Luck of the Devil

by James, Marie

  His eyes narrow, lip twitching with unwelcome mirth. “What part of blowing down your throat like a geyser makes you think I didn’t enjoy what you just did?”

  “You’re still hard.” I hope he hears the accusation in my voice.

  “Because I want to fuck you.”

  “Just what I need.” No longer able to hold his gaze, I look down at his hand still clamped on my arm. “To lose my virginity because of a pity fuck. Let me go.”

  “No,” he snaps. “You need to open your fucking mouth and use your damn words. I can’t read your fucking mind, but fuck if I’ll let you leave here right now without explaining why in the hell you’re acting like this.”

  “You weren’t satisfied!” I yell, not worried about the other people in the clubhouse until I hear my confession echo around us. “I can’t please you. I understand why you’ve continuously pushed me away. You knew I wasn’t enough for you, but you’re too nice to just come out and say it.”

  “Baby.” His voice softens, now so close he’s whispering against my neck. “Look at me.”

  I refuse, keeping my eyes lowered to my fisted hands.

  “Feel me.” The pressure on my wrist increases until he’s urging me to wrap my fingers around his length. “I’m not hard because you couldn’t satisfy me. I’m rock solid because I want you so much, because I can’t get enough of you, because I want to bury myself so deep inside of you that your body becomes home.”

  Shaking my head, I deny his explanation.

  “I have never come so hard in my life.” He groans as his hand covering mine strokes him.

  The sounds wash over me, renewing the unfulfilled need that was pulsing through me earlier.

  “Are you wet for me? Did wrapping those perfect lips around my cock turn you on?”

  “Oh God,” I whisper.

  “Are you hurting with need? Confused by the emptiness even though you’ve never been filled?”

  How does he—?

  “Is your skin on fire?” I shudder when his free hand trails lightly down my spine. “Can I taste you?”

  My eyes snap up to his.

  “Come here.” Lying back against the pillows, he urges me up his chest.

  “I’m afraid I’ll be hard for you every second for the rest of my life,” he explains against my mouth. “My cock needs you, wants you so much it isn’t going to waste a second needing a recharge, no matter how many times I come.”

  Trembling from head to toe with his admission, I can no longer concentrate on fisting his dick, but before I can feel guilty about not giving him what he needs, his mouth finds mine.

  “Are you ready?” he whispers against my lips. My head is nodding, answering for me without my brain even getting involved. “Then why are you shaking?”

  “I—” I clear my throat when the word comes out like gravel. “I’m afraid it’s going to hurt.”

  His brows draw together, creating the crease in his forehead that I love so much.

  “I want it,” I assure him, not wanting him to back away. “I just hear the first time hurts.”

  “From who?” The confusion doesn’t clear.

  “Anyone and everyone I’ve talked to who’ve lost their virginity.”

  “Virginity?” His head shakes violently. “I’m not going to fuck you, Molly.”

  Disappointment overpowers the anxiousness. “What?”

  “I want to eat your pussy. Taste you on my lips, drink you down my throat. I’m not fucking you.”

  “Ever?”

  A wide smile spreads his face. “Not today, baby.”

  His lips brush mine before his hunger takes over and he dives in deeper.

  “Goddamn.” He licks into my mouth again. “I taste good on your tongue.”

  Moaning when he sucks on my tongue to the point of pain, I’m lost in him. I’d do anything this man asked me to do. If his hands around my throat is what he needs, I’d tilt my chin back and offer it to him.

  “I bet,” he pauses, taking the time to nip at my chin, “I bet there are parts of you that will taste even better.”

  My body trembles at the suggestion.

  “I want that,” I confess breathlessly.

  “Up here.” He tugs at my waist, urging me to straddle his face.

  My mind flashes back to the moment I walked in on Zoe and Lynch her first night here, and a rush of eagerness urges me higher up his chest. I move so fast he chuckles when I clock him in the arm with my knee rather than wincing in pain from the impact.

