by Naomi West
“He’s crazy, not stupid, Ivy.”
Her tongue snaked out from between her lips to wet them, her eyes darting around the room again. She took in the dark rooms with their thick, brown carpets and the dark exposed wood of the walls. Her eyes ran over the two pieces of furniture in this room, then over the little bed for Josh in the far room. Walking over to the kitchenette, she studied every room of my tiny little temporary home. “So, am I supposed to stay here with you two?”
“For now,” I said gruffly, hoping she wouldn’t say no. I was pretty sure my balls would be blue forever if she refused.
“I’m just wondering how I’ll ever get any sleep,” Ivy whispered, stepping into the circle of my arms to press her lips to mine.
And suddenly, I was ravenous. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself any longer. It was like the taste of her mouth tore all of my inhibitions and hesitation away. It was like a cage being lifted off of an animal that lived inside of me. An animal I hadn’t known existed until Ivy walked into my life.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ivy
He came back for me. I couldn’t believe it. Everything around me felt like a dream that I couldn’t wake from; it was all so surreal. I expected to wake up at any moment, still locked up in Carlos’ hideout. Why had he changed his mind?
But I couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around it, no matter how much I tried. Creed had actually claimed me as his own woman, in front of the whole Devil’s Edge, went against Kelly’s orders, just to come back for me. My mouth went dry at the thought. Why had he sacrificed so much for someone so brittle and useless?
I could see by the look in his eyes that he intended me to pay him back, and my body agreed wholeheartedly. I wanted Creed so bad that I was aching, my panties dripping with the idea of having him again.
His arms wrapped around me close, pulling my body into his. I wrapped one leg around him, trying to pull him past my clothing and my skin and into my body. I wanted him hard. I wanted him now.
I was in love with him.
My nails biting into his flesh, I cried out as he buried his face against my neck, biting and suckling until my skin felt like it was burning with pain and desire. He lifted me off of the ground, slamming me back into the wall. Too hard. I could feel my blood boiling at the mix of pleasure and pain coursing through my body. The feeling of Creed’s body pressed hard against mine had haunted every second of my life since the first time he had me.
Throbbing with desire, I arched hard against him as he ground against me, his lips tracing lines of fire across my shoulders, my neck, and my chin. I wanted this to go on forever, this hard, aching, burning, teasing.
Creed pulled me away from the wall, carrying me into the bedroom and slamming me down onto the bed. He kicked the door closed, his eyes devouring me like he was a starving man given a feast. I wanted everything that gaze promised and more. So very much more.
Creed walked over to the bed, darkness and daring in his eyes as he grabbed a hold of my sweater with both fists, pulling me off of the bed. “Take it all off,” he demanded, fire in his beautiful gray eyes.
I shivered under that gaze. He watched me like a hawk watching his prey as I slid out of my clothing. I suddenly felt unbelievably shy; perhaps I was just afraid that I would somehow disappoint that fiery gaze. But his hungry eyes didn’t waver, but grew ever hungrier, until he looked like a wild animal rather than a human.
I shook, half in fear, half in delight that I could do this to him.
“My woman,” he whispered under his breath. A shiver slithered down my spine at the raw lust in his voice. I wanted everything he was.
He stood, his hands reaching for my body. They were warm and rough against my skin as his fingers brushed over my sides, tracing the outlines of my ribs. I gasped as they wandered delicately over my breasts, around my collarbones, and so gently down my arms. Everywhere he touched quivered with anticipation, goosebumps rising along the paths his fingers followed. Those delightfully gentle fingers slid back up my arms.
As fast as lighting, his right hand wrapped hard enough around my neck to bruise me. I cried out with what little air I had left, tears biting the edges of my eyes as he tossed me to the bed. I fell to my stomach, gasping hard and relearning to breathe as he mounted me from behind. I wasn’t ready for him when he thrust inside of me.
I screamed, pleasure and pain swirling inside of me until I couldn’t tell one from the other. Creed grabbed my hands, pulling my arms behind my back and he rode me, hard and fast, pushing my face harder and harder into the musty-smelling blanket.
But it was everything I wanted. A small, high-pitched voice was crying out for more, begging for it. It took me whole moments to realize that begging voice was mine.
I would always lose this battle against him; his strength was absolute and took over me before I could even begin to contemplate fighting. But I desperately wanted to lose. I wanted him to hurt me, to use me hard, and take whatever he wanted. It felt too good to stop. His cock was so massive, I could feel the head of him slamming into the top of me, but it hurt so good. My shoulders creaked and groaned as he pulled harder on my arms, forcing my ass higher in the air and he plumbed my depths.
I could feel the friction of our bodies colliding wearing me down. The wave of my climax was rising ever higher, threatening to overwhelm me, to crush me under a massive tsunami of pleasure. I wanted it. I slammed my hips back against his, moving in time with his vicious thrusts.
When I came, I screamed again, and my voice cracked and broke. The whole world crumbled away to blackness and nothing; only the rough sounds of my breathing and the feel of Creed inside of me could push past the haze of pleasure that infused my entire being.
