Brianna (Shadow Wolves MC Book 2)

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Brianna (Shadow Wolves MC Book 2) Page 10

by Daniela Jackson


  “Tell me you want me in your ass, Brianna.” His fingers work me gently but deeper and deeper.

  “I don’t—“

  “Tell me you want me in your ass,” he repeats in a menacing voice, pulling his fingers out of my tight hole, making me crave desperately the sensation of my two openings being fucked.

  The truth is that I want him in every way. I will suck him off on my knees. I will let him punish my pussy from behind. I will let him fuck me in the ass.

  “I want you in my ass,” I say.

  We kiss gently as he pulls out of my pussy and the head of his cock touches my tight opening.

  I suck in a breath as Zane pushes in.

  The head of his cock goes past my sphincter and I bite my lower lip. My body stiffens. There is pain, decadent and dirty. Tempting, calling me to explore this novelty.

  Zane eases his weight onto his elbows and watches me with dark insane eyes. He doesn’t move.

  “It hurts,” I whisper.

  “It will be better in a moment,” Zane says like he’s gritting his teeth.

  Sweat trickles between my breasts and my thighs quiver as the pain subsides. Zane goes deeper inside me, slowly, inch by inch, then stops half buried in my ass, his elbows locked, palms flat at either side of my head. Fuck, it hurts.

  “Zane,” I shriek, my breathing ragged.

  “Relax.” The menacing tone of his voice makes me aware that he’s not going to stop, but I don’t want him to.

  I want him to punish me, to dominate me and to wreck me. I want to cross borders with him.

  Zane huffs, wrinkling his forehead, then his lips brush mine and I feel his thumb massaging my clitoris. Pleasure fills my tummy. A dirty, forbidden pleasure. I want this pleasure to consume me. My folded legs spread wide apart as my heels dig into the mattress.

  “I can do it myself,” I say and pull my wrist.

  Zane reaches out to one of the cuffs and manipulates it, releasing one of my wrists. I move my hand down to my mound and search for my clitoris, rubbing my finger against it in circles.

  “Does it still hurt?” Zane rasps.

  “No,” I gasp.

  “Tell me to fuck you.”

  “Fuck me, Zane.”

  Zane goes deeper and buries his cock in my ass to the root. I melt, almost disintegrate, and fall into the chasm of elemental sensations. I’m full and stretched like never before. Zane pumps into me gently as I massage my clitoris. My whole being turns into pure consciousness, pure sensation. Pure need for release. I rise to my peak. Everything is bubbly and hot inside me.

  “Wait for me, baby,” Zane says and thrusts into me harder. Faster.

  I start moaning, taking him deeper and deeper as my satisfaction builds rapidly. “I’m cumming, Zane.”

  I hear myself moaning louder and louder as Zane’s moan muffles mine. He fucks me hard and we are as one, enveloped by eternity for a split second, full of the universe. It burns a memory into my mind, changes me forever. Zane thrusts into me deeper, then his body stiffens and trembles against mine as he cums inside me.

  It’s dreamy, foggy and dense like I’m outside my flat in England early in the morning. It’s intense, the smell of our sweat and desire heavy around us.

  Zane’s lips press against mine, his sweat sprinkling my forehead, and he moves his hips against mine one more time then pulls out. He kisses my cheek and gets up clumsily.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” he says.

  I roll on my side as my eyelids grow heavy. My ears fill with the sound of Zane’s footsteps then his tantalising scent and heat envelop me. He wipes my bottom from our combined cum then lies down beside me. The sensation of his hard muscles around my body is deliriously pleasant. I could live in his embrace for eternity.

  A doubtful part of my brain switches on like somebody has pressed a button. How many women have lain in his embrace before me? Tens? Maybe even a hundred. He is very experienced in bed. My stomach fills with a slimy and heavy coldness.

  Zane’s mouth touches my cheek.

  “What is it?” he asks in a sleepy voice.

  “Nothing.”

  “Really?”

  “You like rough dirty sex.”

  He chuckles. “I like rough dirty sex but only with you.”

