Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Bates,” she purrs. I know I need to fuck her hard. I have to. That purring shit she does, fuck, it kills me.

  “Get on your knees,” I growl before I pinch her pretty pink nipples. She whimpers again, and my dick’s two seconds from exploding inside of my jeans.

  “You can’t force me,” she says softly. I shake my head.

  “Get on your goddamn knees, Brentlee. I’m gonna fuck that pussy while I stare at your perfect ass. I’m going to remind you that I own this sweet body of yours. Because sometime in the past three days, you’ve somehow forgotten,” I growl. She shivers in my arms before she sinks to her knees.

  “I haven’t forgotten,” she murmurs as she undoes my jeans and shoves them down my thighs.

  “I’m still pissed at you,” she grumbles.

  “You shouldn’t be. I only want you,” I grunt.

  “Why am I so weak?” she murmurs.

  I cup her cheek in my hand and I look at her. My cock is hanging out, and she’s half naked, but all I see is the vulnerability shining in her eyes. She needs to know that she isn’t weak; nothing about her is weak. She’s so fuckin’ strong.

  “You’re my tigritsa, so fucking strong, Brent,” I say, meaning every single fucking word. Her eyes sparkle and she gives me a small smile before she kisses the tip of my cock. Then, I groan as soon as her mouth wraps around the head of my dick.

  “Can you take it, baby?” I ask, unsure of exactly what her tolerance is, the conversation of her strength on hold—for now. I need to know exactly how rough I can be with her. I know some of the things that piece of shit did to her, but I don’t want to traumatize her more.

  “Whatever you give me, Bates. I can take it. I want it,” she says as her eyes connect with mine. Her fierceness radiates through them. Fuck me, my woman is strong. So goddamn strong.

  I cup her cheek before I slide my fingers through the side of her hair. My eyes completely focused on hers.

  “Then open your mouth, baby. I’m going to own it. I’m going to fuck it,” I say. She obliges. Her lips part and her mouth opens wide.

  I don’t hesitate as I slide my cock down her throat. I keep my eyes on her, our connection deep. I’m watching for any change in her features, any stress, any pain—anything. She can’t handle it and I’ll stop, no hesitation, no bullshit, I’ll stop. But as I thrust my hips, my cock sliding deeper and deeper down her perfect throat, the only thing I see shining in her eyes is pure, unadulterated, fucking lust.

  I bite my bottom lip and keep my pace, even and strong. I want to fuck her mouth so hard she sees stars, but not right now. Not for a while. That’s something we need to work up to. Honestly, she needs to trust me a whole hell of a lot more than she does right now.

  “I want to come down your hot, wet, throat,” I announce, my voice guttural.

  Brentlee only hums, and it makes me shiver. It feels so damn good. “But I want my cum dripping out of that sweet cunt more.”

  I pull out of her throat and slide to my knees in front of her before I take her swollen lips with mine. Sliding my hand between her legs, I moan when I feel how soaking wet she is. Back in the day, Brent would get off on giving me head, but I figured shit had changed. Luckily, it hasn’t. My lips travel along her jaw to her ear as I shove two fingers inside of her swollen pussy.

  “You gonna let me sink inside this sweet pussy, baby?” I ask before I nip her earlobe. I make a come hither motion with my fingers, avoiding her clit, but touching that rough patch inside of her.

  “Fuck me, Bates. Own me,” she moans as her hips move, searching for more, searching for friction against that greedy clit of hers. I give it to her, grinding my palm against her, and she whimpers.

  I pull my soaked hand out from between her legs and move around so that I’m positioned behind her. I trail my wet fingers through the crack of her ass and press two of them against her tight asshole.

  I don’t invade her entrance, not yet at least. Instead, I massage it. Her body goes taught for a moment before she relaxes and drops her head between her resting elbows. I know I’m the victor when she pushes her ass against me. Searching. Wanting. Needing.

  “I want this ass one day, baby,” I announce before I lean down and inhale her pussy, my fingers still massaging her back entrance.

  “Bates,” she gasps as my tongue snakes out and laps at her clit. It’s so fucking engorged, and hot, and sexy as shit.

