Screw You: A Screwed Duet (Five Points, Hell's Kitchen Book 1)

by Serena Akeroyd

  Harder.

  Deeper.

  The little gagging sounds she made were like manna from heaven, and one of her hands moved from between her thighs, and her wet fingers grabbed at my hip—not to stop me, to urge me on.

  That she was getting off on me using her mouth was an electric shock to the back of my neck. And trust me. I’d been tazered a few times in my misspent youth, I knew how that shit felt, and this was like that.

  I was so close to coming in her mouth, so close to jetting my seed down her throat, but I couldn’t. Just couldn’t.

  I needed my first load in her pussy.

  Needed it like I needed my next breath.

  With a groan of disappointment, I pulled out of her mouth, and even as she moaned her own annoyance, I strode to the side of the bed, opened one of the drawers on the nightstand and pulled out a condom.

  Sheathing myself, I climbed onto the bed, slotted myself between her thighs, grabbed her legs and pinned them high against my chest, then I fisted my dick and began to push into her.

  A panicked squeak escaped her at the brisk roughness of my caresses, but I ignored her as I sank the first inch into her.

  “Jesus, you’re so tight,” I bit off, feeling the sweat pop out of my pores as she clamped down around me.

  Her panting breaths sounded overly loud in the room as I dipped my chin and pressed my forehead to the side of her calf which was propped up against my pec.

  I tried to fuck another inch into her, but shit, she was like a vise.

  It was my turn to pant. “Relax.”

  “I’m trying,” she whimpered, and I opened my eyes to look at her. She was white again, not pink with arousal, and though her cunt was fucking sloppy from all her juices, she was constricting around me in a stranglehold to maim, not to caress.

  I frowned down at her then parted her legs. Grabbing her ankles, I dragged her up against me, tilting her hips and pelvis up. I ignored the faint squeal she made, enjoyed the show as her tits moved in the opposite direction she went, and then spread her legs once more, this time so that each ankle was either side of my neck.

  Resting my shaft against her sweet, slick folds, I popped the head in, and she released a deep, guttural moan that resonated inside me.

  Slowly, in minute increments, I pushed home, and only when I felt it did I realize what the fuck I was touching.

  Her hymen.

  ❖

  Aoife

  Oh, God; oh, God; oh, God.

  It had been so good. So, so, so good and now? Now, it just hurt.

  As he rearranged me on the bed, pressed the tip of his shaft to my gate and slipped inside, I had to release a deep breath loaded with relief as this time, it was easier. I didn’t feel like he was tearing into me, and he managed to get what had to be at least two inches into my body.

  Did this mean I wasn’t a virgin anymore?

  Fuck, I should not have been as excited about that as I was. . . .

  Famous last words.

  My excitement drained when he came up against something, and he nudged it, and it fucking hurt.

  “What the hell?” he ground out, gaping down at me like he wasn’t sure if I was insane or just an apparition of Mother Mary herself. “Are you a virgin?”

  That was the last thing I’d expected him to ask. I mean, surely with all the fumbling Craig had done, he’d managed to take that tiny piece of flesh away?

  But nope. Apparently Craig hadn’t even managed to do the decency of making this less mortifying.

  I covered my face with my hand, and tilted my head to the side. Refusing, physically, to answer.

  His fingers grabbed my chin, though, and he urged me to look at him, swatting my hand away as he did. “Aoife,” he ground out. “Are you, or are you not, a fucking virgin?”

  For a second, my mouth quivered.

  How had this gone from the sexiest thing I’d ever done to this?

  It was almost as bad as trying to dissuade Craig from penetrating my urethra. Assuring him that, nope, that particular hole was not about to get any damn bigger.

  Yeah.

  That was how mortified I felt.

  Because I couldn’t speak, I dipped my chin.

  A flood of curses escaped his mouth, but what stunned the hell out of me even more was the glitter in his gaze.

  He stared at me for endless seconds, his eyes trained on mine, refusing to let me look away, almost like he was the predator and I, as his prey, needed to know just who was in charge here.