  “You smell divine.” His nose sweeps down my seam as his hands grip the now abrading fabric of my dress. My nipples tighten against the lace of my bra, but I don’t remove it. Getting him like this, so hungry that he’s forgotten all the reasons why this is a bad idea, has been less of a challenge than I thought it would be, but there’s still the chance of him putting an end to this.

  I reach for the discarded eye mask near his head, but he shakes his head when I try to pull it over his eyes.

  “I don’t need that.” His eyes flutter closed as his tongue licks at my panties, tracing the apex of me in one languid stroke. When he tilts his head back, taking in a deep, drawing breath, I reach between us and pull my panties to the side.

  His tongue sneaks out again, meeting flesh instead of fabric, and his eyes snap open. I expect him to stop, to tell me this wasn’t his intention, so my hand clasps the back of his head and pushes him against me. He never falters again, never takes his mouth from me. Surprisingly, he never closes his eyes either. They stare up at me, bright blue orbs reaching into my soul as he removes me from the plains of the earth and sends me floating in the atmosphere with pleasure I never thought possible.

  I don’t feel anything but his working tongue on my body. The concentration of attention in that one tiny spot is enough to make me jerk against him. I want to press harder against him and pull away because the sensations possessing me are too much to handle.

  “Don’t move,” he growls as his tongue slips between my lips and explores the depths that need him.

  That clenching, the emptiness he spoke of earlier is back with a vengeance, but he swats my hand away when I reach for myself. He bites at me, nipping my swollen clit in punishment, but it only makes me ache for him more.

  “Please,” I beg, unsure of exactly what I’m needing.

  I need less.

  I need more.

  All of it.

  None of it.

  Everything and nothing at all.

  “Ohhh,” I moan when the tightness in my core grips me into almost seizure-like need.

  I felt only a shadow of this the day he pressed himself against me, rubbing his thickness over the exact spot he’s sucking on now, but today is going to be different. Today every muscle in my body is poised, waiting for release.

  “Fuck,” he hisses, taking one long breath before he dives back in. “Give it to me.”

  I implode, convulsing against his mouth so violently he has to increase his grip on my legs to maintain contact with my body. Nothing in the world has felt so good, and has hurt as much as this.

  My mind blanks, my vision blurs, and when I look down at our connection, he’s smiling up at me with delight edged in wickedness.

  Chapter 30

  Briar

  It isn’t until my eyes open that I realize the pounding that’s echoing around me is from the bass of music in the living room and not an actual throbbing in my head.

  Aside from me, my bed is empty, cold without the warmth of Molly’s body.

  The absence of light trickling in from the blinds is a sign that it’s nighttime, and waking up alone has never made me feel more isolated than it does right now.

  I knew she was gone. She’d kissed my lips, licking her own when she got a taste of herself, before telling me she had to get back to her house before anyone noticed her gone. I’d watched her back as she quietly closed my door behind her, but it didn’t stop me from hoping she’d returned while I slept.

  Knowi
ng she won’t be far, I jump out of bed and hit the shower. The anticipation of seeing her is the only reason I’m able to wash her scent from my skin.

  After pulling on the tightest pair of jeans I own and sliding my feet into my boots, I leave my room with my t-shirt in my hands. I’m pulling it over my damp hair when I round the corner into the common area of the clubhouse.

  As usual, Molly is standing at one of the pub tables with several of the girls around her. An open, half-empty bottle of tequila is in front of them with nearly a dozen empty shot glasses.

  Frowning at the display, I manage not to make eye contact with her on my way to the bar for a beer. Hiding what we have is the only way to stay safe, but it doesn’t keep her eyes off of me. I can feel them drilling into the back of my head when the new prospect hands me a bottle from the fridge.

  “Gonna be a wild night.” He angles his head in the girls’ direction. “They started drinking over an hour ago, and they’re still going strong. I think Xena can out drink any man here. And Molly—”

  “Doesn’t even exist in your tiny world, Prospect,” I spit in interruption.

  “I just meant—”

  My animalistic growl makes him stop short.

