Silas (Dirty Aces MC Book 4)

by Lane Hart

  “You really think you want me to stay here in the house with you?” he asks.

  “Yes! Just a little longer. It’s a big house, and I don’t want to be alone, so whatever it takes to convince you to stay…”

  The air is knocked out of my lungs a second later when Sam suddenly moves, slamming my back against the foyer wall. His much bigger body presses against the front of mine so tightly that his chest prevents mine from taking a full deep breath when I gasp in surprise at his attack. Still, I find myself unconsciously gripping his muscular shoulders, trying to pull him even closer.

  “Whatever it takes, huh? You sure about that?” His voice deepens with a promise of something dark, his lips invitingly close. I wet mine with my tongue to get ready for his mouth, which I hope is just as dominating as the rest of his body.

  “Y-yes.”

  “How about I show you the only thing I would want from you three times a day?” he asks. His large palm somehow wedges between our bodies. I suck in all the oxygen in the room when he cups my sex possessively through the thin fabric of my dress and panties. “Ah, there it is,” he whispers as he rubs me a few rough times through the layers before snaking his hand up my dress then down into the front of my panties to get to my bare flesh. My head falls back, hitting the wall hard when I moan in response to his thick fingers invading me a second later. Yes! This is exactly what I wanted from him!

  “Fuck three times a day,” he grumbles, his chest rising and falling faster and faster while his dark eyes hold mine captive, his lips still hovering nearby but refusing to close the distance. I would do it myself, but my entire body is frozen in place, glued to the wall from head to toe thanks to the way his fingers are now moving in and out of me, slowly but very deliberately. “I would want this tight, wet pussy whenever my dick gets hard. You going to give it to me if I stay?”

  “Yes,” I squeak out, barely above a whisper.

  “What was that?” he asks, tilting his ear to my lips while he keeps shoving his fingers in and out of me so good my thighs are clenching around his hand, fists tightening on his shoulders as I get closer and closer to getting off.

  “Yes!” I exclaim when my inner walls quiver with the beginnings of an orgasm…just before Sam completely removes his fingers from my sex. My body sags in disappointment at the sudden loss. I want more! Why did he stop?

  Both hands now flattening on the wall next to my head, close enough for me to smell my arousal on them, he leans down and runs his tongue and then teeth along the line of my neck, making me shiver with need before he says, “You don’t know what you’re asking for. Remember what I said about not trusting anyone? That applies to me too. I’m not the man you think I am.”

  “S-sure you are. And…and I want you.”

  “What if I told you I would fuck you so hard I’d leave bruises all over your body?” he asks.

  Swallowing around the lump in my throat at the thought of rough sex with him, I say, “I’ll heal.”

  “And if I do more than leave bruises?”

  “You-you can’t talk me out of this, so stop trying,” I tell him, running my palms down his chest. I push his suit jacket down his arms and off, then start to undo the first button on his shirt before moving on to the second. “Do whatever you want to me. I can take it. Please, Sam?”

  “Whatever I want?” he repeats when I undo his third button to get my fingertips on his bare chest, running them through his soft patch of hair.

  “Yes. I trust you.”

  “You better be glad I don’t have a condom with me. If I did, I would fuck your pretty little brains out right now, leaving marks that last for days to show you just how wrong you are about me.”

  “But…I’m on the pill,” I say. “Have been for years,” I assure him since protection seems to be his biggest concern for why he won’t just give in to this already. “I trust you,” I say again.

  When Sam doesn’t move away or show any reaction to my suggestion, I reach down and cup the bulge in the front of his pants, giving his hard shaft a squeeze that earns me a masculine grunt as he thrusts into my grip. Before he gets any bigger, I find the button at his waist and pop it, then tug the zipper down to free him, getting even wetter when I realize he’s not wearing underwear. And god, he’s big! I’m about to wrap my fingers around all that long, thick, velvety steel when Sam grabs my hips and spins me around to face the wall.

