by Hart, Lane
“Fuuuck,” Silas mutters. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a good fight.” Turning to Dev, he says, “I’ve got a grand on our prez taking Fi out in the first round.”
“I’m not stupid enough to take that bet,” Dev responds with a roll of his eyes.
“What do you say, Fiasco?” I ask since he’s still quiet and unusually thoughtful, so much so his forehead is all wrinkled up. “You gonna put your money where your mouth is?”
Finally, he grins at me. “It’s funny you should say that. It’s the exact same line I asked Naomi before she got down on her knees and I shoved my dick down her throat.”
“Just answer the goddamn question,” I growl, hating that visual image more than I’ve ever hated any fucking thing. That right there should’ve been my first clue that I’ve lost my shit for a thieving piece of ass with a banging body and a pretty face.
“A fight for a two-week fuck fest with Naomi? Count me in,” Fiasco agrees. “As long as there won’t be any hard feelings when I kick your ass, prez.”
“What happens in the cage stays in the cage,” I assure him when I hold out my palm for him to come and shake on it.
“Deal,” he agrees as he takes it and squeezes my fingers like that’ll make me scared of him.
There’s no fucking way I’m going to lose this fight. There’s too much at stake, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to give up Naomi before I’ve even gotten started on the long list of depraved things I’ve thought about doing to her.
Chapter Eleven
Naomi
* * *
“Holy crap. Your house is…small,” I say as I take in the one-bedroom beach house on stilts. I struggle to climb off the back off his bike, until Malcolm grabs my arm to steady me.
“Is that a bad thing? Were you expecting a mansion?” Malcolm questions me. Snaking his arm around my waist and running his tongue up the side of my neck, he goes on to ask, “Is it only big houses and piles of money that get your pussy nice and wet?”
“No,” I tell him honestly since his mouth is all it takes to get me wet.
“Yeah, sure,” he mutters. “Don’t think I haven’t figured out why you only gave Fiasco a blowjob but are going to let me fuck you as much as I want. He’s broke and the low man on the totem pole; I’m not.”
“That doesn’t matter to me,” I say as I step away from his hands and mouth to turn and face him. “And in case you forgot, you’re the one who came up with this arrangement where I’m your whore.”
“Right,” he drawls sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “Just don’t get too attached. After two weeks, your ass is out of here. If I wanted a live-in girlfriend or wife, I would’ve bought one already.”
“Bought one?” I scoff. “Wow, you’re so romantic, Malcolm.”
“Just speaking the truth,” he replies with a shrug of his shoulders. “Money gets you into panties.”
“It’s not just about money. Do I think it’s sexy when a man earns a living and supports himself? Hell yes. What woman doesn’t? But that’s not all there is in the world…”
“Okay, honey. If you say so. I’ve had enough talking for tonight, though. Why don’t you go get naked and get in my bed?” Grabbing my shoulder, he spins me around and points straight ahead. “It’s right at the end of that hall, big four-poster king bed. Can’t miss it.”
After he walks off, I wander into the bedroom and debate sprawling naked on his bed as he asked or defying him.
A big, powerful man like Malcolm probably enjoys the thrill of the chase, not having women throw themselves at him constantly, making it too easy. That must be why he always turned down his employees.
Well, before me, that is…
I’m still not sure why he finally broke his rule for me. There must have been women a lot prettier than me, curvier with bigger boobs and a lot more experience. Still, I would be lying if I said that I’m not looking forward to the next two weeks. I’m thrilled that I’m Malcolm’s exception. It makes me feel…special. Sure, I had to agree to let him use my body whenever he wants, however he wants, in order to get out of my mess with Harry; but based on my experience in Malcolm’s office, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy being his to command. Already, my tummy is tightening at the prospect of being dominated by him again. Still, I don’t plan to let him know just how much I want him or make it too easy for him to get inside of me.
