by Ann Jensen
Lost in the unbelievable sensations of his woman’s body Sharp almost missed what was happening. Phoebe went still and when he looked into her eyes, they were blank. “Shit!”
He pulled out and carried her into the living room, laying her down on the couch. One minute she had been right there with him; the next she was gone. Her blank stare was too close to the ones he had seen on combat vets when they were deep in the grips of a flashback for him not to know what this was.
Damn it! He knew better than to push a victim of trauma. She had made him forget everything with her sexy smile and wild touches. He needed to be gentle with her even though it wasn’t in his nature. Years of being responsible for his Brothers in and out of the military had solidified his desire to be in charge. He had dark and brutal needs that he doubted this delicate woman could survive.
He shook her shoulders and she didn’t even blink. How could he be with her? Was there anything in his darkness that this brilliant soul needed? Maybe he should let one of his Brothers claim her. They weren’t exactly white knights but at least some of them didn’t crave the control and violent sex he did. How could this girl who dressed like an angel in sundresses ever enjoy the dirty things he loved so much? After surviving hell, she deserved candlelight and a gentleman.
The idea of another man in her bed enraged him. No matter his good intentions, he could never watch another man claim her. They could watch him, in fact; he loved the idea of claiming her in front of every one of them. She was his for good or evil. He would have to find his softer side. Maybe after she healed, she would be ready for all of him.
Sharp pulled off the condom, tossing it in the trashcan as he tucked himself back in his jeans. He knelt next to her head, speaking to her softly. “Come on, baby. I’m sorry. Come back to me. You’re safe.”
The darkness lightened at the edges of her vision and she could feel she was wrapped up in a warm fuzzy blanket.
“There you are, darlin’.” She focused on Sharp’s face and the sensation of his hand brushing back her hair.
Had she really lost it in the middle of some of the best sex she had ever experienced? Her cheeks turned bright red as she realized how pathetic she must have been to end up naked, under a blanket, while he sat there fully dressed. “I’m so sorry, Sharp.” She blinked trying to fight the tears that were pooling in her eyes.
“Stop that. You have nothing to be sorry about. Can you tell me what set you off?” She hated the careful tone in his voice, which meant he knew just how fragile she was.
She rubbed her arms, remembering all too well the feeling of numbness that would settle into them when she would be left dangling after the worst of her torture sessions. “My wrists.” She brought them out from under the blanket and showed him the solid lines of scars that ringed her hands. “He liked to watch me dangle when I was too weak or too tired to stand upright.”
He pulled her up into his lap, cradling her against his broad chest. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t.” She rolled into his chest, breathing in the scent of leather, sweat, and man that was uniquely him. “Can we talk about something else?” She wanted to move on and find that spark they shared. She needed him to see her as a whole woman, not as some pathetic wimp.
He was silent for a few minutes too long. He petted her hair and she wanted to sob because she had broken the amazing connection they had. She wished she could see his expression and know for sure, but couldn’t risk looking up and letting him see the fear in her eyes. Had she screwed this up already? Was dealing with her issues too much for the strong man? If he couldn’t handle her weakness, how much more would he despise her if he found out just how twisted she was?
“What’s your favorite color?”
The question startled her into sitting up and looking at him. He had a mischievous smile on his face. She wondered what game he was playing. “Sunset purple. Yours?”
“Right now, emerald green.” She blushed as he stared down into her eyes like they would reveal the meaning of the universe. “Favorite food?” Phoebe smiled, a glimmer of hope taking root.
He continued on like this for over an hour, his questions getting more ridiculous each round. She was laughing freely by the time he turned the tables on her and said it was her turn to ask questions. His arms had several intricate and colorful tattoos that always drew her attention. She traced her fingers around a beautifully detailed rifle on his arm. “Do your tattoos mean something?”
“Some of them. Others I got because Hannibal and Ink are amazing artists.” Phoebe puzzled for a moment then smiled.
“Are they Dark Sons too?”
“Yeah.”
“I love that you all choose your names. Makes them more important than something someone stuck on you at birth.”
“You don’t pick a road name darlin’, other people give it to you. Sometimes you go through several before one sticks.”
“I still like it.”
“Do you now, Pixie?”
“That’s just Puck being silly.”
“Nope, darlin’. All the Brothers I talked to today are calling you that. I think it fits. Most good names start as a joke. Gives them more meaning.”
Phoebe loved the name Pixie, but she couldn’t think of herself that way. There was still so much darkness eating away at her insides that she didn’t think something so cute fit her. She covered a yawn. “Can I see your other tattoos?”
“Of course.” He leaned in and kissed her on top of the head. He picked up her tote of clothes off the floor. “But let’s do that upstairs and I’ll tuck you in.”
Phoebe knew why she yawned. This was the time she had been going upstairs to sleep in order to avoid contact with any of the men at the compound when they were drunk. But with Sharp in his home, she didn’t want to get tucked away like a child. Something about his tone of voice told her he had placed her into a relationship box that at worst was labeled little sister and at best said ‘friend’.