His hands felt like sandpaper on my hips as he grabbed me, pushing me down onto the bed with his undeniable strength. I wanted more; I begged for it, even as a shook from the force of my first orgasm. Panting and dripping wet, I sobbed, “Creed, please!” I didn’t even know what I was begging for, but I wanted it.
Creed’s wild eyes were dark and wild as he stared down at me. He was naked, his cock still hard and dripping with everything he’d done to me. I wanted more. I wanted to feel him like a rock inside of me, riding me hard into orgasm over and over again.
But much to my surprise, he grinned at me wickedly for a moment before diving at my dripping wet pussy with his mouth.
I nearly died when his tongue found my center, throbbing and aching and trembling with aftershocks. He traced patterns over the core of me, his tongue sliding up over and around my clit like he was licking an ice cream cone. Hard, rough fingers slid inside of me as I grasped onto his head, pulling his mouth harder into me. My hips undulated with the caresses of his tongue, each lick plucking taut strings low in my belly. I mewled into time with his fingers, my head thrown back against the comforter.
The air felt cold against my nipples, so hard they could cut glass. My hair slid down over my shoulders as I writhed, feeling like a thousand fingertips sliding over my super-sensitized skin. The comforter felt scratchy and rough under my body. Every inch of me could feel and sensation was heightened in every centimeter of my skin.
Slowly, Creed slid his fingers out of my pussy. Using the slick, salty juices to lubricate me, he slid them into my back door as he continued to eat me out, his mouth working at a frantic pace. His fingers stretched that other hole, the one that had never been entered before, and the pain and pleasure of it all swirled in my head until I was dizzy with it.
Grinning like a madman, Creed stood, filled his palm with something sitting beside the bed that looked like hand lotion. He slicked it over his rock hard cock, staring down at me as he caressed his manhood.
A pang of fear filled my belly. I wasn’t sure that his enormous, throbbing member would fit inside of my back door. But I really, really wanted to try. Licking my lips as a shiver of nervousness fluttered through my being, I watched as the most beautiful man laid between my legs.
He entered me slo
wer this time, easing into this new experience with a kind of gentle deftness I didn’t expect. It hurt, oh it hurt so gloriously that I gasped and cried out and clawed at him. But it also felt deliciously naughty and dangerously good. I wanted to feel the entire length and breadth of him inside of me again.
I screamed his name again, begging and pleading into the close air. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see around the swirling pleasure that shook every nerve. He pressed all the way inside of me, and I could feel myself expanding and full. He was unimaginably huge inside of me. It felt so good I could barely breathe. I clawed the sheets. “Creed, please, harder. I need you!”
But he was not to be moved. He slid inside of me, wet and slippery, at his own pace. He fit all of the way in, even though I felt like I was splitting in half. And then he pulled his slow, agonizing way out.
I stared into his eyes, hooded with the pleasure of feeling me from this new angle. I like that I could do that to him, that I could make him feel that good. It filled me with a wicked pleasure like I had never known.
He moved deeper. The angle changed, and the depths he plundered me sharpened. Pain blurred my vision for a second, tears spilling from my eyes as he continued his long, slow movements. It was torture, it was pleasure, the two melting into one another. I was boiling, I was ice, I was pain, and I was lust. I couldn’t imagine life without Creed inside of me anymore; everything else seemed so disconnected to my current reality. Creed’s wicked, dark eyes and the length of his manhood slipping in and out of me were all that mattered.
Short fingernails caressed my skin, scratching the surface. He dove into me again, exciting raw and carnal noises from my throat I didn’t know I could make. There was a wicked grin on his perfect, beautiful mouth as he looked down at me. “I’m going to come inside your ass, Ivy,” he whispered, the sandpaper sound of his voice caressing all the places his hands didn’t touch. “And you are going to come, too. Understand?”
Biting my lip, I nodded. My whole body already ached with the desire to please him. His thumb came between us, the rough skin of him brushed hard over my clit, sending rivers of beautiful quivering through every nerve of my being. He caressed me as he fucked me, his speed building until I thought I might break in half, shattered into pieces at the next thrust. Fiery, burning pain seared through every thought.
Suddenly, Creed slowed, that wild, half-beast look his eyes growing even more wild. With heavy hands, he latched onto my shoulders. There was something close to madness in his face as he leaned forward and plunged into my ass so hard. I cried and cried out, tears slipping down my cheeks even as I rocked against him, demanding and full.
“Not yet, Ivy. You will come when I tell you,” Creed ordered, his voice steady through the madness on his beautiful face. “You are so perfect.”
But could no longer hear him. I was lost in sensation, riding him as hard as he rode me.
When we shattered, we shattered together, pieces of light exploding in our vision as the whole world crashed to the floor as Creed’s feet. He cried out something unknowable and strange, a language known only to a perfect orgasm a long time in coming. The same sound ripped from my own throat as we floated down from our high together, tangled in a mess on the bed.
And for that second, the world was perfect.