  My boobs shook with my heavy breaths and my body was strung up with the intensity of the sensations coursing through me.

  His cock was there, in me, but not. So close, but not. And the way he looked at me, the way his nostrils were flared like some sort of stallion ready to mount a mare in heat? I wasn’t sure whether I liked it or wanted to run screaming from the room.

  Then, he thrust into me, and the word that escaped his lips seared itself to my eardrums. It ricocheted through my body. Rattling around inside my skull because even though it was only one simple word, it made no sense.

  “Mine,” he whispered as he pushed into me. I released a sharp scream as he finally forged all the way inside me, the pain and pleasure was so intense, I didn’t know where it began and ended, where I began and he ended.

  Then, he grated it.

  And he pulled out of me.

  Then, he grunted it.

  And he thrust into me.

  He repeated it again and again, a one word litany as he fucked me. Hard.

  He didn’t take my virgin state into consideration, and that was actually more consideration than I could have asked for.

  For some stupid reason, I didn’t want him to treat me like I was a delicate flower. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him to fuck that word into me.

  His?

  I wasn’t his.

  And yet, as he screwed me, as he fucked me hard, long, and wet, a part of me would always be his, and I knew that like I knew my face in the mirror.

  Chapter Seven

  Finn

  When Aoife came around my cock, the first cock ever to be inside her, it was light’s out for me.

  There was no way I could hold back my own release, no way I could stop it to carry on reveling in the tightness of her cunt, of the snug, wet heat that was mine and mine alone.

  She clamped and clutched at me, her body curling upward, her tits jiggling as she released a shrill scream that nearly burst my ear drums as ecstasy poured through her.

  Then, because I couldn’t stop myself, I reached down and pinched her clit.

  Her gaze clashed with mine, and for half a heartbeat, she looked at me as though I’d hurt her, as though she were asking why I’d be so mean, and then I knew why.

  Her spine arched, her hips thrust up, and she almost pushed me back on my ass as she used me as support to let the joy of her second release flood her veins.

  I’d never seen an orgasm like it.

  Never seen someone own their pleasure like this innocent had, and it fired my blood like nothing else could.

  Her sweet tits, those milky mounds, that bright-pink flush that crested in myriad points around her fleshy body, and the bright scorch of auburn hair that swirled around her form against my navy comforter, was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.

  I’d never called someone mine before, but Aoife was.

  There was no way in fuck I was letting her go now I knew she’d only ever taken my cock.

  Shit like that in my world was sacred.

  Virgins weren’t women you fucked and left behind. You didn’t pull a coyote ugly on them and sneak out of their bed the next day.

  You put a ring on their finger.

  You made them your wife, and you put your babies in their bellies.

  It was nothing I’d ever expected for myself. Nothing I’d ever particularly wanted. Not until her.

  Until Aoife.

  When I climaxed, it was, as everything else had been, extraordinary.

/>   I felt like I’d been punched in the side of the head—just in a good way. Sensations pulled at my nerve endings, making me realize that sex had never been this fucking epic in all my life.

  As my cum boiled out of my balls and slalomed into the condom, I resented that piece of latex like nothing else in this world.

  Nothing, ever again, would be between this woman and me.

  That was a fucking fact.

  When I finally got my breath back, when I’d stopped seeing stars, and I had feeling back where it should be, I pulled out of her tight little slit.

  When she whimpered, guilt flooded me, and she curled onto her side like she was ashamed.

  That made me mad, but I didn’t take it out on her.

  I’d treated her like a common slut, and now it was time to make amends.

  The sight of the blood on the condom was like a red rag to a bull. It would be so easy to get hard again. Just thinking of her being mine, uniquely mine, pummeled my skull.

  Trying to force those thoughts away, I shucked out of my clothes quickly, my eyes on her fetal form as I headed for the bathroom, I finally turned away when I slipped inside. Running the water as I disposed of the condom, I stared down at her blood and felt like some kind of elemental tie joined me to her.