Needing to fix that, she stood letting the blanket drop and arched her back, stretching. The motion was delightfully painful and worth every ache because a glint of heat sparked in Sharp’s eyes. She put some swing in her step as she walked up the stairs, hoping her bare ass and hips was enough to send his thoughts down the path she wanted.
Chapter 10
If at first you don’t succeed… try a different angle
There were several doors on the second floor, but she could see the open one at the end of the hallway had a large bed covered in plain blue blankets. The rest of the room was much like the rest of the house with functional furniture but no personal touches. When Phoebe turned and faced him at the foot of the bed, she was pleased by the hungry look in Sharp’s eyes. Although he had complete control over his body, it was comforting to know she could read him even if it were a small hint.
He dropped her tote on the dresser, taking a few breaths, before turning around to face her. Phoebe licked her lips hoping she made a tempting sight. “Can I see your other tattoos now?”
She wanted to see the gorgeous artwork, but it was the idea of finally seeing him without a shirt that had her pulse racing. A sexy smirk tilted Sharp’s lips as he pulled off his cut, folding it and placing it carefully on the dresser. His holster and guns were next. He turned his back and with one smooth motion pulled off his shirt. Displayed across his back was a gorgeous motorcycle in a desert sunset background with the words ‘Dark Sons’ in Gothic script arching over the entire scene.
His perfectly muscled back was a wonderful canvas and, as he turned to face her, she had to suck in a breath at the wonder that was his front. Well defined abs with the all too sexy muscles that formed a V disappearing into his pants were home to a gorgeous dragon that curled around and looked like it was about to blow flames over his heart. The bottom half was vibrant with color while the top was pure black outlines.
Phoebe stepped forward, her hands drawn to the unfinished outlines that covered the upper right of his chest.
She petted his pecs as if the dragon were a real animal that would appreciate the contact.
“Why no color?”
His hands settled on her bare hips, the heat of his skin causing her to shudder with chills. “It isn’t finished. My Brother, Ink is supposed to work on it some more this week.”
“Can I come watch?” Tattoos had always fascinated her, but she had never had the money to spare, so she hadn’t looked into the process. His hands gently squeezed her waist, his hips rocking forward, pressing his jean-covered cock against her stomach.
“You like to watch?”
Phoebe gasped as he ground against her. Watching didn’t turn her on nearly as much as the man in front of her, but maybe this was a way to get things back on track. “Do you like being watched?” Now that idea did turn her on, and she shivered at the thought.
His expression gentled with what looked like pity entering his eyes, and he cupped her face. “Don’t you worry about that, darlin’.”
Phoebe wanted to scream in frustration. He totally misread her reaction. She could feel his arousal slipping away like a knife sticking in her heart. She should have known her past would ruin everything. She dropped her head, not wanting to see the look on his face.
“I can go back to the Clubhouse and let you get some sleep.” She was proud her voice only wavered a little bit.
“Look at me, Phoebe.”
She didn’t want to, but the command in his voice was undeniable.
“You stay here with me from now on. I’ll sleep in the guest room for a while. Let you have the big bed.”
Phoebe couldn’t hold in the sob that exploded from her at his words. It was everything she feared. Standing here naked, her body pressed against his, and all he wanted to do was get away from her.
He sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. Why did the man feel so good? For once in her life, a man aroused her and made her feel safe. His skin against hers was one of the most beautiful feelings in the world, yet he didn’t feel the same.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Why do I have to stay here?”
His growl sent a zing of excitement through her body. His angry, possessive stare calming rather than scaring her. “You belong to me, Pixie.”
“But you don’t want m-me!”
“Baby, I want you so bad I am hanging onto sanity by my fingernails.”
“Then fuck me.” She sounded desperate, but she needed the physical assurance he cared. Words meant little to nothing in her experience. If he would fuck her, she would know he wasn’t lying, that she wasn’t alone in her feelings. That they were solid, and he would keep her safe.
“Fuck, I want to, but your head isn’t in the right place. Tomorrow, after you’ve slept, if you still want me, I will fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”
Phoebe barely resisted the urge to stomp her foot like a toddler denied sweets. Her body longed for his, and she didn’t want to accept the logic in his words. She could see he wasn’t going to budge, making arguing with him useless.
“Please, stay with me tonight?” The fear and pleading in her voice bothered her, but if he left her alone her doubts and self-loathing would consume her.
“Of course.” Sharp kissed her on the forehead.
Before slipping into bed with her, he slipped off his jeans and, much to her dismay, slipped on a pair of sleep shorts that looked like they had never been worn. He slid under the covers and pulled her close so her head rested against his chest.
The way her mind was racing Phoebe didn’t think she would ever fall asleep, but the stress of the day and the intoxicating warmth of his body soon had her drifting away with thoughts of what she could do to wake him up.
Sharp had been a light sleeper since BUDs taught his body that danger could happen at any moment. Especially when asleep. So, when Phoebe’s small body stirred around five am he was instantly alert. He swore he could feel her eyes studying him. When her tiny hands started exploring down his body, he couldn’t help but play along and feign sleep to see how far his little Pixie would take things.