  “Say I can take it, baby,” I murmur against her wet center. I don’t wait for her answer before I slide my tongue inside of her cunt, tasting her arousal.

  “Yes, Bates. Whatever you want, baby, it’s yours,” she whispers, grinding that sweet pussy against my mouth and my beard.

  “Not right now. Later. Now, I just want to sink my cock into this sweet pussy—my pussy,” I murmur as I rise. Without warning, I slam inside of her wet heat.

  “Bates,” she screams, arching her back.

  I wrap my arm around her tits and pull her up farther. I bury my face into her neck while my other hand goes straight for her clit. I had plans on fucking her like the animal I am, but now, now I just want her to come. I want to smell her and taste her, and just be hers while she does it.

  “This body belongs to me, every piece of it, Brentlee. Don’t fuckin’ ever think about taking it away from me again. Lived over ten years without it, baby, and lived those years in a black hell. You walked into that clubhouse and brought me out of it. Don’t put me back there again,” I whisper against her neck while I thrust my hips, pushing my dick deeper into her cunt while I play that clit the way she likes it.

  “It’s yours, Bates, but I don’t know if I can stay,” she murmurs wrapping her arm around my neck while she grinds down on my dick and my fingers simultaneously.

  “You’re never leavin’ me again,” I growl, nipping her neck.

  “You don’t fuck any whores, you don’t hit me, you don’t treat me or my daughter like shit, and I won’t leave you, baby,” she whimpers.

  I roughly squeeze her tit before I thrust inside of her with all of my strength. She cries out, but I feel her pussy grow wetter. My bitch likes it rough.

  “Would rather kill myself then hit you, Brent. Never gonna treat Stella like shit. Never gonna fuck around on you. And baby, I do any of that shit, and I won’t stop you from leaving me. Let me claim you, let me mark you, ink you,” I ask. She screams out her release as her pussy clamps down around me.

  Brent doesn’t answer me, but that’s okay. By the end of tonight, she’ll agree to have my name on her body, and she’ll be my woman one hundred percent. I thought I could ease her into this shit. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t. I need her to be mine, and for my world to see it.

  Maybe it’s my ego, maybe my pride. I don’t fuckin’ know—but I need her to have my name permanently inked on her smooth, olive colored skin. I close my eyes as I continue to thrust up into her cunt, and I imagine the ink. It’ll be feminine, a scroll, maybe some flowers. SNIPER will be on her, but so will Bates. She’ll have them both branded onto her body. I come as soon as I think of my names forever marking her as mine.

  “Tigritsa,” I murmur, licking the sweat from her neck, tasting her skin on my tongue, smelling the combination of our bodies coming together.

  This woman is perfect. I can’t fuck this up, and I refuse to allow her to fuck it up, either. Even when we’re fighting, I’ve never been so goddamn happy in my entire life.

  Brentlee

  I straighten my clothes and try to fix my hair a little by running my fingers through it. I have a feeling that nothing will make me look anything but freshly fucked. I look over at Bates as he stands by the now open door. He’s watching me with this glazed look in his eye, and a smile tipping his lips.

  “I still don’t think all of this is a good idea,” I huff. His tipped smile turns into a full-fledged grin.

  “It’s happening, baby. There’s no way around it. Can’t go another day without you as completely mine,” he announces as I walk
through the door. I wait until he lowers it and he joins me, throwing his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side.

  “We’re a mess. I’m a mess,” I announce, as if he doesn’t already know.

  “Yeah, babe, figured that out when you were fourteen. Didn’t care then, and sure as fuck don’t care now,” he chuckles.

  “I wasn’t a mess at fourteen,” I say defensively.

  “Baby, you were so worried about what everybody else thought, you didn’t think about what you wanted. You were a normal fourteen-year-old, but gave yourself these high expectations of constantly being perfect, all of the damn time. That shit had to be exhausting,” he says. I sigh.

  Fuck, I’ve been trying to be perfect for almost fifteen years. It’s extremely exhausting. I nod, unable to agree with him verbally.