  “Quit scaring him,” a playful voice says from beside me just as I feel a slender arm wrap around my waist. “Let me ease that tension.”

  Without even flexing a single muscle in my torso, I turn my head and glare down at the familiar-looking brunette. If memory serves correctly, this is the chick that was sitting in my lap before we left for Richmond almost two weeks ago.

  “Hey there.” Batting her eyes, she glances up at me.

  “Don’t touch me.” My command is simple, but all she does is bite her lip and attempt to stick her already nearly exposed tits out further.

  “Not what you were saying the first time we met.” The stench of alcohol on her breath makes my insides roil.

  Molly’s eyes are still burning a hole in the back of my head, and I know she’s seconds away from grabbing this girl by her head and dragging her away. The sick possibility that she’d do worse is my second thought. Both her brothers and her dead father have a craving for death like none I’ve ever seen. Thinking that the gene skipped Molly would be foolish.

  “How did you sneak in, honey?”

  Turning my glare from the woman still touching me up to find Ronan closing in on us, I pray he reads me right.

  “Out you go,” Ronan urges, physically having to pull her arms from around my body. Before he walks away, he looks back to me. “She was eighty-sixed last time. I swear. No clue how she managed to get in.”

  “The usual bulldog at the gate is gone tonight,” she says drunkenly. “The new guy just let me slip right in.”

  “Take care of that, too,” I tell Ronan as he walks away with the girl. His hand shoots up over his head in acknowledgment.

  “You just saved her life.”

  I tilt my beer to my lips to hide the smile as Molly presses against my side and the bar a little too close for being in public. She’s going to test every damn limit she can. I can already tell.

  “We need a bottle of Jack and a jar of cherries.” I feel her eyes on the side of my face even though she’s speaking to the prospect behind the bar. “With stems, please.”

  “Stems?” For the first time since I walked out here tonight, I look over and meet her eyes.

  Her smile knocks the breath from my lungs, which isn’t at all a hard thing to do since I haven’t taken a full breath since she left me in my room earlier.

  “Xena is going to teach me a few tongue techniques.” Her teeth dig into her bottom lip before she continues. “Help me hone my skills.”

  I’m grateful my mouth is empty, because if not, I would’ve spewed beer all over the bar top. My cock tightens against my jeans, and I’m thankful I wore my tightest pair, knowing just the sight of her would test the strength of the fabric.

  “What’s wrong, VP?” she taunts as her eyes jerk down and up again. “Xena assures me tying cherry stems isn’t that hard.”

  Her emphasis on the last word is intentional, and now I’ll be standing here all fucking night because I won’t be able to stop thinking about her pink tongue working in circles to tie a fucking stem.

  “I want your mouth on my fucking cock again,” I hiss with my eyes on the prospect as he rummages around in a cabinet for Molly’s fucking cherries.

  “I want your—”

  “Here you go.” With perfect fucking timing, Mac slides the bottle of booze and the jar of fruit across the bar.

  “Thanks, gorgeous.”

  I watch the dead man as his green eyes stay locked on Molly as she walks away.

  A fist invades my vision, and blood is dripping from the prospect’s nose before I can blink.

  “Quit looking at my fucking sister like that,” TJ snarls as he pulls his arm back.

  “I wasn’t,” Mac lies as his hands cover his bleeding face.

  Ignoring everything else around him, TJ leans across the bar. Smarter than he looks, Mac doesn’t shy away. Fear doesn’t get you very far in the Ravens Ruin MC, and his courage makes me feel like a complete joke.

  “There isn’t a man on earth, much less inside this fucking clubhouse that’s good enough for her,” TJ hisses. “Keep your fucking distance.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mac agrees, pulling his hands from his face and nodding his head to strengthen his words.

  TJ hits him one more time for good measure before turning his attention to me. His eyes narrow as he scans my body like a psycho.

  “What’s different about you?”

  “What?” I ask, raising my bottle to hide my nervousness rather than a need for something to drink.