  When the water was hot, I grabbed a cloth from the vanity, soaked it through, and then grabbed a towel. Seeing her on the side of the bed, listlessly dressing, had more rage swirling inside me.

  “Get back on the bed. Now,” I snarled. I didn’t care that I’d made her jump, I just wanted her to obey.

  I could only imagine what she was thinking, but at my bark, she did as bid.

  Fuck, she got to me. I loved her like this, but I wanted the fire that was on her head as well as on her pussy to come to the fore, too.

  I liked a woman bare down there. Nothing to get in the way of my teeth, lips, and tongue. But Aoife? I liked her trimmed. I wanted proof that I was fucking a genuine redhead, and my mouth watered, knowing I’d be tasting her as soon as she was ready.

  “Spread your legs,” I commanded, watching as she did so with a wince.

  I knew she wasn’t ready again, so did she, but she had to think I was going to use her for a second round, yet she still obeyed.

  Then, as I neared, her eyes widened as she saw what was in my hands. The cloth dripped, but I didn’t care. I kneeled against the side of the bed then climbed onto it. Spreading the cloth flat out, I pressed it to her core and pushed the flexible material into each crevice of her sex I could reach.

  She released a keening sound as the heat got to her, working into sore and poorly used tissues. Though I did feel guilty, I also felt hot, knowing that she was sore because of me.

  Fuck, could I sound more like a Neanderthal?

  In apology, I crooned to her, “Let it soothe you.”

  She whimpered, but relaxed when I made no move other than to cleanse her. I kept the hot cloth there until it grew chill, then I asked, “Do you want more?”

  “Another washcloth?” she replied carefully, making me laugh.

  “I didn’t mean more cock.”

  When her cheeks flushed, I had to laugh again. She was so easy to rile, so easy to embarrass. A part of me wondered where this woman had been.

  She was a New Yorker, born and bred. Had been raised in Hell’s Kitchen, knew the score with the Five Points—enough to know that hiding in the fucking wardrobe wasn’t too stupid an idea—and yet, she flushed and blushed and cringed like she was a debutante coming out two hundred years ago.

  “Please,” she whispered huskily. “The heat helped some.”

  I nodded and maneuvered off the bed. As I did, her eyes drifted over my body. I didn’t preen, but I let her look her fill before I told her, “Don’t move an inch. I’ll know.”

  She flared her eyes wide, looking like a cat in headlights. “O-Okay.”

  Because I knew she would obey, I just dropped the used cloth on the ground, knowing my maid service would clean up after me. Returning to the bathroom, it took me less than thirty seconds to get another cloth as the water was already piping hot.

  When I returned, she was exactly where I’d left her. Legs splayed, her pussy bright pink from my use. Her belly wasn’t firm like a model’s, her hips weren’t as taut, but I didn’t need that. Sure, it was nice to bang. Variety was good for the soul, after all. But what had Paul Newman said?

  “Why go out for a burger when you’ve got a steak at home?”

  For the first time in my life, I saw the sense in that.

  She had hips meant for carrying a child, not that she’d appreciate that particular acknowledgment. But more important than that, they were perfectly ripe for my fists. I could and would, at some point, grab a hold of her there and tug and fuck her how I wanted her. I could bounce my pelvis against her ass without our bones rattling. Her body was soft and padded, perfect for fucking.

  I shuddered, knowing she was out for the count tonight, so getting myself riled up wasn’t smart.

  I’d been a bastard to her, and I had no doubt I’d be a bastard again—it was in my nature—but I wasn’t about to use her hard on this, her first time with me.

  The trouble with this day and age?

  Women had a say.

  Well, women outside of the life.

  Magdalena had come from another Family, one out in Hoboken. The marriage between her and Aidan had been to cement some kind of agreement between two families. There were other daughters that would make smarter choices for wives, and I knew if I asked Aidan, he’d contract one for me.

  Because yeah, that was how this world worked.

  Contracts.

  Arranged marriages.

