Sweet Perdition

by Cynthia Rayne

  Ryker sat down on the edge of the table and breathed deeply until he felt a little more calm. Finally, he spoke. “Here’s the deal. I’m sorry you saw what you did tonight. These kinds of parties aren’t for girls like you. But you and I? We aren’t together. You ain’t my old lady.”

  She swallowed, watching him carefully.

  “In my world, when a woman is your old lady, she has exclusive rights to you. Not all the guys see it that way. They have an old lady and chase tail on the side, but I take my commitments seriously and that’s why I haven’t made one for you. As far as I’m concerned? What I do when I’m away from you is my own business.”

  She laughed at that and sounded ugly. Sharp and pained. “Oh, so you are free to screw whoever you like?”

  “Hey! Hold on a God damn minute!” he yelled. Christ. “I didn’t fuck either of them.”

  “What? Oh, you only dry humped then? Oh, well, that’s completely fine then.”

  He’d never seen her so pissed. Her good girl demeanor slipped a bit, her eyes snapped at him, and her cheeks flushed. She looked fucking beautiful. “They’re hellions. Nothing special. Screwing one of them is fun, but it means nothing to them or me. It’s like eating a burger or breathing. I’m satisfying a simple biological need. Nothing more.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I see. And is that supposed to make it better or worse?”

  He sighed. “You aren’t from my world, so you don’t get it. But right now? You are the only girl that matters to me and you are the only one I’m having sex with at the moment.”

  Hope flared in her eyes. “Since you’ve slept with me, you haven’t had sex with anyone else?”

  “No, I haven’t.” It still floored him. He’d never felt the need to be monogamous before. But he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t at some point.

  She relaxed a little, her breath coming more evenly. This was some sick and twisted shit, but seeing her jealousy on display reassured him a bit. She wanted him, well and truly had a thing for him. He hadn’t only been some quick and easy screw for her, a rebound guy to help her pick up the pieces.

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m tired and I don’t want to fight about this anymore. If you were my old lady, you could bust my balls in private all you like, but you aren’t, so there isn’t really anything to say.”

  She made a face. “And that’s your final decision?

  He nodded.

  She gave him the strangest look that he couldn’t quite read. “So be it,” she said.

  So be what? Ominous sounding shit, but he didn’t want to know right now. He had other, more pressing needs to attend to at the moment. Since the argument had ended in his eyes, he locked the boardroom door and shut off the lights. That should do it, for a bit of privacy. No one would be able to see them in the darkness.

  He prowled towards her and she backed up, thighs hitting the table.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m done fighting for the night. Remember when I said I’d fuck you on this table?”

  “Yes,” she snapped.

  “Last time, you were too scared, but I think you want it now.”

  “You can’t be serious. I feel like smacking you.”

  He chuckled. “Well, darlin’, I feel like that smacking that fine ass of yours, so I guess we’re even.”

  With that, he grabbed her and bent her over the table. Face down. Ass up. Just the way he liked her, but instead of protesting, she moaned a little. Good, he hadn’t wanted to gag her. He had other, better, uses for her mouth. He flipped her modest skirt up to reveal a pair of lacy white panties. So virginal. God damn, this naughty librarian thing turned him on.

  He yanked the panties down around her ankles and then pulled them off and brought them to his nose. Fuck. A hint of her lavender perfume and the sweet scent of her pussy. He tucked them in his pocket. He planned to keep those in his nightstand for some cold comfort. She braced her hands on the wood, but didn’t protest.

  “Oh God damn, you are wearing the butt plug I gave you. Very good girl.” The pink jewel glistened between the full cheeks of her succulent ass. He couldn’t help but push the end of it in a bit further, making her moan in response.

  “Did you think of me when you put it in?” He grasped the end of it pulled it slowly out and then pushed in, one smooth motion that had her hips bucking against him and then he gave her a good whack on the bottom. “Tell me.”

  “Yes, damn you!”

  That news made his cock buck in his pants. He wanted to yank the plug out, plunge his dick in, but not just yet.

