I, Black Sheep

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I, Black Sheep Page 15

by Zara Cox


  He’s so good at this.

  How?

  Who?

  Where?

  When?

  A vicious volt of discomfort rams through me even as his pheromones bombard me. What the hell…

  Recalling the crazy little move that set him alight in his apartment, I nip at his mouth. He jerks beneath me, breaking the kiss to stare deeply into my eyes.

  “There’s my little cherry bomb. Again,” he growls.

  I dive back in, the hands that pushed at his shoulders a minute ago twisting into the leather, folding into the hair at his nape.

  One hand grabs my hip, attempting to situate me more firmly in his lap. My head bumps the roof, and my ass hits the steering wheel. I’m still sideways, the top of my hip cradling the monstrous erection tenting his pants.

  “Fuck it.” He slaps a button, and his door rises into the air. He steps out of the car with me still in his arms. Straightening, he just looks at me. In the still, dark night, the only sound is our ragged breathing and the scurrying of forest creatures. In the air, the scent of maple mingles with earthy spice and a well-oiled engine.

  Stomping around to my side, he sets me down on top of the low roof. A sultry breeze whispers over me while the hood of the expensive car warms my ass.

  All around me, shadows. “What…what are you doing?”

  One firm hand pushes me back onto the hood and holds me down. The ambient glow spilling from inside the car casts enough light for me to see the bald hunger on his face and the menacing hulk of his body.

  My heart leaps into my throat. “Axel…”

  His free hand runs over my body from shoulder to thigh, cupping my breast along the way. A helpless thrill of lust fires through me.

  “I was going to wait till we got back to New York. But then you decided to go ahead and fuck with my mind. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” His hand creeps beneath the T-shirt to grip my upper thigh. His fingers conduct a lazy circle inches from my burning core.

  Sensation sizzles through me. Dark and carnal and so powerful that I can only shake my head.

  Fierce eyes pinned on me, he draws my leg slowly, inexorably, over one shoulder. The T-shirt falls to my waist, exposing my lower half to a summer night and a monster’s regard.

  “Stay.”

  This time I heed the warning. He grabs my other leg and flings it over his shoulder. His hands capture my waist, his thumbs digging into my hipbones. The action causes my hips to jerk upward, offering my scent and sex to him. He looks down, his lips parting in a rough pant.

  “I’m going to shave every wisp of hair off this pussy. Tomorrow,” he rasps. “Right before I eat your bald cunt again. Then you’re going to spend every moment you’re with me without panties. I want this pussy available to me whenever the mood takes me.”

  A strangled sound of raw need erupts from my chest. My hands slide on top of the sleek car, flailing uselessly with nothing to hold on to. I watch his head descend. Slowly. Torturously.

  Then he blows gently on my sex. The sensation is so unexpected, so intensely thrilling that my whole body shudders. Before the tail end of my shiver dies off, his tongue swipes at me.

  Bold. Possessive. Full-on.

  The broad kiss devours me from hole to slit, then his pointed tongue flicks with mind-melting expertise over my clit. Then he repeats the action.

  Sensation rips me wide open. “Oh…Oh…”

  His hands leave my waist, sliding beneath my body to lift my ass off the roof. He holds me effortlessly aloft, his thumbs sliding on either side of my pussy to part me wider.

  He deepens the kiss, savors me so thoroughly, I can’t stop the moans that erupt from my throat. My body, unaccustomed to pleasure on such an intense level, coils with acute anticipation as Axel continues to pleasure me with unrestrained decadence.

  When pre-orgasm wetness slicks my body, I feel him tense for a second before a shudder ripples through him.

  “Fuck!” The curse is torn from his throat. If he had a soul, I would imagine it stemmed from there too.

  His movements grow more feral, his mouth and nose buried deep, scenting and lapping every drop of pleasure from me. The knot in my pelvis coils harder, my back arches off the roof, and I’m ready to detonate. “Oh God!”

  His head snaps up.

  “Cleo.” My name is a sharp bark. I lift my heavy head off the roof. “Look at me. Do not take your eyes off me for one fucking second when you come.”