  “You seem relaxed.” His eyes narrow even further.

  The last fucking thing I feel right now is relaxed. I’m all stocked up on guilt though.

  “Did you get laid?”

  Choking on my beer, I sputter and cough to clear my throat. He just glares at me, not bothering to pat my back to help me along.

  “No.”

  “You just have that ‘I blew my load, and all is right with the world’ look on your face.”

  His scrutiny is a tangible thing right now, scraping over my skin like the sharpened point of his blade.

  “Jacked off in the shower,” I lie. He doesn’t look away, so I dig the hole deeper. “I took a muscle relaxer. The ride back from Detroit nearly fucking killed me.”

  Only then does his face change. It’s obvious he doesn’t believe me, but I’ve given him enough to pretend nothing’s going on at least.

  “Old man,” he chuckles, now taking the opportunity to clap me on the back. The movement is so abrupt, I nearly drop my beer bottle. “I have some shit to take care of. Keep an eye on my sister. She seems fucking determined to get alcohol poisoning tonight.”

  I keep my eyes on the bar until I hear the snap of the front door closing over the din surrounding me.

  “I wouldn’t,” Mac warns when I turn around to face the table of drunk girls as each one of them stare intently at Xena’s mouth.

  “Mind your fucking business.” Mac’s smarter than I first thought when he busies himself rather than trying to make small talk with me.

  After Xena pulls the double-knotted stem from her lips, all the girls nod and smile in wonder before dipping their fingers in the half-empty jar to pull out their own cherry. Molly’s eyes find mine as she dangles the cherry over her perfect fucking mouth. Her tongue, pushing past her red-painted lips, flicks the juice threatening to drip from the bottom. She groans when the juice drops too soon, landing on her chin rather than her tongue, and I grin when her cheeks flush with crimson. I know she’s embarrassed, thinking she fucked up trying to be sexy, but it’s the pureness that really makes my cock even harder. There’s nothing more intoxicating than knowing each touch I’m allowed on her skin is a first. Each time I lick her, taste her, press my fingers to her, I’m the first one to provide her with that e
xperience.

  “Jesus.”

  I’m enjoying the sight of Molly trying to lick away the juice from her chin when the ignorant fucker behind me speaks. My blood boils, a different demon waking from slumber than I worry about with Molly. My need for blood, death, and destruction slams against my chest. Molly must sense the change, because her eyes dart from me to Mac and back again.

  “No,” she mouths, but even her request can’t be satisfied tonight. I’m strung too fucking tight. TJ wouldn’t even question the ease in my posture if he were here right now.

  “We have a problem.” I jerk my eyes in Chains’s direction, ready to split my fury between two men when I realize he’s telling me there’s something wrong rather than questioning my intentions.

  “Where’s Lynch?” I look over the SAA’s shoulder, but my president is nowhere to be found.

  “Not here. He and Zoe went for a ride on the bike. That means I need you.”

  I don’t open my mouth to speak until we’re clear of the clubhouse and striding quickly toward the garage.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  The cool breeze surrounding us doesn’t help wash away the anger I felt inside of the club knowing Mac had his eyes on my girl. When Lynch caught Ronan eyeing his girl a few months ago, he should’ve killed him, not invited him into their bed and shared her. I’m not judging anyone’s kink, but there isn’t a soul on this earth I’d share Molly with. I can’t even fathom the idea.

  “You remember the douche that was trying to get Molly in bed last month?” I’m too angry with the memory to respond. “We caught him—”

  We both stop, standing perfectly still when Hornet emerges from the side door of the garage with a battered girl cradled to his chest.

  “He beat the shit out of her.”

  “Who is she?” I ask after Hornet passes. I don’t recognize the bruised and bleeding woman, but there’s something familiar about the blood coating her body and matting her blonde hair.

  “No clue,” Chains answers.

  My jaw clenches, the muscles working overtime. “Did he rape her?”

  “No. We got to him before he could. It’s—she was—”

  “Just fucking spit it out.”