  She made him feel so greedy it almost scared him. The thought of Carl or Shepherd or any man touching what belonged to him drove him insane. He had no right to feel like that about her. That possessive shit wasn’t like him at all. He liked being a free agent. Fucking as he pleased. While he enjoyed pussy, he never gave a shit about any of the girls. Wham, bam, and leave me the fuck alone.

  But something in him wanted to own her, keep her as his. He’d never felt that way about a woman and it rocked him to his motherfucking core.

  And seeing her like this made him fantasize…

  His brothers normally gave their old ladies a club symbol of some sort, a horse necklace or ring, or even a cut with a property patch on it, stating that she belonged to a specific biker. He hated to admit it but, he wanted to mark her somehow. Seeing her like this, bent over for him, she was vulnerable and begging to be mounted. He wanted something permanent on her. Something she could never take off. Like his name tattooed on her ass cheek. Property of Ryker. That way he could see it when he fucked her from behind; run his hand along it as he filled her tight cunt or better yet, her luscious peach of an ass. His cock jerked again.

  Damn. I’m going to blow and I haven’t even gotten inside her yet.

  He pushed a finger between her legs, nothing but hot wetness. Good. Fighting had turned her on too. She widened her stance, gave him even deeper access.

  So hot. Her pussy turned to liquid for him. “Love how wet you are, how much you want me.” Mine.

  “Oh God.” She shuddered, arching her hips up and surging against his questing fingers. He grabbed a condom from his jeans pocket and then hesitated as he stared at her. He wanted to be inside all the hot wetness without a barrier between them. He needed to feel every snug inch of her surrounding his cock.

  But the likelihood of that happening right now was nil, so he decided to not push it. For the moment at least.

  With a growl, he put the condom on and then he surged into her, filling her pussy and pounded her hard, one hand braced on the back of her neck. Holding her down. Not that she tried to get away; she keened, rocking against him, and then finally came with a shuddering wail. He shouted his release a minute later, finishing much sooner that he’d intended.

  After a few minutes, he came to his senses. Now that the fever subsided, he could think clearly again.

  “That was a good way to make up after a fight.” He pulled out, stuffed his cock back in his pants.

  “Hate to break it to you,” she grouched. “But we didn’t have make up sex. We argued and ended up screwing.” She stood up, obviously flustered and still pissed.

  Shit.

  “Call it what you want. I thought it was pretty fucking fantastic.” He cleared his throat. “Now, this Carl issue had to be solved. Tell me where that asshole lives and I will take care of your problem. I’ll round up a couple of my brothers and we’ll change his mind. Tonight.”

  “I don’t need you to take care of it. It’s over and done with it. I made it clear.” She smoothed her clothes and checked her buttons.

  He hoped so, but if Carl touched her again? He was in for a world of hurt. “Damn, but you are a stubborn woman!”

  Pinky rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and you are so easy going. I don’t want you to get involved.” She glanced up at him hopefully. “But there is something I want you to do.”

  “And what’s
that?” He braced himself for another fight over the ownership of his dick.

  “The Red Bud festival is tomorrow.” She bit her lip. “I thought you could go with me. Might be fun.”

  “The what?” Now that was some shit that he hadn’t expected. She wanted him to go to a garden party?

  “The Red Bud festival. It’s a fair. There’s music, food, some arts and crafts. I love it and I go every year and I thought we could go together. Before you answer, keep in mind that like a half an hour ago you were all over two other women.”

  Shit. Guilt prodded him to say yes, but he didn’t exactly belong at some kind of citizen function. He had to talk her out of this. “Fine. I’ll take you, but I want you to wear the outfit I gave you the other day. Deal?”

  A grin tugged at her lips. An evil one. She cocked her head to the side. Kinda hot. “Oh, believe me, it’s a deal.”

  Fuck me. She agreed to it. “Seriously?” He raised a brow. He’d been convinced that she’d back down and he’d swoop in with a counter offer that suited him better. He’d been planning on a totally different evening. Instead of a boring night mixing with townies, he’d spend the night inside her warm pussy.

