Trapping Sophia: Disciples 6

by Sweet, Izzy

  The lighting is dim, almost nonexistent, making the room I’m in seem dark and dingy, like the place hasn’t had a good cleaning in years.

  Occasionally, voices raised in both joy and anger pierce through the pounding beat of the music. Tickling at the back of my senses.

  But none of it matters.

  Nothing matters except for the man holding me in his arms.

  “Allie,” Coy growls into my mouth between thrusts of his tongue.

  His taste… God, I can’t get enough of his taste. He tastes like bourbon, man, and something more. He tastes like something addictive… something I’ve been craving all my life.

  He tastes like power, excitement, and danger all wrapped up in one.

  Everything I’ve been warned away from.

  Everything that could destroy me.

  The perfect forbidden fruit.

  Hand grabbing my face, firmly holding me in place, Coy kisses me deep. Kisses me like he’s trying to shove all his love down my throat.

  I grab at his chest, fingers clutching the soft fabric of his black t-shirt, as he cuts off all my air.

  My lungs begin to burn, aching for oxygen, and my head starts to feel light and woozy before he finally tears his mouth away.

  Pressing his forehead against mine, he breathes out, his warm breath caressing my face, and says, “Fuck, I missed you.”

  There’s true sincerity in his words, but a touch of anger, too.

  Breathing heavily, his hard chest rises and falls against my clutching fingers.

  Eyes closed, I take a moment to soak him in. Soak in the feeling of finally having him close, before I tell him, my throat almost aching with the words, “I missed you too.”

  Coy’s breath hitches, his chest stilling for a heartbeat.

  A warning my brain recognizes but doesn’t process until it’s too late.

  With another growl rumbling in his chest, he picks me up, off my feet. The world spins as I’m swung through the air and then my back hits a wall.

  Pushing his body into me, forcing my thighs to spread wide open for him, Coy’s mouth attacks my mouth again.

  Unlike the first kiss, this kiss isn’t loving. No, it’s desperate and angry. Full of pent-up frustration.

  I feel every single one of his emotions in the kiss. The way his tongue lashes at mine, I know he wants to punish me.

  The way his teeth are there, just on the edge, ready to bite down, I know he wants me to feel his pain.

  Pain because the one thing in the world he wants and needs is being kept away from him.

  I know because it’s my pain, too.

  “Seven days,” he says, his voice sharp with accusation as he breaks the kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of my head then his fingers lace through my hair and tug, forcing my neck to arch. “It’s been seven fucking days, Allie.”

  Peering up, my eyes drink in his face. Even angry, he’s too fucking handsome. So handsome it makes my chest hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” I exhale breathlessly, lungs working hard to catch up on air. “It’s not like I have a choice.”

  I watch his gaze darken and his features tighten. In this lighting, with those eyes and that perfect bone-structure, the devil himself is staring me down.

  A sting spreads across my scalp as his grip tightens, tugging harder on my hair. “You always have a choice.”

  “I don’t,” I say as the small bite of pain settles deliciously into my bones. I’ll take whatever he’ll give me. Take his love, take his hate. “But when I do, I’m with you.”

  Coy’s nostrils flare and pure fury washes over his face. A fury that actually frightens me a little.

  But before I can shove him away or do anything to protect myself, he makes this strange sound deep in his chest.

  A sound that’s both desperate and frustrated.

  His head comes down and his lips crush against mine so hard I end up plastered against the wall.

  “I fucking missed you,” he rumbles into my mouth, his anger finally cracking.

  Releasing my grip on his shirt, I wrap my arms around his neck and arch my body into his.

  Willing. Always willing.

  I can no more fight this thing between us, this thing that’s been consuming us, than he can.

  Lord knows, I’ve tried. Tried and failed to be the good girl.

  I want to tell him I missed him too, that I’ve been dying without him, but his tongue and lips don’t give me the chance.

  Kissing me like he’s trying to consume me, he groans like he’s in pain and rocks his hips against me. Grinding his trapped erection against my panties.

  A burst of pure pleasure shoots up my spine and my knees go weak.

  It always takes him so little effort to get me there. To get me primed and ready to accept everything he’s going to throw at me.

  And more. There’s always more.

  “I missed these fucking lips,” he says, and then swallows my answering sigh.

  Fingers untangling from my hair, his hand drops down and slides up my shirt.

  Shoving my bra out of the way, he cups my breast and gives me a firm squeeze. “I missed these fucking tits.”

  My nipple instantly tightens against his rough palm.

  His hand hasn’t always been this big or this rough. It seems like only yesterday he was the boy next door…

  Now he’s a man dry humping me against a wall.

  Calloused fingers play with me, squeezing and fondling in rhythm with his thrusting tongue.

  And everything inside me begins to melt.

  I’m so fucking wet I swear it’s leaking out of me.

  My thighs are slick, my panties soaked.

  I’ve been thinking about him all day. Hell, I’ve been thinking about him all week. My body on edge, longing and waiting to see him again.

  Being with him in my dreams hasn’t been enough to sustain me.

  I’ve been starving.

  “I missed this fucking pussy,” he growls and then his teeth nip at my lip.