  “Come on, tigritsa, let’s so see our girl,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on the top of my head before we are greeted by Buck. He smiles widely and shakes his head.

  “Hey, follow Kentlee home, yeah?” Bates asks. He nods.

  “Glad to see y’all worked your issues out,” Buck mumbles.

  I turn to him, red creeping up my neck. He winks before he bursts out laughing. Bates flips him the finger before we walk inside.

  My sister is sitting on the sofa and her eyes meet mine before she gives me a knowing smile. I blush, a-fuckin-gain.

  “When do you go to the tattoo parlor?” she asks before she giggles.

  “Shut up,” I say. At the same time Bates grunts, “Tomorrow.”

  Kentlee can’t help herself, she doubles over with laughter.

  “I love it. One fuck in the garage and you’re gonna be a claimed woman,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes.

  “Do we want to go there big sister?” I ask, arching a brow at her.

  I know most of her story with Fury. It didn’t take more than a fuck and a few sweet words to get her own ink.

  “Nope. I’m good. Gotta jet. Fury says he wants pulled pork tonight, and if I don’t start it immediately, he’s not gonna get it and then… well, let’s just say I won’t get it either,” she frowns, pinching her brows together.

  I roll my eyes before I help her gather the kids’ belongings. Stella sits quietly, watching the entire exchange, and I have the feeling my girl needs a little talk.

  Bates walks Krentlee out and I take Stella’s hand in mine before I guide us toward her bedroom. I settle down on her bed and she snuggles up next to me. There’s something bothering her and I want to find out what it is. We’ve gone through so many changes in such a short amount of time, I need to know that she’s handling everything all right.

  Brentlee

  “What’s the matter, sweet girl?” I ask as I run my fingers through her blonde curls.

  “Bear said I wasn’t never gonna see my daddy again,” she blurts out. My hand stills in her hair.

  “That’s not true, Stella. I wouldn’t ever keep you from your daddy, but it could be a while before you do see him again,” I say.

  “I don’t wanna see him,” she shouts.

  “Stella, he’s your daddy,” I say in surprise. She may not be a daddy’s girl, but I’ve never seen her act out this way before when it comes to Scotty.

  “He mean. He hurt us,” she whispers.

  “He hurt you, when?” I ask.

  My heart is suddenly pounding in my chest.

  My breathing short and sporadic.

  I can see stars in my vision and my chest hurts. It fucking hurts. What did this asshole do to my baby?

  “Only last twime. But he hurts you all the twime,” she murmurs. I let out a long exhale.

  Holy fuck. Holy Jesus.

  “He’s never going to hurt me again,” I say.

  “And you ain’t seein’ him again,” Bates growls from the doorway.

  I open my mouth to say something, to correct him, but he puts his hand up before he sinks to his knees in front of my daughter.

  “Daddy’s aren’t supposed to hurt mommies or sweet malyshka’s. I will not let him hurt you or mommy again,” Bates says. My daughter’s eyes grow wide. She looks at him as though he’s a super hero. And isn’t he? He’s my super hero. Always has been.

  “Pwomise?” she asks quietly.

  “He would have to get through me first, Stella,” he says, wrapping his big hand around the back of her neck.

  “You’re stwong,” she points out. Bates chuckles.

  “I’m a beast,” he grins.

  The rest of the day we spend together, the three of us as a family. It’s glorious. I make lunch for everyone and we eat it on a blanket outside, under a shade tree. Stella practices riding her bike while I lie my head in Bates’ lap. I purr when his fingers run through my hair.

  “Meant it when I said I wanted my name inked on you tomorrow, baby,” he murmurs.

  “Bates…” I don’t know what to say. What do you say? This isn’t a piece of jewelry. This is permanent.

  “I want Sniper and Bates both. I want your name on me, too,” he says. I look up at him in surprise.

  “Is that normal?” I ask.

  “Nope, but I want it. I don’t want it hidden either, I want it somewhere where no matter what, it’s seen,” he grunts.

  “Like where? Your forehead?” I ask, trying to hold back a giggle.