  Well, he looked for me for eight months and was faithful to me. It must mean that I’m better than all the women in his life so far. I want to ask him more questions, but my dignity does not allow me to.

  “Sleep,” Zane murmurs. “You’re exhausted.”

  I yawn and drift off to oblivion.

  I wake up as the day is about to dawn. A bird twitters behind the window.

  Zane is spooning me within his body and we’re lying on our sides. A sense of happiness and safety fills my veins. I’m a wife. My husband is the most wonderful man in the world.

  As my glance travels to my wrist, I chuckle. Of course, I’m still chained to Zane.

  “What is it, sweetheart?” Zane asks in a sleepy voice.

  “The chain.”

  “Soon,” he mumbles as his lips kiss my shoulder. “Or never. I haven’t decided yet. It’s quite useful.”

  A tingle spreads across my skin. I push my ass against his hips and his mouth grazes my neck. His arm wraps around me as he draws me closer to him and drives his hard cock into my pussy from behind.

  I love our marriage.

  Zane tumbles me on my stomach and rams into me. Every thrust makes me teeter between pain and pleasure. It’s swift and we both shatter in satisfaction at the same time.

  “Fucking the wife is so good,” Zane huffs. “Now, I need a good sleep.”

  “And I need the toilet.”

  “Later.”

  “Zane,” I moan.

  “Alright.” He crawls out of the bed.

  I use the toilet as he waits outside of the bathroom then he uses the toilet as I wait outside which is kind of weird, but married people probably do so.

  We have another nap, clenched tight as though we’re one body and one breath. Early in the afternoon, I force him to get up and have a shower with me. We can’t stop kissing and touching, but a sudden banging on the front door tears us out of our frenzy.

  We grab our bathrobes, put them on and Zane opens the door. My eyes widen at the sight of Kolya and my father.

  “Malenkaya,” Kolya says as his voice falters. “Where have you been, devotchka?”

  I smile at him and warmth spreads in my chest.

  Kolya hugs me, squeezing the oxygen out of my lungs. He’s always been like a father to me. His own daughter died of leukaemia and I replaced her for him.

  He killed my father’s bull, the one who took my virginity. My father doesn’t know about this. I tried to hide three encounters with another bull, but Kolya discovered it and killed that bull as well. My father doesn’t know about this either. This is why I have no experience in bed. I didn’t want to be like a ‘black widow’. Kolya made it perfectly clear to me that I would be a good girl until somebody took me as his wife.

  My father moves closer to me and wraps his arms around me, kissing the top of my head.

  “Don’t do this again, Brianna,” he says.

  “I won’t, papa, I promise.”

  “I must admit I’m impressed,” my father says.

  “Our devotchka is very smart, don’t you think, Dimitri?” Kolya says.

  “She is,” my father says. “She’s my daughter, after all.”

  Zane gestures for our guests to go to the living room. He pulls the chain and the sound of clinking makes my father grin.

  “The chain is too long, son,” my father says as Kolya erupts into laughter.

  “I will think about it,” Zane says.

  We go to the kitchen to get some snacks and drinks for our guests. I realise that doing things with Zane makes me feel happy.

  As we join our guests, Zane drops into the armchair and sets me on his lap.

  “Enjoying your marriage, son?” my father asks with a
hint of humour.

  “Very much,” Zane says.

  “Good,” my father says. “She’s my little girl. Look after her properly.”

  Kolya empties his shot glass and washes the alcohol down with some coke. “We’ve been very worried, Malenkaya. Very worried. The world is not a safe place.”

  My heart aches at the reproach in his voice. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t do that again,” Kolya says and pours my father a shot.

  “Well,” I start.

  “The family should stay together, devotchka.” Kolya nods at me several times.

  “Well said,” my father says in his usual matter-of-fact tone.

  They stay for ten more minutes, emptying one-third of the bottle of vodka then say their goodbyes.

  “Now what?” I ask as I close the door behind them and walk to the kitchen.

  Zane moves closer to me, removing my robe and tossing it onto the floor. He bunches my wrists behind my back and crushes my lips with his. Euphoria clouds my head. My tummy fills with heat like liquid metal has washed over my insides. I feel Zane manipulate the cuffs and chain as my arms jerk up.