Next to Malcolm’s big bed (that I have no doubt has seen more pussy than most gynecologists) is a matching cherry wood dresser. I head straight for it, opening one drawer after another until I find a stack of folded cotton t-shirts. None look brand new. Most are thin and some have holes in them like they’ve been well loved over many years. I pull an old black one out and slip it over my head before rummaging around until I find Malcolm’s boxer briefs. They’ll probably be a little big on me, but I pull a pair on anyway. After I roll the elastic top down a few times, they finally stay put.
Now what the heck am I supposed to do?
Before I can figure out a plan, I hear Malcolm’s heavy boots coming closer and then his wide shoulders are filling the narrow doorway, a bottle of beer in each of his hands. He silently stares at me with his jaw tight, apparently not appreciating the fact that I went through his things already. Finally, he goes over and sets the drinks down on the nightstand before turning back to me. “What the hell are you wearing?” he asks.
“Your shirt and boxers,” I say as I glance down, thinking that should be obvious since all I had on when we came in was a torn dress and panties.
“Take them off,” he says as he turns back over to the table and pops the caps on the bottles. Picking one up, he takes a big swig.
“No,” I reply without thinking.
For a second there, I thought he was going to choke on his beer. He doesn’t, though. He just silently drinks it while I wait for his reaction, making me envious of the bottle who has taken up all his attention.
Eventually, he lowers the beer and starts to remove his leather vest. Passing by me as if I don’t exist, he opens the closet door and walks inside. When he comes back out a moment later, his shirt is also missing, flaunting his bare chest with a dusting of hair down the center and washboard abs in front of me for the first time. And damn, does he look even better without the clothing. I gasp when my eyes lower to his outie belly button, unable to figure out why something so innocent causes dampness between my legs. My mouth waters, and I quickly swallow it down. How is it possible that Malcolm has a sexy belly button of all damn things on top of all of his other attributes?
“Did you forget the conversation we had earlier when I was balls deep inside of you?” he asks, his words distracting me from his body. Instead of coming straight for me as I half expected, he stays several feet away. “I’m the one who gives the orders. You do what I say for the next two weeks.”
I lean my back against the wall next to his dresser and cross my arms over my chest, waiting.
“Are you seriously trying to test me?” Malcolm asks. “We had a deal. And trust me, Naomi, you really don’t want to fuck around with me again.”
My entire body freezes as soon as my name leaves his lips. He says it like he owns it, owns me. And my traitorous body is already being trained to his voice. It’s eager to obey him and only him.
When Malcolm stalks toward me, I have no idea what he’s gonna do to me. My pulse rises the closer he gets, and my eyes get distracted again by his naked upper body that’s covered in tattoos except for the fuzzy line trailing down into his jeans. I may have even licked my lips at the sight, but then he’s towering above me, only inches away. I almost moan when he grabs the bottom of the t-shirt I’m wearing and balls it up tightly in his fist.
“So, are you going to be my fuck doll for fourteen days, or do you want to take your chances with Harry?” he asks, his warm breath ghosting over my cheek, smelling of beer.
I drag my eyes up his chiseled stomach and chest to his face to answer, but his green eyes are intox
icating from this distance. Before, when Malcolm fucked me in his office, he stayed behind me the entire time. But now, looking into the depths of eyes that are blazing with a demanding authority, I know how he became the president of the Dirty Aces. I also know that I’ll do anything he wants and maybe even beg for it.
His gaze continues to hold mine while his calloused palm glides over my hips and slips down into the back of his boxers I’m wearing, cupping my ass before jerking the cotton down my legs.
My shirt is then yanked up. And when I raise my arms to assist in the removal, Malcolm restrains them both above my head on the wall.
“Let me explain something to you,” he whispers in my ear before dipping his tongue inside, making me squirm with need. He steps forward, using the front of his body to keep me still, and boy does it when I feel his cock hard and thick against my thigh. “We. Made. A. Deal. So every time you refuse me, you’ll be punished before I fuck you.”