  The hard bulge behind his zipper grinds against my clit and my entire body goes taut as my core clenches, aching to have him inside me.

  Aching to feel complete again.

  My reactions spurring him on, his movements become rougher, more aggressive.

  Sliding his hand out of my shirt, he wastes no time pushing it up my skirt.

  My thighs squeeze around his waist, trying to pull his hips back as they leave me. Undeterred and much stronger, he stands firm, ignoring me. It’s my turn to growl in frustration until his thick fingers yank my panties to the side.

  Then those same fingers are pushing through my lips.

  “Fuck, you’re already soaking wet, baby,” he nearly chokes.

  “I missed you too,” I pant, and jerk my hips as his fingers find my clit.

  I’m so on edge, I might come at any second. This is the longest we’ve ever been apart. The longest my body has had to survive without him.

  “Coy,” I half-moan, half-plead.

  I don’t want to come like this. I only want to come with him inside me.

  A wicked glint entering his eyes, his fingers continue to work my clit.

  Swirling, pressing, pinching.

  “Tell me what you need, baby.”

  Goddammit, he always does this to me.

  “I—I want…” I groan and my lashes begin to flutter as my release draws closer.

  Just a little bit more, a little more pressure…

  “Uh-uh,” he says and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

  His fingers stop.

  I’m left dangling on the edge.

  “Tell me, Allie,” he demands.

  Did I say I missed him? I take that back.

  He’s totally a jerk.

  A smirk unfurls across his lips.

  Yep, a total jerk.

  He knows talking dirty is hard for me. I’ve always struggled with it despite the words I can say quite comfortably inside my head. It’s a ho
ldover from all the things my parents have drilled into me. Things about being a proper, upstanding lady.

  One must always be gracious and say please and thank you.

  One must never tell a boy she wants him to stuff her with his cock.

  It’s been so long though, so long since we’ve been alone, my clit is throbbing with unfulfilled want.

  And that smirk on his face certainly doesn’t help.

  Taking a small breath, I will the words to come out. “I—I want you…”

  His smirk sharpens as I trail off.

  “I want you to fuck me, Coy. Fuck me hard,” I finally blurt out.

  The smirk falls from his face and his jaw nearly drops from shock.

  I’d be pleased with myself if my whole damn body wasn’t pulsing with need.

  “Dammit, Coy,” I groan when he just stares at me like he doesn’t know who I am.

  That seems to bring him back to reality.

  Shaking his head sharply, he growls, “Fuck, you don’t have to ask twice.”

  Reaching down, he unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock. He gives it two strokes, from base to crown. Then, grabbing me by the hip, he begins to guide it to my entrance.

  His slippery head bumps against me when I suddenly remember something else.

  “Wait,” I say and clench up.

  After staring at me, he drops his chin and groans. “Shit. I almost forgot.”

  Releasing his grip on his cock, he shoves his hand into his front pocket and pulls out a condom.

  Another holdover from all the shit my parents drilled in my head.

  Nothing is unforgivable in their eyes.

  Nothing that is except for having a baby out of wedlock.

  I watch him lift the foil wrapper up to his mouth and tear into it with his teeth. Eyes locked on mine, they blaze with love and need.

  And the strangest urge comes over me.

  “Stop,” I say, but he pulls the condom out of the wrapper like he didn’t hear me.

  Sliding my arm off his shoulder, I grab him by the wrist as he drops the condom down to his cock, about to roll it on. “Stop, Coy.”

  Coy’s eyes spark with irritation and his jaw clenches. As tight as his body is, I can tell he’s on the edge, but he’s trying hard to be patient with me.

  His voice is rough and scratchy as he asks, “What’s wrong, baby?”

  I suck in a breath. Am I really going to do this?

  “No condom,” I say as I knock the condom out of his hand.

  It falls to the carpet.

  Coy looks down at the condom then his head jerks up to me. His eyes search my eyes as he reaches up and grabs the side of my face. “Are you sure?”

  His thumb strokes along the line of my jaw. His grip might be rough and possessive, but there’s so much gentleness there too.

  I wrap my arm around his neck again and pull him close, my eyes never leaving his eyes. “I’m sure. I don’t want anything between us.”

  I want to feel his flesh against my flesh. I want it so bad, I start to tremble, aching for it.

  Coy stares into my eyes for a second longer before his hand slides down, his fingers wrapping around my hip.

  His grip squeezes around me the same moment he thrusts forward.

  My throbbing, aching flesh spreads open for him and I suck in a sharp breath as he fills me up.

  Stretching me, forcing me to make room for him.

  It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, it always feels like the first time.

  The first time I let him inside.

  The first time I let him become a part of me.

  Cementing him permanently in my soul.

  “Fucking hell… you’re so warm…” Coy growls before he pulls back and slams into me again.

  My ass smashes against the wall from the force of his thrust and my eyes want to roll into the back of my head.

  The sensation of his cock gliding against my slick walls is intense, but it’s not nearly as intense as the emotions swelling in my chest.

  I want to explode, to burst with them.

  To be free of them.

  Sometimes this love I have for him is so strong it scares me nearly to death.