  “I…okay…please…Axel.”

  “That’s right. You say nothing…scream nothing but my name.”

  “Yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  He licks me again, groans deep as he sucks my whole pussy into his mouth. “Jesus, you taste…fuck.”

  The rush and the roar build to a breaking point. I know I’ll forever be damned for the pleasure I take from the monster who ruined my life. But I can’t think, can’t function beyond the bliss bearing down on me.

  His eyes pin me, absorbing every twitch and tremble, gasp and moan.

  “Axel.” It’s not a scream but a whisper.

  “Fucking give it to me. Everything.”

  “Oh…Oh…Axel.” The deepest, darkest, headiest orgasm rolls through me, singeing me from head to toe. My limbs jerk like puppets, my thighs squeezing the jaws of my psychopathic captor.

  “Yes…holy fuck.” His tongue quickens against me, staying true to his word and lapping up everything I have to give. When his gaze drops from mine, I sag back against the roof. I’m not sure if the stars above me are the real thing or a byproduct of my bliss.

  A minute passes. Two. He eventually trails his lips along one inner thigh, then the other.

  His hands leave my body, and I hear his zipper lowering. My gaze drops as his jacket comes off and is tossed onto the hood. His ripped, superathlete’s body is exposed and framed against the shadowed trees.

  “My turn.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  P OR A

  Oh God.

  I tell myself there’s no way to stop this from happening. That I’m caught between the rock of a merciless father and the hard place of a demon son. But a part of me rebels against that complete damning. The part of me that remembers Axel’s look of anguish when he saw my bruises earlier. His gentle hands as he tended to my ribs.

  I hate the recollection. I don’t want to explore the tiny voice that says he’ll stop if I say no. Because the probability is high that, if that happens, my fate will worsen. My heart rushes to embrace that reasoning. Because given the choice between one devil and another, surely the devil who takes time to draw pleasure from my body before he takes his is better than the one who uses violence?

  I shake my head, quelling the dissenting voices in my head. I know which side is winning. The side that already has me panting on top of his car like a bitch in heat.

  A clack of his belt, then the distinct sound of another zipper lowering.

  He pulls my knees up and apart, exposing me more widely to the night air and his gaze. For a long moment, he stares down at me, one hand pushing his pants and boxers off his hips.

  I look down as his cock springs free. My mouth dries. I’m not sure if time and distance has distorted my memory but the boy I knew and the man I’m looking at could be two separate beings.

  Because where the Axel of youth and imagination was seriously impressive, the man before me is dauntingly overwhelming.

  Even without the benefit of adequate lighting, his length and thickness trigger a quivering deep in my belly. As I watch, he grabs and strokes his cock with his left hand, slowly, lazily from root to tip. The drop of pre-cum that pools at his crown catches on his forefinger and is spread along his length on a downward stroke, leaving the underside of his heavy rod glistening.

  The word tattooed on his arm ripples with intent as hooded eyes climb up my body to my face, his hand still leisurely pumping his cock.

  “Take off the shirt,” he orders, his voice pulsing with power and need.


  My hands are heavy as I move to obey. Somehow I get it off, idly sense it sliding down the hood to join his leather jacket.

  Fully exposed to the elements, my nipples harden to painful nubs.

  His lips part, and I catch the hungry flick of his tongue over his lower lip as his gaze latches on to them. “Cup those tits for me,” he rasps. “Offer them to me. I want to taste.”

  My hands slide beneath the heavy globes, and my moan catches me off guard. An existence steeped in unrelenting fear and bleakness doesn’t leave much room for exploring one’s own body, and I can barely contain the new sensations drowning me. Heart slamming against my ribs, I squeeze and lift my breasts to him.

  He falls forward, one hand braced on the hood as he lowers his head. His tongue swirls over my areola for charged, mindless seconds before he sucks the tip hard into his mouth. The power of his suction hollows his cheeks. Within his warm mouth, he flicks his tongue against the sensitive peak, driving me out of my mind.