  “This is just me fucking you for the hell of it because you’re begging for it,” he growls next to my ear as his hurried hands hike my dress up to my waist, then jerk my panties down my legs. “Nothing else. Got it?”

  “Yes,” I gasp, getting the gist of his words – if he stays, and, God, I hope he does, it’ll only be to use me, my body, not because he cares if I’m scared to be alone or worried about me.

  Sam’s fingers curl arounds my hip and dig in harshly, yanking it backward while the other hand is busy rubbing the head of his cock between my damp folds teasingly. I expect him to ease in one slow inch at a time like most men would do. Instead, he simply slams all the way inside to the hilt, making me cry out at the combined pain and pleasure of the welcome invasion. There’s no time to adjust to his girth either. Grabbing my ponytail and yanking it backward so that my back is arched, Sam keeps his bruising grip on my hip and then rams his cock in and out of me like a crazed maniac.

  I’ve never been fucked so viciously in my life and had no idea what I was missing. My whimpers and gasps seem to make him even more frantic as my fingernails claw at the wall, trying to find something to hold on to. Sam’s hot, panting breaths beside my neck are interrupted with an occasional grunt and growled swear word. He’s nothing like the cool professional he’s been since the moment we met. No, this Sam is wild and out of control, nothing like I expected and everything I needed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Silas

  * * *

  Why couldn’t she just let me walk out the door so I can get off this goddamn island?

  God knows I didn’t want to leave. No, I’ve wanted this, to bury myself inside of her cunt and make her scream since the moment I walked in on her changing. But I resisted until about five minutes ago.

  My breaking point was her trust. No woman has ever put any trust in me before. This good guy act is really paying off. In fact, I think I could get used to it if it means getting inside Cora again. She’s tight and soaking wet, so hot and fucking perfect. I haven’t been bareback in a woman in almost ten years. I forgot how amazing it felt, how much better it is. Without a condom in the way, I can feel every incredible inch of her slick pussy. It’s making me crazy with the need to shove deeper, harder.

  And as long as I keep one of my hands busy holding her in place by her hip, and the other pulling her hair, I won’t be able to wrap my fingers around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.

  That shit is bound to happen eventually. Murdering those corrupt men at Harold Cox’s…it’s like they were a gateway drug. It’s probably only a matter of time before I snap and start taking out innocent women too. It’s a sickness I inherited. Taking lives, pretending like I’m some kind of god. It’s in my blood. I denied it right up and until the night I pulled the trigger on a man. It was easier and more enjoyable than I ever expected.

  But killing Cora is the last thing on my mind right now.

  No, I already want to be inside of her again, and I haven’t even come for the first time! I need to keep her breathing. If I try and restrain myself, keep pretending to be a halfway decent law enforcement agent, maybe she’ll let me have another go.

  “Oh! Oh God!” Cora’s cries get louder and louder with each of my punishing thrusts. I can’t tell if I’m hurting her or not, but she’s making me feel like a fucking deity more than I ever did with blood on my hands. I couldn’t fucking stop even if my life depended on it.

  Apparently, she doesn’t mind the rough handling after all. Her pussy is squeezing around me, pulling me in deeper and…oh fuck, milking me dry. She comes on my coc
k with screams that could bring the island cops to the door. The neighbors are bound to assume I am murdering her.

  “Yes! Yes! YESSS!” Her affirmative shrieks make it clear that she’s enjoying herself, though, despite my brutal treatment. She likes bad boys, told me so herself. Now I fucking believe her.

  When I’m spent, my balls drained and cock sated but still hard, I sag forward against Cora, pressing her harder into the wall. I finally let go of her hair to grip the other side of her hip, looking down at her sexy ass. I watch as my slippery cock slowly slides all the way out before shoving it back inside of her again a few more times, loving the sight of my cum leaking out of her pussy, dripping down her thighs.