She ran her hands in feather-light circles across his stomach pausing for a few seconds whenever she reached the waistband of his shorts. There was no hiding from her that his dick was awake. The soft feeling of her skin against his sent blood racing to his groin, causing a visible tent in the material.
Phoebe’s hands slipped under the soft cotton. Sharp expected a gentle touch and was ready to continue to feign sleep, but the firm grip and twisting motion had him shouting in shocked pleasure.
“Good morning.” Phoebe’s voice held mischief and the hint of a laugh. Her hands slowed, gliding over the tip of his dick, spreading the pre-come over the head and gliding down to the base. Pleasure and desire ran through him making him want to roll over on top of the little minx and start the day off right.
“Morning.” He looked down into her eyes and the same heat and hunger he felt was reflected in her eyes. He had planned to give her some time to adjust after he had stupidly pushed her too hard the night before. But with her little hand working him like a master he could think of little besides sinking balls deep inside her tight depths. The small taste he had gotten the night before wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him.
Her little body slid down his and dragged his shorts down, freeing his cock to the early morning. Her mouth was like warm velvet as she closed her lips around him. He wrapped his hands in her hair, losing himself in the gentle suction and the feel of her swallowing him down right to the base. How lucky was he that such a tiny thing like her could deepthroat with such skill. The urge to slam up and fuck her face was nearly overwhelming, but he held back. He did not want a repeat of last night.
For the most part, he was willing to let her set the pace, but he needed to get inside her pussy. Sharp reached over, pulling a condom from the side table drawer as he pulled his gorgeous girl up and off his dick. Her whimpers of protest made him grin. Her tongue reached out as if to catch just one more taste. He handed her the condom and loved the eager way she rolled it on and tried to immediately slam herself down. He gripped her hips, easily keeping her still with the tip of him barely inside her.
He needed to change things up if he was going to let her set the pace. If he wasn’t going to claim her with brutal strokes, he had to feed his darkness another way. Even in the heat of passion he needed to be the one in control. She might not be able to take him at full force, but he would make sure she knew she wasn’t the one calling the shots.
“Tell me what you need, darlin’.”
“I need you, Sharp.”
“What do you need?” He teased her, sliding in an inch then back out.
“Fuck me! Please, I need your cock deep inside me.”
He loved the dirty words coming out of those sweet lips. Sharp lowered his little Pixie slowly down onto his cock, watching her beautiful face as the pleasure echoed across her features. Her hands slid up, cupping her breasts as he moved her slowly up and down.
The muscles of her pussy rippled as she moved, and he enjoyed the teasing pull. Her hands pinched and twisted her nipples, and Sharp groaned as it made her clench harder around his dick. This slow sensual pace would never get him off, but he needed her to find her satisfaction before he took what he needed. Sharp slid one of his hands between them, teasing her little clit as it peeked out of its hood.
“Ride me, darlin’.”
As if his words were a starter pistol, Phoebe slammed down onto him, trying to take him in as deep as she could go. She arched her body in waves, always ending in a thrust he could feel echoing in his balls. She looked like a wild woman, glorious in her lust-soaked actions.
He placed his hands on her breasts, gently rolling the nipples between his fingers. Her panting breaths and moans were fuel to his desire. When her rhythm broke tiny quakes of orgasm spasming around his cock, he flipped her up and off him, his control slipping.
He positioned her face down on the bed,
her knees against her chest, her ass and pussy tilted up toward him like offerings before the gods. He used his thumb to rim the tiny rosette of her ass wishing he could slam himself home inside that tight nirvana. She shuddered, and he couldn’t tell if the action was fear or excitement, but he wouldn’t risk fucking up like that again. He would ease her into his primal needs, hoping she wouldn’t break along the way.
He straddled her legs, slowly working his cock into the wet depths of her pussy. This position was one of his favorites because the angle allowed for full penetration. He loved the feeling of his cock bottoming out against the cervix. Unfortunately, most women said it was too painful. But a glorious few loved it as much as he did. Sharp prayed that Phoebe would be one of those. He didn’t want to have to give it up.
The feeling of his cock meeting her cervix sent a sharp jolt of pleasure right down his spine. Experimentally, he ground into her, pushing against the barrier. Phoebe moaned, pushing back against him. He took a shallow thrust, and she gasped but met his next thrust with more force. With a growl, Sharp pulled out until just the tip of him held her open and slammed back in. On the third thrust, her scream of pleasure made him smile as her orgasm gripped his dick so hard, he saw stars.
He lost himself inside her, slamming with all his force over and over. He gripped her hips and rode her like he was trying to drill through her body with his dick. When the orgasm came, it locked his muscles as he shouted her name to the ceiling.
Their breathing evened out and Sharp watched her eyes come back into focus. He eased his way out of her and went to clean up in the bathroom planning to bring back a warm wet washcloth for her and settle back for another hour of sleep. When he returned to the room, instead of a sleepy, well-satisfied woman in bed, he found Phoebe rummaging through the bag she had brought.
He leaned against the doorway, frustrated that she appeared to have so much energy. A glance at the clock said it was a little past five. “What are you doing?”