  We’re too young and too naïve for this to be real…

  But as Coy begins to drive his body into mine, driving into me like his very life depends on it, I know he feels it too.

  Feels powerless to stop it…

  We’re caught up in something bigger than us. Something primal that will probably destroy us both.

  But we can’t stop it… no, there’s no stopping it now.

  All we can do is give into the beast and hope for the best.

  Coy’s hand suddenly wraps around my throat and my eyes snap open, locking on his.

  There’s love in there, but the anger is back.

  “Is this hard enough for you?” he grunts.

  “Harder,” I moan.

  Eyes narrowing, his thrusts become deeper, more violent, and my thighs tighten around his hips.

  Like I said before, I’ll take whatever he gives me.

  Because I desperately need it.

  I need his tenderness, but there’s also a darker part of me that craves his violence.

  My fingers claw at his shoulders as his grip tightens around my throat, cutting off my air.

  With just a little more pressure, he could end it all now and put us both out of our misery.

  But he doesn’t.

  His hips pound mercilessly into me, so forceful he’s not only smashing me into the wall, he’s smashing against my clit.

  Forcing everything he has into me.

  His love. His affection.

  His loathing.

  His hate.

  Hate because I’ve made him weak.

  Spots dance in front of my eyes and my lungs scream for air, but the pleasure inside me continues to build and build.

  I’m so close, I can practically taste the relief on the horizon.

  “Hey, Coy. That thing—” someone suddenly says behind him.

  “Get out,” Coy snarls back, his hard, almost frantic pace never wavering.

  “Shit. Yeah… sorry, brother.”

  The door slams and blackness begins to creep into my vision.

  Coy finally eases his grip around my throat and I suck in air just as my orgasm hits.

  Crying out with my next breath, my walls squeeze around him. Milking him as I’m swept up into a tidal wave of pure liquid bliss.

  This is the moment I live for. The moment when my craving for him is sated for just a few precious seconds.

  My hair is tugged, my neck forced to arch back, and then Coy’s breath is in my ear. He pants as he swells up and pulses inside me.

  And for the first time, I feel his warmth.

  Fuck, he’s so warm.

  After milking everything I can out of him, the walls of my pussy give one last spasm around his cock and we both still. Savoring this brief moment of freedom.

  Then, as quickly as it came, it disappears again.

  The craving slowly begins to slither back in.

  Coy makes the first move. Pulling back, he slides out of my body and a gush of warm wetness leaks out of me.

  We both glance down and my cheeks burn with heat.

  This has never happened before…

  “Jesus,” Coy groans and then he’s sweeping me into his arms.

  Picking me up, he carries me into the bathroom and sets me down on the counter.

  My heart feeling as raw as my throat, I watch him silently as he moves around the bathroom. And again, I’m struck by how much he’s changed since I first met him. How much he’s grown.

  A year ago, he was tall and lean, almost skinny. Now he’s covered in so much muscle his black shirt strains against his pecs.

  Maybe I should buy him some new shirts. I don’t think he’s even aware of his new size.

  Grabbing a washcloth out of a drawer, he soaks it under the sink faucet before wringing it
out and carrying it over to me.

  Nudging my legs open, he steps into me. My blush burns even hotter and I have to look away, unable to watch as I spread myself open for him.

  Exposed.

  With him, I’m always fucking exposed.

  I stare at the wall, tense and waiting for him to clean me. To wipe away the aftermath of what we did.

  After a couple of minutes, when nothing happens, I peek over at him to see him staring intently between my thighs.

  My first instinct is to snap my legs shut, and I give into it.

  With a soft growl, he grabs me by the knees and pulls them back open.

  “Coy...” I protest.

  Jaw clenched, he tosses the wet washcloth away.

  Then his fingers are on me, working and rubbing his cum in.

  “Oh my god, Coy, stop,” I whine.

  He’s torturing my poor, over-sensitive clit.

  Dark head bent down, eyes still locked between my thighs, he asks, “Why? I’m just marking what’s mine…”

  “Because…” I gasp and try to squirm away from him. “Because I have to go.”

  His head snaps up and I watch pain quickly followed by anger flash across his eyes.

  “No, you don’t,” he snaps and focuses all of his attention on my clit. “You’re staying right here with me, Allie.”

  “I do,” I half-whine, half-beg as I twist away from his torturous digits. “You know I have to go. My parents will notice if I’m not there when they get back.”

  “Fuck them,” he growls and pinches my clit. “You belong right here.”

  “Dammit, Coy!” I cry out, arching my spine and gripping the counter as a bolt of intense sensation courses through my body. “You know they’ll call the fucking police again!”

  “I don’t fucking care,” he insists and redoubles his efforts, his fingers working me with an almost inhuman speed.

  “You… you might not,” I struggle to say as the pleasure inside me grows. Fuck, I’m going to come again and this time it’s going to hurt. “But your dad and brothers will when they trash the clubhouse again.”

  Peering up at him, panting, my eyes plead with him to release me.

  If he doesn’t stop now, we won’t stop. We’ll keep going all night and be totally fucked.

  Coy makes a sound of disgust and tears himself away just as I almost reach my peak.