluetooth, I plug in the address of the therapy place and take the next exit.

  The closer I get, the more nervous I get. Butterflies swarm in my stomach—and not in a good way. The bad feeling continues to rise as I turn into the parking lot, and I pull into a space near the door. The front of the building is nearly all tinted glass, but shadows of movement are visible.

  I just sit, staring at the door, self-doubt creeping in.

  Can I do this? Yes, damn it, I can.