  “Deadly serious. I want you to remember this was your idea, not mine. Pick me up at six. I’ll be tarted up and ready.” With that, she headed out the door and didn’t look back.

  Ryker had an awful feeling, he’d just fucked up again.

  Chapter Twelve

  I’m going to castrate all of them.

  Revenge is a cold-eyed bitch. Elizabeth paid him back for dancing with other women, by turning a few heads herself. Ryker must have been out of his mind when he agreed to come to a citizen fair with her.

  He had hoped she would chicken out and he’d end up appreciating all of her charms in the privacy of his bed, but she’d called him on his bluff and now every guy at the fair got an eyeful of his woman. From horny teenage boys to geriatrics, she turned them all on.

  And it was his own fucking fault.

  While he hated the extra attention she received, he had to admit that she was a sight to behold. Hell on black high heels. The red top stretched over her bust, revealing the deep valley between her tits. The silver buttons strained to keep them contained. He had dueling urges. One, to rip the flimsy fabric right off her and see what kind of bra she wore and the other to throw his cut over her shoulders and drag her ass out of this place.

  Her tiny black skirt barely covered her shapely ass. It rested right above the tops of her thighs. She’d attempted to cover up some of the exposed flesh with two black thigh highs, but that only showcased her bared skin and gave the outfit more of a bedroom feel. Adding to the sexpot vibe, she’d outlined her pouty mouth with red lipstick and added the color to her fingertips and toenails for good measure.

  God damn. She looked like a centerfold from a nudie mag and he bet more than one guy would be picturing her tonight as he fucked his own palm.

  What’s more? She seemed to enjoy the male attention, even provocatively bending over tables so he had to stand behind her, keeping a crowd of horny dickheads away, all of them hoping to peep up her skirt.

  “What do you think?” she asked, looping her arm through his as they walked between the various stalls.

  “Mostly? I’m thinking about getting my cock inside you again.” He slyly tucked his dick back against his body. Again. It seemed to have a mind of its own around her. Thank God for his cut, which mostly covered it. He’d been hard as a baseball bat since she walked out to meet his bike like a wet dream come to life.

  “I meant the fair!” She blushed and slapped his arm playfully, but he could see the small, pleased smile tugging at her lips.

  “Oh, that? Not bad. Good music. Better eats.” He shrugged. It could have been worse. They had an 80s rock band in the pavilion and the group had been working through Bon Jovi’s hits all night. They threw in a bit of Kiss and Van Halen now and then and the fair food didn’t suck. He’d had a couple of beers, two ribs, a corn dog, and an elephant ear. Nothing like Voodoo’s home cooking, but pretty tasty.

  He liked redbud trees as much as the next guy, but he usually blew past them doing 80 on the interstate. Never would have thought to throw them a party.

  He’d never understand citizens and their crazy ways.

  “You about ready to go, darlin’?” They’d seen everything. They’d checked out all of the crafts, listened to the music, ate the food. As far as he could tell, they’d played this scene out.

  “Hardly. I want to stay for the fireworks.” She patted his arm. “You had better suck it up and get used to the idea of staying a bit longer.”

  Fuck me. I’ll die of blue balls before then.

  “I’m not the only one who is going to be sucking something tonight,” he warned. Little tease. If she kept this up, he’d throw her over a table and screw her in front of the whole town.

  They’d have to turn a hose on them to get him to stop.

  “Is that warning?”

  He grinned. “More like a promise.”

  Laughing, she steered him to yet another endless row of crafts. As she bent over to examine a silver necklace, he noticed one bold asshole examining every single inch of her legs. The dickhead actually reached down and adjusted his package while staring at his woman.

  While other men had ogled her, they had kept their glances discrete, even a bit respectful. Only a twice over and then the bastards moved on, always nodding to Ryker after they had done so. Can’t blame a man for noticing such a hot ass, but getting a hard on while you eye fucked another man’s possession? Hell no! Way too much of an insult to ignore.