Chapter Thirty
Creed
“You look better. Find someone to take your frustrations out on?” Bax teased, turning to face me as he took a long sip of his beer.
Frowning, grabbing my own beer from his six-pack and didn’t answer. But I sat down next to him. I didn’t want to talk about Ivy. I didn’t even want to think about her, but I wanted to see Bax. He had been my best friend for years; perhaps it was odd to think of big, tough biker in a gang to have a best friend, but Bax was that. He’s gotten me out of more than one scruff. I’d trust him at my back through anything. I’d never had a brother, but if I had, I’d want him to be just like Bax. Perhaps I wouldn’t have ended up in this shit hole if I’d had someone like him on the outside growing up.
Then I thought of the day my father died and wasn’t so sure.
Sensing I didn’t want to talk about Ivy, Bax changed the subject. “How was our friend Carlos?”
“Batshit insane, as usual.” That guy with his cold, dead eyes even gave me the shivers when I was being honest with myself. Which I was doing an awful lot of today. Something about Ivy and--
No, don’t think about Ivy. I don’t need her shit. I don’t how long I can afford to keep her around. Why did I try so hard to save her life? Why had it been so important? I thought back to the amazing sex we’d just had; she literally let me do anything I wanted to her, and she liked it just as rough as I did. Just thinking about her blushing, her legs spread to me, her eyes hooded with mischievous pleasure-filled--
Nope, don’t think of Ivy. But it wasn’t just the crazy, hard sex. The kind of sex that tore sheets and put holes in walls. No, it was something more than that. The kind of soft spot that made men do stupid things. What am I going to do?
I had to push those thoughts away, though. Ivy would be Ivy’s problem and no one else’s soon. For her own sake and the sake of my sanity, I had to get rid of her. Fast.
I glanced over at Bax, then around the room to see if anyone was close by. “Carlos wants to meet. Says either I come to terms with them or the Carrion Club is going to team up with some of the other boys and invade, coming after Kelly.”
“He said that?” Bax whispered back, his hands clutched too tight around his bottle. I knew what he was feeling; an all-out battle between the Edge and Carrion would be a bloodbath. It would put everything we’d built and loved in jeopardy, including our people, my child, and the club itself. Carrion might not survive it either. “Shit.”
I nodded, sipping on the beer. It was disgusting; some cheap American thing, but it was cold. And beggars couldn’t be choosers, so I swallowed it down without complaint.
“What should we do?”
“The way I see it,” I said, staring into the dark, brown glass of my beer bottle, “we have three choices. We can tell Kelly.”
“That will bring the cartel in force into our turf to defend it, most likely. They’ll send an army.” We were both silent for a long moment. We both knew what that meant too; once the army was here, none of them would ever leave. They would most likely take over the Edge without anyone lifting a finger against them.
“We can not tell Kelly,” I said, bile rising in my stomach. Those words felt like betrayal in my mouth. It would lead to all of our deaths, most likely.
Every choice seemed to end in the death of the Devil’s Edge. Except one.
“Or, we work with Carlos and get Kelly overturned, running the cartel out of town and putting a new leader in his place.” I was gripping my beer so hard I expected it to shatter under my fingers.
Bax stared at me, his mouth gaping and his eyes incredulous. “Creed, those are some dangerous words.”
“Just words, Bax.”
“Still dangerous! I’ve been a fan of opposing this whole cartel thing from the beginning, but what you’re talking about, getting rid of Kelly...” He shook his head. “You’ll end up like your pa.”
I nodded, my head suddenly feeling heavy. “I know, Bax. I just don’t know what the best thing to do is anymore. Every choice feels like a bad one, and it’s Kelly that got us here. Kelly and that Christine woman.” She was still probably wrapped around his leg like a serpent, dripping poison into his ear as Bax and I spoke.
I wanted to ring her neck, that conniving bitch. Where had she gotten hold of Kelly in the first place?
Bax was silent for a long time. He finished his beer, then drank another. He seemed to be considering my words carefully, weighing out all of the possible futures. And from his expressions, all of them looked really bleak.
“How is the club recovering?” I asked, unable to stand the silence anymore. I wanted to stop the rush of images inside of my mind. I pictured Josh, hiding beh
ind some bikes in the corner of the clubhouse, his tiny chocolate eyes going dark and empty as he watched Kelly rip my throat out. Just as I had watched my father die. What would become of him? But worse, what if I did nothing, and the cartel came for us all? Was that a kinder end? I didn’t think it was.
“The rebuilding is going well enough. It won’t go anywhere if we’re trying to hold off an army, though.” Bax pressed his head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. He seemed to be deep in thought, still, his mind not really on the current conversation.
Not that I can blame him; I did just drop some bad news in his lap. News none of us want to hear.
Rubbing his face with his hands, Bax turned and looked at me, his eyes searching my face in a way that made me uncomfortable. “Maybe you’re right, Creed,” he said unwillingly, his face a tangle of emotions. “Those things you’re saying, don’t let anyone else hear them. Not even Pearl. Not your son. Keep them to yourself; you probably shouldn’t have even told me.”