  When I imagine I’m about to explode, he transfers his attention to the other peak, repeats the madness. Back and forth, he ravages my breasts. Mouth, tongue, teeth collude to drive me insane. Between my legs, my slickness intensifies, my clit screaming with the need for attention.

  As if he senses it, his cock nudges against me. Apprehension ramps up high. He’s big. Too big.

  “Axel…I…”

  He lets go of one nipple, kisses his way to the other straining peak. “Shh. This is happening, baby. No turning back now.”

  Despite the dark promise, he doesn’t enter. Instead he slides his broad length up through my gathering cream. The engorged veins circling the underside of his cock bump over my clit. Over and over, until I feel my liquid mess coat my ass.

  That’s when he pulls back a fraction, and his fingers find me. He caresses my hole for a handful of seconds before one finger slides into my snug channel.

  I gasp at the alien sensation while, above me, the considerable resistance he meets produces a vicious hiss.

  “Fucking Christ, you’re tighter than a goddamn drum.” He pulls out, and pushes back in.

  My breath strangles in my throat, and my eyes begin to roll.

  “Eyes on me,” he commands from between clenched teeth as he pulls back out.

  Our gazes lock. I glimpse rapacious hunger. Barely leashed control. And a looming question I don’t want to answer.

  He finger-fucks me with single-minded intent, his eyes consuming my every reaction. His mouth returns to my breast, his tongue wickedly lapping at my nipples as he adds one finger and attempts to slide them both into me.

  My body jerks at the pressure.

  “Stay still.”

  I swallow a fresh dose of trepidation. “I…can’t.”

  He tries again. My slickness eases his way, but the pressure knocks the breath from me.

  Dear heaven, if he can’t get inside me with his fingers, how on earth am I going to take his cock?

  As if he hears my wild thought, he curses again. “Not fucking you isn’t an option, Cleo. So you need to stop tensing up.” The bite of frustration in his voice tells me he’s reaching the edge of his endurance.

  His fingers move again. Deep. Deeper. He twists his digits and strokes upward. Electricity zaps me from ankle to temple, and my hands fall away from my breasts.

  An unholy gleam enters his eyes as he repeats the action. My startled cry precedes a rushing sensation that feels like an orgasm. But not.

  “Motherfucker, did you just gush?” His voice is strangled, his nostrils flared wider than I’ve ever seen them.

  A different heat engulfs my face. “I…don’t know. I’ve never…”

  “You’ve never?” Rabid eyes dig into me, demanding the truth.

  I shake my head immediately, cringing when I feel the liquid spread. “No. I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  A harsh, incredulous laugh barks from him. “You’re fucking sorry?”

  “Please—Argh!”

  A cunning twist of his fingers and electricity sizzles again, setting me aflame. The rush barrels through my pelvis again. Soaks his fingers.

  “Jesus Christ.” His eyes squeeze shut a second before his head drops between my breasts. His body expands on rough, choppy breaths.

  What is happening? “Axel?”

  The sound he makes as he lifts his head is pure wild animal, the look in his eyes frenzied as his beast rises. Rough hands hook under my knees and grip my hips to drag me to the edge of the roof. With my ass hanging over the edge, he rests his steel-hard cock against me.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. This is going to hurt.” The apology is couched in raw, unwavering intent.

  Even with a dozen armies, I know I won’t be able to stop him. The shrieking voice inside mocks my feeble attempt to deny that I want this too.

  His broad head pushes into me, his hands bearing me down to receive him. Pain slashes through pleasure, iron-hot and spine-stiffening. My scream rips through the night.

  “Fuck!”

  My head jerks from side to side, and I throw out bracing hands. “No, Axel. I can’t.”

  He freezes, loud breaths tearing from his throat. Then he leans forward until our lips are an inch apart, our eyes fused. “You’re going to take me, Cleo. Right here. I’ll leave the choice to you whether I stay in your pussy or take your ass. But one way or the other, I’m coming inside you.”

  Before I can respond, he’s kissing me. Deep, carnal. Mind melting. His hips don’t move, and the tip of his cock stays buried inside me. My hands are braced on his chest as the deep, erotically charged kiss continues.