  It was very second world. Very Victorian. But it worked. Women outside this way of life didn’t know the score. But Aoife? She did. Maybe she hadn’t learned it like Magdalena had, but she’d learned it from living in the territory.

  She was dozing, I realized, when I made it back to her side, and I smirked down at her, ridiculously proud that I’d worn her out. From this angle, her tits were fucking epic. Better than a swimsuit model’s. These weren’t goddamn apples, but fucking melons. Jesus, if I stayed away from them tonight, I deserved a goddamn medal.

  I shuddered, forced my gaze away from them, and then carefully placed the cloth over her sore cunt. It was a mixture of pink from exertion, the heat of the washcloth, and her natural coloring down there. I liked seeing it, wanted to see my cum spill from her pussy even more.

  Next time, I promised myself.

  Next time.

  She stirred when I pressed my finger carefully inside her, swirling it gently to try and soothe her inside. When she winced, I retreated, knowing I was trying to help but could be making it worse.

  Instead, I left the cloth there and climbed atop her. My cock settled against the fabric, too, separating us, and though she stiffened with me directly above her, she stared up into my eyes with no fear.

  She was a bewildering mixture.

  Trepidatious, yet also, confident.

  It was a concoction I was pleased to decipher.

  “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  My voice was raspier than I’d intended. When she flinched, I knew she thought I was angry. She dipped her chin and turned her gaze from mine, but I reached up and forced her to look at me.

  “I ask because I could have been kinder to you.”

  That had her tensing beneath me. “I wouldn’t have changed what happened if you asked me to.”

  Her tone was husky, and it sent shivers down my spine. I heard the lilt of home in her words, and it made me need her all the more.

  “I wouldn’t hurt you like that,” I chided her. “There are ways I will hurt you . . .” I curved my teeth about her bottom lip, nipped again, just enough to hurt. When she moaned, I knew I’d made my point. “But I wouldn’t have hurt you during your first time.”

  “I-It’s okay,” she whispered shyly.

  I sighed. It wasn’t okay,
but she was obviously not going to agree with me.

  Instead of arguing, I slipped my tongue between her lips and kissed her. Fuck, just the meeting of our mouths was enough to stir my cock to life. She tensed in response to it, but it was like the upper half and the lower half of her body were at war.

  I kissed her, nipping and biting at her lips, fucking her mouth like I couldn’t fuck her cunt.

  “Relax,” I cooed at her. “Nothing else is going to happen tonight.”

  She released a shaky breath, and as I stared at her face, I saw the disappointment there.

  “Do you know what a pearl necklace is?”

  Her eyes widened. “You don’t mean a necklace of pearls, do you?”

  “No, smartass,” I mocked, but I had to laugh at her when her nose crinkled as she hid a chuckle. It was the first real side of her I’d seen all evening—my own fault considering I’d threatened and maneuvered her here.

  Still, I had time to learn more of her.

  Time to get to know every inch of this gorgeous fucking body.

  “You mean,” she broke off to clear her throat, “you want to come on my throat.”

  “I do,” I told her. “I want to slide my cock between your tits. Can you manage that tonight?”

  She huffed. “I’m not entirely hopeless.”

  “No? Your pussy is off limits to me tonight. That means it’s disabled for all intents and purposes. Unless you feel like trying. . . .”

  She shook her head swiftly, and I had to hide a grin.

  I tapped her bottom lip. “Don’t bait a tiger by pulling his tail. Literally.” With a wink, I leaned over to the nightstand again and opened the top drawer where I stashed the condoms and some lube. I didn’t use the latter often, but it made fucking my fist a more bearable prospect.

  I preferred to get my dick wet in a cunt, but I’d settle for my hand when time was short, and I really needed to blow my load.

  Grabbing the bottle, I sat up on my heels, one of my knees on either side of her hips. Opening the lid, I poured some onto my hands, and then I poured some onto her tits. They gleamed like wet silk and I watched, my mouth watering, as the lube spilled over the mounds.