  “You,” I say as surprise rolls over me.

  My hands are cuffed tightly behind my back. I’m naked. My husband glances at me with blazing eyes like he wants to hurt me. His fingers sink into my hair and he gathers it on the back of my neck then pulls it down.

  “I want you on your knees, Brianna.”

  I lower to the floor clumsily as he strips. His hard cock touches my cheek. My eyes flick over his neat pubic hair. He looks good down there.

  Zane holds his cock and strokes it up and down then runs the tip around my mouth, rubbing the precum on my lips and pulling my hair together with his other hand.

  My thighs quiver as my arousal leaks from me.

  “Suck me, Brianna,” he rasps.

  I open my mouth and he pushes his cock in, slamming the head on my throat. I can’t breathe. His cock is filling my mouth entirely.

  Zane holds my head in place and starts thrusting.

  Chapter 14

  Zane

  Her mouth is hot. So hot that my brain melts and my whole being centres on my dick fucking that sweet mouth of hers. I thrust faster, harder. My toes curl as pleasure builds inside me, wave after wave. Having Brianna at my mercy makes me feel insane. I love that feeling. I love punishing her like this.

  She gags as my cock touches her throat. Tears well up in her eyes then trickle down her cheeks, giving her face an unearthly appearance. I’m fucking an angel’s mouth.

  “Breathe, Brianna.” That’s all I can articulate.

  The awareness that I’m doing this to my own wife makes the experience dark and utterly erotic. Consuming like never before even though she has no experience in sucking off a dick.

  I’m on the brink so I slow my thrusts, indulge myself in the sweetness of her mouth for a bit longer then pull out. My body shivers, craves more and darker.

  Brianna takes a sharp breath and chuckles. “Is this what my marriage is going to look like from now on?”

  “Definitely.”

  I kneel behind her and place my palm between her shoulder blades, pushing down so she rests her cheek against the floor. Her ass is in the air, offering me a perfect view of both her openings. My hand grips her hip as I hold my cock, stroking it up and down and then drive it into her hot drenched pussy. I start thrusting, but I’m not gentle. I’m fucking her like an animal, forcing whimpers from her mouth. My cock slams on her cervix with each thrust and I love this feeling. My wife was born to be fucked like this by me, dominated by me. I also love the soft sound of her ass slamming repeatedly into my groin. It’s addictive. I want more and faster.

  The sex is swift.

  I growl my satisfaction and rise into forgetfulness as my muscles strain. My orgasm surges through me violently, burning a memory into my brain. I push in one more time so my wife will be filled with my cum.

  Brianna rolls on her side, still shivering in the aftermath of her orgasm as I try to return to reality from the fog of mine.

  “I know you are still pissed off with me,” she murmurs.

  “I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive.” Reproach coats my voice even though I try to hide it. Something jabs my chest like a thousand needles at the same time.

  “I’m sorry. I will never do this again to you.” Brianna raises her head as I sit on my heels and put my palms on my lap.

  “Swear on God.”

  “I swear on God, Zane. I will be a wife to you. The best I can be. You have my word.”

  Relief washes over me, strips me of energy and makes me feel dizzy for a moment. Then I lean over her, manipulate the cuffs and take the chain off her. She’s so exhausted that she can’t move so I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to our bed. Patches of bright redness mark her knees. There are bruises and scratches on her forearms.

  Uneasiness wafts through me.

  “I like my marriage,” she murmurs and chuckles, twinning her fingers with my hair.

  Good. I want her to enjoy our marriage as much as I enjoy it.

  “I like your hair.” Her voice is so weak that I can barely hear her.

  Good. I thought she would ask me to chop it which I wouldn’t be very happy to do.

  We lie down on our sides. Sleep covers my mind with a thick layer of blackness.

  I wake up as tears leak from the corners of my eyes. I’ve had a nightmare. I couldn’t find Brianna.