  I knew when I attacked her this could go one of two ways. One, she would slap me and tell me to stop, that she changed her mind. Or two, she would actually let me have her as rough and dirty as I wanted her.

  I’m not stupid. I know why Cora offered herself up to me. She doesn’t want to be alone because she thinks her life is still in danger.

  The poor girl doesn’t understand that by keeping me here, even for an extra hour, she’s putting her life on the line. I took advantage of her, used her weakness, her fear, to finally fuck her. I don’t even feel guilty since I’ve done so much worse. If there is a hell, my name has been on the list for a long damn time, so why should I try to act better now when being bad feels this fucking good?

  Except, the carefully balanced scales I prefer to maintain when it comes to screwing a woman are now off kilter. Cora gave me something, she let me use her body without asking for anything in return other than my company. She wants me to stay with her, and I can’t. I hate being indebted to anyone, especially a woman. Fucking has to be a transaction, a simple give and take, or else it starts to mean something more to one of the participants. The last thing I want is to owe Cora, or for her to think sex with me means more than a physical act.

  That concern is why I finally force myself to pull my cock out of her warmth and take a step back. Cora gradually slides down the wall to the floor, landing on her knees, the skirt of her dress puddling around her.

  “That was…that was…” she starts, but I don’t wait for her to finish.

  “It wasn’t bad.” I don’t want her putting any sort of labels on what we did. It was sex. Plain and simple. Not amazing and definitely not earth-shattering. I’ve had better. Haven’t I? Hell, I’m sure I have, but I just can’t seem to recall a specific time off the top of my head. That’s the thing about paying for sex, it’s never anything close to extraordinary, which is how I prefer to keep it. Never again do I want it to be so good with one woman that I miss it when she’s gone.

  Finally, I come up with an idea for payment…

  “I’m going to go buy you a phone,” I announce while zipping my spent dick back up in my pants. The several hundred-dollar device is well worth the cost of fucking Cora bareback. I don’t care if I have to leave the island and drive a hundred miles to find one. It’s the least I can do for nearly pulling her hair out and no doubt leaving bruises on her hip. Not to mention the damage I probably did to the inside of her. Or the additional damage I’m already looking forward to inflicting on her again later.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cora

  * * *

  One minute Sam is inside of me, and the next he’s out the door, leaving me in a boneless pile on the floor.

  At least he said he would be back.

  Everything happened so fast that I’m grateful for the time alone to try and let my head catch up to what just happened to my body.

  My sex is still clenching around emptiness, seeking out the source that gave it so much pleasure. I need to go to the bathroom and clean up the mess leaking out of me, but I don’t think my legs will work just yet.

  As far as first times with a man go, that was…memorable, to say the least. I just wish I knew where we stand. Sam’s coming back, but is he going to stay tonight or leave once he brings me the phone he promised?

  And why did he suddenly have the urge to go and get me a phone right after we finished?

  That man is so confusing.

  Except, I shouldn’t be confused since he made it clear that he was only fucking me because I begged for it. I need to take that statement at face value. If he stays, it’s because he expects more sex. I know that. I’m the one who basically suggested it. At the moment it sounded like a pretty good trade – his companionship in exchange for letting him inside me whenever he wants.

  The truth is, I feel safe with Sam around. Maybe I don’t have anything to worry about here on the island, but I feel better with him nearby.

  And if sex with him means getting more of those incredible orgasms, well, I’m all in. That was the first time I ever came during intercourse. Can’t say that I’ve ever had sex standing up against a wall either.

  Except, now that I think about, he never kissed me. Not even once. That’s always what comes first. I’ve never slept with a man I haven’t at least kissed a few times first.

  I’m not sure what came over me, why I offered myself up like that other than I’m desperate.

  It’s nice having someone helping me, looking after me, even if he doesn’t care about me and is just doing his job.