  Elizabeth, mind on her jewelry hunt, seemed oblivious and he went over to set the guy straight.

  He strolled over and got in his face. “What the hell do you think you are doing, dickhead?”

  The dumbass grinned. “Staring at my former girlfriend and believe me, I’ve seen a lot more of her than that.”

  He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Dipshit, in the motherfuckin’ flesh. “Let me guess. Carl, right?”

  The other man nodded.

  He looked the guy up and down, not impressed. Dipshit hardly seemed like her type. Tall and not homely? Sure. But boring as shit. He had no ink or piercings. Worse, the dude actually wore khaki pants. Nothing there but some stale ass white bread.

  “You must be the biker?” Dipshit asked.

  He bared his teeth in what passed for a smile. He had learned long ago to keep calm in a confrontation. Usually scared the ever livin’ shit out of your opponent. “Name’s Ryker. She tell you about me?”

  “I heard a rumor she was, uh, dating a biker. Apparently, my Elizabeth has a wild streak. Never knew that about her.” He glanced over Ryker’s shoulder. Still eyeing Pinky like she currently twirled on a pole with Benjamins stuffed in her thong.

  He stepped to the side, blocking his view. He had to hand it to white bread. Bold move, continuing to stare at his woman, and then refusing to back down. Carl probably counted on the crowd around them to keep him in check.

  Big mistake.

  He didn’t give a piss if he had another assault charge on his record. Far as he was concerned, punching this dumbass in the face would be a public service. “Yeah, she’s my Elizabeth now. Heard you got married. Congrats. Where’s the missus? I’d love to congratulate her.” More like offer condolences. He got closer, backing the fool up a foot or two.

  Dipshit’s eyes darkened and his hands curled into fists. He would bet money, he’d never been in a fight before. “She’s busy.”

  “Yeah, I bet she’s too busy to notice you slipped out. She mentioned you’d stopped by her work the other day.” He got even closer, kept his voice low. Deceptively friendly. “I’d find another library, Carl. All sorts of accidents happen to guys like you at the one in town, or better yet? Buy your books on Amazon. Trust me, it’s much safer that way.”

  “Carl!” Elizabeth shouted as she ran over to them, her face flushed, eyes wide
. She placed herself between Dipshit and himself.

  “Hey, babe,” Carl said. “Good to see you.”

  “Really?” Pinky asked. “Because I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

  He jerked his head in the other man’s direction. “Yeah, I told Carl here the library is a dangerous place for him.”

  Dipshit ignored him and stared at his woman. “I hoped I’d run into you tonight.”

  He didn’t buy that story for a minute. Carl had come here to stalk her. He’d seen this shit play out before. You might say the club specialized in helping stalkers see the error of their creepy ways.

  “Did you?” She said brightly, and then focused on Ryker. “Well, we gotta go. We have an, um, thing later on tonight.” She tugged on his arm, trying to pull him away.

  He refused to budge. Not like she could make him move either. He smirked at her former boyfriend “Yeah, we gotta go. Places to go. Nasty things to do. Maybe explore that wild side of hers tonight,” he said quietly, relishing the way Carl’s nostrils flared in protest. “Have yourself a real good night. I know I will.”

  Then, he towed her to his bike. She remained silent and from the way she stomped across the grass, he could tell she was pissed. Good, he was pissed too. More the fucking merrier.

  The sun had begun sinking in the sky. They’d parked behind a copse of trees, at the far end of the field and the lot was nearly empty. Most people had either cleared out or gathered around the pavilion to see the fireworks.

  As soon as they reached the bike, she stopped and placed her hands on her hips. “What the hell, Ryker?”

  “Just takin’ care of business, Pinky, and marking my territory.” He grabbed his brain bucket from the back of the bike and held hers out but she pushed it away.

  “I asked you not to get involved. I told Carl we were over. You didn’t need to threaten him,” she gritted out