  “Side of my neck,” he says before his eyes turn down to meet mine.

  “You don’t have any ink at all, Bates. Why would you do that?” I ask.

  I’ve never asked him why he isn’t tatted up like the rest of the guys. Maybe I should.

  “I need the Devil’s insignia on my back; been needin’ that shit for years. Been slackin’. Tats aren’t my thing, never were. But I like the idea of having your name where the world can see who owns me.”

  “I thought you owned me?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “Haven’t you figured anything out yet, baby?” he asks, his voice gruff but sweet.

  “Like?”

  “You’re the one in control here. You fuckin’ own every part of me. Sure, I own your body, but fuck, baby, you still own my heart,” he murmurs.

  I look at him in surprise, remembering that conversation from so many years ago where he said I had his heart. He’s had mine, too. Always.

  “Okay, Bates,” I breathe.

  “Yeah?” he asks, giving me a boyish grin.

  “Tomorrow, before our shifts,” I confirm with a nod.

  “I’ll get my fuckin’ back piece, too. Fury will be so pleased,” he chuckles. “He’s been on my ass for years for that shit. Bugs the fuckin’ shit out of him that I haven’t fallen into line like everybody else.”

  “Why haven’t you?” I ask, trying to dig deeper into all that is Bates.

  He’s still the same person he was ten years ago, but now, he’s more closed off to the time we’ve spent apart. He never talks about it. Never mentions anything about his past. All I know is that he did some things in the Marines that now give him nightmares.

  I want to know everything about my man. He is that too, there’s no sense denying it or trying to discourage it. He’s mine and I’m his. Soon, we’ll be permanently branded with each other’s names and the world will know just how deep we are in with each other.

  “Why haven’t I gotten the Notorious Devils club ink?” he asks, repeating my question. He turns from me, but only to watch Stella, then he speaks.

  “I had plans on getting ink in the Marines. All my brothers and I were going to get matching shit. Eighteen and stupid and all that. We had plans to do it as soon as we returned to the states. One of the guys was an artist. Drew it all out, looked fuckin’ badass. I was the only one that came back to the states from that group alive,” he says. My heart breaks for him.

  No wonder he has nightmares. He lost his friends—apparently all of them. I don’t say anything. I want him to continue. He’s never been so open with me.

  “Got the design still, but I’ll never put it on my body. Maybe I should in memory of
them. Fuck if I know. Anyway, I never wanted Notorious Devils on my body because the last time I planned shit out, everybody got blown the fuck up.”

  I can’t stop the tear that trickles down my cheek, or the next one that follows. I sit up and crawl on top of him, straddling his legs and cupping his cheeks with my hands, forcing his head to face me. I look into his deeply haunted eyes and I smile sadly.

  “Let’s create new memories with ink. Let’s do your Devil’s tattoo and our names. I’m so sorry you lost your friends,” I whisper unable to speak any louder. His hands wrap around my thighs and he squeezes.

  “The nightmares, sometime they’re about them,” he says. I feel blessed he’s opening up to me.

  “Yeah, baby, I’d imagine that’s not something a person forgets.”

  “Never.”

  I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent and just holding him. My poor man. The hell he’s seen. The hell he’s endured. I’ll never be able to make him forget that shit from his past, but hopefully one day, the memories won’t be so vivid.

  Hopefully, I can help create such a happy and wonderful life that he’s unable to dwell on all that other shit. I hope that I can. I pray that with each other we can help ease the hurts and hells we’ve endured. That in each other we can find a peace and live a happy life. I know that with Bates by my side, it’s entirely possible.

  Sniper

  Family day.

  It’s not something I know much about. But this afternoon, I truly experienced it. After Stella rode her bike until she was exhausted, dirty, and ready for dinner, we all went inside. It felt good, my woman cuddled up against me and my daughter playing in the warm sunshine. Stella is that, too. Mine. My daughter, as she always should have been.

  Brentlee gets Stella bathed while I BBQ our dinner. I don’t cook, never learned, but I can man a grill, so that’s what I’ll do for them. Burgers, grilled corn, and potatoes.