  I roll on my side only to discover that my wife is not lying beside me. Coldness runs through my veins. I get up in one motion, slide into my jeans and go to the kitchen, then to the bathroom but I can’t find Brianna anywhere. What the fuck is happening? Why is she not in the apartment?

  I slip into my boots and dart outside with my heart thumping in my ears.

  Pain stabs my chest. She promised me something. I thought she’d made her choice at last. I don’t know whether there is more anger or more despair inside me.

  Why doesn’t she want me to love her?

  I move forward as though I’m tearing my way through a grey fog. The drops of rain prick my naked back like icicles. I pass the chapel and burial ground as my eyes flick over Gunner who is standing by Dash’s grave. He waves his hand at me and focuses on Dash’s stone angel.

  I pass Axel’s garage, my hair drenched, goose bumps popping up all over my skin. My eyes moving in all directions. My heart bleeding.

  Damn it.

  I will twist her neck. Or put her into a damp cell. Or chain her to the wall for life.

  I will never stop loving her.

  I will always find her. I will find her this time as well. There is no fucking way I’m going to give up on her.

  Then Brianna’s blurry figure emerges from behind one of the buildings. My heart stops beating. Weakness spreads inside me as though I have just recovered from a long illness. My knees bend and sit on the pavement with my legs folded and splayed. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than my wife at the moment. Her hair is drenched. Her nipples are hard, visible through the wet white fabric of her dress that clings to her chest. Steam rises around her in translucent streaks and garlands, making her look like that immortal Sive drew for her.

  Brianna runs to me, two bags swinging in her hand. She sits on her heels between my knees splayed.

  “I just wanted to cook something for you,” she says and kisses my lips.

  “I thought—“

  “I’m here, baby. I promised you something, remember?” Her palm strokes my cheek.

  “I thought—“

  “No, don’t think. I’m here. With you. Always.”

  I nod at her and she kisses me. My hand sinks into her hair and I kiss her deeper. My whole love for her centres on that kiss.

  Brianna chuckles into my mouth. “Let’s go home.”

  “Let’s go home.”

  We scramble to our feet then walk slowly, holding hands. The sun’s rays burn our faces and bli
nd us, creating an unearthly dazzling aura around us.

  My fingers entangle Brianna’s as a sense of stability surges through me. We enter our apartment and go the kitchen. Brianna starts cooking, surrounded by the sound of pans clashing and plates banging. I visit the bathroom and return to her only to discover a real horror. Fucking hell, my wife is a horrible cook.

  “I will do this,” I say at the prospect of starving today. Or eating eggshells. Or choking on charred slices of toast. “You can’t cook for shit, woman.”

  She raises her hands in a warding gesture then checks something on my laptop. Music starts to play as I cook breakfast.

  “A Latin dance performance for my husband.” She winks at me. “In return for the lack of cooking skills.”

  “I guess that will do.”

  Her arms rise, forming an arc and her hips sway as my dick twitches in my pants. My wife is moving like a professional dancer. The music is carrying her like the wind is carrying pollen. Passion radiates from her, touches the deepest parts of my being and fills me with fever.

  “Cook,” she says and twirls around, swaying her ass like I’m already inside her.

  “It’s not that easy to focus on cooking when you’re doing such things with your body.”

  “You like it?” She drifts to me, planting a kiss on my shoulder blade, then drifts away.

  “I love it.”

  “I can dance for you every day.”

  I stir the dish in the pan. “Can you do that topless?”

  “Sure.” She pulls her dress over her head and tosses it onto the floor. “Topless enough?”

  “Topless enough.”

  Brianna moves her hips with her palms above her head. I turn off the stove as she floats closer to me and glances down into the pan.

  “Smells delicious,” she says and purrs.

  “You like food, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I like food.”

  I dip a spoon into the pan then pop the food into Brianna’s mouth.

  “Delicious,” she mumbles.

  “I will cook for you every day.”

  Her back moulds against my chest. “You can iron as well. I hate it.”

  “Sure, no problem.” My hand strokes her breast and I pinch her nipple. It hardens at my touch.

  “I love you,” she gasps as I feed her slowly with one hand and caress her breast with the other hand.

 

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