“You-you should probably know that I have a bit of a stubborn streak,” I tell him as I lick my lips that have gone dry. “And I’m a slow learner.”
He arches one eyebrow, and his lips almost quirk up at the meaning behind my words. “So you like to play rough?”
“A little rough can be fun sometimes.”
“Good, because I have a lot of rough fucks to give you. Starting now.”
This time there’s definitely a smirk on his handsome face when he releases my hands to grab both of my ass cheeks. Hefting me up off my feet and around his waist, Malcolm carries me to the bed. As soon as he tosses me to the center of the mattress, his massive body is covering mine, pinning me down so that even exhaling is a feat. Malcolm’s mouth seals over one of my nipples a second later, sucking hard and making me writhe in the confined space underneath him.
This is just a business deal, paying him back after he caught me stealing. I shouldn’t want his mouth on me or any other part of him, but I can’t help myself. My back arches off the mattress at the same time an embarrassing moan escapes past my lips. How long has it been since a man’s touched me like this, so aggressively and without apology?
The truth is, it’s never been like this before.
Malcolm’s teeth bite into the meaty flesh of my breast until I cry out at the sudden jolt of pain and try to get away. That only makes him chuckle harder before his mouth lowers, his tongue dipping into my belly button, sending a pleasurable jolt all through my body.
“Oh God,” I groan, and instinctively my hands search for something to hold on to, something to anchor me while my body demands that his mouth moves lower. My fingers dive into Malcolm’s thick, brown waves and tug hard, telling him what I want but not being able to find the words to say. His hair feels even better than I expected.
“Easy there, honey. I’ll eat your pussy when I’m good and ready,” he says when his searing green eyes peek up at me in warning. “Just for that, now I’m gonna take my time.”
“Hurry up! Please,” I beg, and I never, ever beg, but this man has got me so hot that I can’t wait any longer.
“I think you need a reminder of who’s in charge here,” Malcolm says before he suddenly rolls off the bed, leaving me lying there, sweaty, desperate and needy. Watching him walk around the room only amplifies that desire. His long hair is now ruffled by my fingers running through it, and his kissable full lips are red and full from sucking on my flesh. When he opens a drawer on the nightstand and pulls out something metal, it takes my sex hazed mind longer than usual to realize they’re two pairs of handcuffs.
“W-wait, what are you doing?” I ask, sitting up on my elbows. “You’re not putting those on me,” I tell him. When his eyes narrow, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. Or maybe the right one?
Before I can scramble away on all fours, he’s on me, an arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me back to the center of the bed on my stomach. I can barely breathe when he presses all his weight on my backside, holding me down while he grabs for my wrists. I try to buck him off, but he’s twice my size and stronger than a freaking ox. The metal clicks tightly over one wrist and then the other, and then I’m his.
Why does the idea of being his, combined with his weight bearing down on me, dominating me, get me so wet that the arousal may very well leave a puddle in his bed soon?
Malcolm is not even out of breath when he flips me over and pulls me by the chain connecting the two cuffs to the headboard. A second later, my arms are raised and there’s another metallic click. I try to lower my arms, but they only come to my forehead before they meet resistance.
“There,” Malcolm says. “Now, where were we?” he asks before his palms grasp both of my knees and spreads them wide apart. “Oh right. You were begging me to lick your pussy.”
“Was not,” I counter.
“So you weren’t trying to scalp me when you were moaning please?”
In response to his question, I exhale heavily, trying to blow my sweaty hair out of my eyes and then remain silent.
“If you’ve forgotten already, I’d be happy to remind you,” Malcolm says before his head lowers between my legs. His wet tongue licks a straight line from my knee down up my inner thigh, stopping right where I want his tongue. I try not to squirm, to not let his ministrations get to me, even when he blows the cool air from his mouth over my pussy. A small giggle escapes, and then it’s like a dam bursting as my body shakes with laughter.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Malcolm sits back on his knees and asks.
Tears leak down my cheeks, so it’s hard to see the expression on his face. And since my hands are restrained, I can’t even wipe them away.