  I don’t recall commanding them, but my hands move. Explore hot, rippling muscle. His strong neck. The thick, silky hair at his nape. I can barely think when he kisses his way along my jaw, down my throat, and up to my ear.

  “Pussy.” Deep voice wrapped with hard arousal. “Or ass.”

  The idea of all that relentless power in my back channel makes me shudder with an emotion I can’t swear is one hundred percent terror. My already stretched pussy clenches tight around him, a shocking, greedy ripple starting deep inside.

  His teeth sink into the curve of my shoulder. Hard enough to leave a mark. “Fucking do that again and all bets are off,” he warns with a guttural rasp.

  “Axel—”

  “Pussy. Or ass.”

  The rippling intensifies, aided by the hunger building with each second. A whimper falls from my lips. He devours it with his own lips then raises his head to pierce me with fierce eyes.

  My time is up. I’m nowhere near ready to take him with any other part of my body than where he already is.

  “P…pussy,” I stutter.

  He pounces on the word, kissing it straight from my lips.

  I hold my breath. But he’s still not satisfied. Because seconds drag by and he doesn’t move.

  “Wh—what?”

  “Say it again, Cleo. Beg me to fuck your pussy.”

  Echoes of the past sprinkle across my fevered mind. But where his demand for dirty words was glazed with mirth when we were young, every atom of his being is deadly serious right now.

  I don’t want to beg. A part of me wants to look back on this moment and absolve myself of this madness.

  But where discomfort reigned, dirty anticipation and raw hunger smash through, digging their vicious claws in. When my hips roll of their own accord, he hisses.

  The arms hooked beneath my knees spread me wider. “Say it!”

  “Fuck me! I want you to fuck my pussy,” I blurt in a surrendering rush.

  Pain wrapped in unforgettable pleasure wrapped in raw lightning. That is the only way I can describe the feel of Axel plowing into me.

  My scream blisters my throat. His animal grunt summons the beast. He waits a measly handful of seconds for me to adjust to his monstrous size before he withdraws and thrusts back inside me.

  “Sweet mother, you feel unreal,” he groans through a shudder.

  I want to confess that yes, I feel un
real. That nothing about this should feel okay. In my heart of hearts, I know it’s not. The loathing that has fuelled my existence for so long hasn’t disappeared. It’s just buried beneath the monumental tsunami of pleasure rolling through me.

  As soon as he’s done, as soon as I find my voice and brain again, all will be well. Until then…

  He fucks me with savage, exquisite expertise, each thrust yanking me to a higher plane of bliss. My body slides across the hood until my head hangs over the driver’s door. With a growl, he pulls me back down until my ass is over the edge again. He clutches my buttocks and guides me onto the relentless power of his cock.

  Through the haze of pleasure, I look down, and my breath catches at the sight of his cock sliding inside me.

  The strangled little sound I make seems to turn him on. Unbelievably, he thickens further inside me. One hand slides between the hood and my lower back, holding me still.

  “You like that, baby? Like seeing your tight little pussy devouring my cock? You like seeing me sweat just to get half of my cock inside you?”

  Although the sex was phenomenal, filthy talk never featured in our adolescent coupling, except for that one night in the gazebo, the night I received a taste of the real Axel and chose to ignore it. Hearing the vulgar words fall from his lips, I’m ashamed by the extra kick of electricity they deliver to my body.

  I catch my lip between my teeth before I blurt out the yes scrambling up my throat.

  “Not gonna answer, huh?” he asks after a dozen lethal pumps hurl me to the edge. “Watch me, then. Watch me make it so you can’t fucking walk tomorrow without feeling me inside you.”

  He drags me lower, urgent hands yanking my hips to meet his rough penetration.

  “Axel!” My flailing hands find his shoulders. My nails dig in, desperate for something to hang on to as my world begins to disintegrate around me. “Oh God…I’m…I’m coming!”

  “Yes.” The single word is yelled through clenched teeth, his piston-fast orchestration of our lower bodies hurtling us at lightning speed toward combustion. Ecstasy bursts out of me in a million sparks of energy, dragging an endless scream from my soul.

 

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