  Silas

  * * *

  There was a store that sold phones on the island; but after making the purchase, I take my time before going back to the house. I somehow find myself buying some clothes, a pair of khakis, another white button up, and a plain black tee, since I’m apparently staying on the island a little longer and my suit is in desperate need of dry cleaning. Will I stick around another day? Maybe two? I don’t fucking know how long I’m going to stay yet. However long it takes until I get bored fucking Cora or she revokes her offer. It shouldn’t be long on my end, not when I’ll feel obligated to shell out more cash every time I bang her brains out.

  For a split second, I consider calling Malcolm to give him an update, figuring the police are about to report Cora missing, but then I think better of it. I have no doubt what our president will tell me – come home.

  And since I’m not ready to go home yet, I don’t make the call, simple as that. Malcolm will probably be pissed, but I don’t care right now, not when I’m still flying high on the after-sex endorphins. I didn’t hurt Cora the first time – at least nothing major, so I’m sure I could fuck her a few more times without completely breaking her.

  She thought I was a good guy sent to save her.

  Wonder what she thinks now that I treated her like a fuck toy.

  Guess I’m about to find out.

  The door to the beach house is surprisingly unlocked when I return, so she hasn’t locked me out yet. I gave her the only set of keys. So, if she doesn’t want me to come in, I won’t kick in the door to get to her. I’ll take the hint and walk away.

  As soon as I take my first step inside, I smell something good cooking.

  “You came back,” Cora says when she turns around, wiping her hands on a towel as I stroll toward the kitchen.

  “What do you mean I came back?” I ask, tossing the bag with her phone on the bar counter. “I told you I was going to get you a phone. There’s your phone.”

  “Oh. Thanks,” she says. “Are you staying for lunch? I’m making a chicken stir fry.”

  “I’m staying for as long as I stay,” I announce since I can’t give her anything definite even if I wanted to.

  “Okay. I’ll grab you a plate,” Cora replies, her tense shoulders relaxing a little.

  As she moves around the kitchen in a different white and yellow dress than the one I fucked her in, I notice her hair that’s up in a ponytail is damp from a shower. This dress has a V-neck and doesn’t even reach her knees, showing off her lean legs and hugging all of her curves. I get hard just wondering what color panties she’s wearing underneath and studying her tits to see if she’s wearing a bra.

  I can’t wait until after dinner to find out.

  Except, why shou
ld I have to wait until after dinner to have her? Our agreement was whenever I wanted her, and I want her again right fucking now.

  So, after she pulls a pan of rolls out of the oven and turns it off, I go into the kitchen intending to find out. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I spin her around and press my hand on the center of her back to bend her over the empty counter on the opposite side, making her squeak in surprise.

  “What are you…oh!” she exclaims when I flip the skirt of her dress up to her back and tug on her miniscule lace panties so hard they rip apart.

  As I unzip my pants with one hand, I slide my fingers through her folds with the other. When I shove two up into her hot pussy, Cora whimpers at the intrusion. I’m a bastard for enjoying the sound, even though I know it means she’s not ready for my dick and is probably still a little sore from earlier.

  “You’re not wet yet,” I remark, pumping just one finger in and out of her a few times.

  “You-you didn’t really give me any warning here,” she replies.

  “Are you sore?” I ask.

  “No-no. Not really,” she says, which is good because that wouldn’t have stopped me anyway. “Just…give me a little time…”

  “Our deal was I get to fuck you whenever I’m hard. I’m hard and ready to fuck you now.”

  “I-I noticed,” Cora stammers when I try pushing in two fingers again, but it only makes her pussy clench tighter, trying to prevent the intrusion. “Could you…could you maybe try licking your fingers or-or me first?”

  My fingers pause mid-thrust inside of her. “You want me to lick your pussy?” I ask, my tongue wetting my lips at the prospect. Why didn’t I think of that? Just yesterday I was fantasizing about eating her cunt like a starving man.

  “Yes?” it sounds like she’s throwing the question back at me.