“You just gave me a blow job,” I tell him, followed by another giggle.
“Are you high or drunk?” he asks.
“No,” I reply. “I’m handcuffed to the bed of a man who caught me stealing from him hours ago, a man Harry said would kill me if I got caught.”
“Did you really think for a second that I would kill you?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips and sounding genuinely annoyed.
“Seriously? Um, I dunno.”
“Well, in that case, I don’t know what’s more fucked up – the fact that you think I could kill so easily or the fact that you’re in my bed begging me to tongue fuck you despite the fact that you think you’re in mortal jeopardy.”
“I-I wasn’t begging.”
“You were,” he says, lowering himself over me until his face is inches from mine, those hypnotic eyes burning into my blue ones. “And if you really thought I would kill you or harm you, I don’t think you would have ever let me touch you.”
“But Harry will if I don’t pay him the rest of his money.”
“I’m going to take care of that asshole. But right now, there’s nothing we can do about it tonight. Since you’re naked in my bed and begging me to lick your tight little pussy, I’m going to fuck you as many times as I can get my dick up and deal with him tomorrow.”
“I didn’t beg…oh God!” I exclaim when Malcolm suddenly shoves one of his thick fingers inside me.
“You did, and you will again,” he says before he leans down to take one of my nipples between his teeth and tug on it before applying suction. Between that and the hand between my legs while my arms are restrained, it doesn’t take long before every inch of my body ignites into flames that threaten to burn me from the inside out. Just as soon as Malcolm’s mouth lowers and his tongue starts to flutter against my clit, I combust, coming apart in waves of pleasure so intense they almost hurt.
By the time the fire slowly dies down inside of me, Malcolm’s damp chest is right above my face as he rhythmically rolls his hips like he’s moving to the most erotic song ever. On each upward thrust, he relentlessly fills me with his long, hard as steel flesh over and over again. At some point, my legs wrapped around his waist, so that my heels are digging into his muscular ass, urging him to go deeper even though there’s not a breath of space inside me that he hasn’t thoroughly plundered.
&
nbsp; My mouth goes dry from the various gasps and moans I’m making, so I lap up Malcolm’s slick skin as his pecs move back and forth over my tongue. He tastes delicious, salty with a hint of coconut.
“Fuck, Naomi,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue like a familiar lover instead of a near stranger. Lowering himself to his forearms puts his neck within reach of my lips, so I devour that skin as well. Malcolm must like it, because he growls against my ear and then loses his rhythm, his massive body shuddering after he rams his cock as far as it will go inside me one final time.
Once he goes still, his brick wall of a chest grazes mine with each of our panting breaths, and his gasps are loud next to my ear where his wet lips are still pressed, tickling me, making me squirm underneath him since I can’t push him away. I’m not sure I really want to.
Malcolm abruptly grabs both sides of my jaw in one of his strong hands, squeezing it in a tight grip so that I’m forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are heavy lidded and there’s a hint of a smile trying to tip the corners of his bearded lips, so I know he’s not angry. “The next time I come, it’s gonna be in this sexy mouth, and it’ll be your fault for teasing me with it.”
“You taste good,” I tell him, obviously still high on endorphins. Now, he does smile down at me for the very first time, and he’s so gorgeous he takes my breath away.
“So do you,” he replies before he rolls away and climbs off the bed. The loss of him between my legs leaves me feeling empty. My inner walls spasm as if searching for Malcolm, missing the way he stretches and fills up the space like he was made for it.
I follow his movements across the room, eyeing his semi-erect cock and ready to beg him for it again, even though I don’t beg. It’s a relief to see there’s a condom covering his big Johnson, although I have no idea when he took the time to put it on. Without a word, he disappears into the bathroom where I hear water running, his shower I’m guessing. Eventually, clouds of steam come rolling out, smelling of sweet, delicious coconuts and sandalwood. It must be his body wash or shampoo that gives him the mouthwatering scent.