My eyes are like ping pong balls as I try to keep up with their interplay. It’s fascinating. They’re all so close to her, yet they haven’t the first iota of understanding about what makes her tick.
If they truly wanted to stop Maddi from leaving with me, all they need to do is stop fighting and walk away.
If they removed the problem she’s attempting to manage, Maddi would be cast adrift from her need to sacrifice. She would follow them anywhere, searching for another issue to help them manage.
Instead, they’re pushing her into this with their arguments about why she shouldn’t save them from themselves.
Maddi approaches me. I slump forward and keep my mouth shut. Everything I’ve been working toward is in my grasp and I’ll be damned if I let my smart mouth scare away the little lamb I wish to devour. She grabs my arms and struggles to pull me to my feet. I make it as hard as possible for her—simply to satisfy my own perverse need to see her dance to my tune.
“We’re going to leave now, aren’t we, Brendan?” she tells me in a tone that would be suitable for a child.
The men surrounding us gape in disbelief and I continue to act like I’m mute.
She snaps her fingers in front of my face, and I acknowledge her through heavy eyelids. My biggest fear now is that the enjoyment and calculation that’s currently spinning in my brain becomes visible on my face. It will ruin everything. I drape my arm over her shoulder and lean on her—a subtle hint to get a move on.
The tendons on Mik’s neck stand out at her close proximity to me, and I decide to chance one last gibe. Pulling her closer, I leer down at her and say, “Yes, we are, Lainey. Going home and straight to bed.”
I emphasise my use of Lainey and wait for the fireworks to erupt.
Mik growls. Maddi holds her hand up to stop him. Like the coward he is, he respects her wishes and stops advancing. If he could only get over his misguided good guy streak and treat Maddi the way all girls crave to be treated deep down, he might become a worthy opponent.
Ultimately, this has been much too easy.
“Don't call me Lainey,” Maddi rebukes me. I fight to hide a smile at her indignation. It’s too cute—and completely misplaced. “You have two options right now. Piss me off, and you'll only have one. Either pull your head out of your ass and let me take you home so we can talk, or I'm going to leave you right here and let them deal with you. Which one do you pick?”
“I need you to take me home,” I answer, quickly.
Her biker trash objects with a growl. I wait for Benji to stick his oar in, but he doesn’t. It’s Joel—the quiet dark horse—who cements his big sister’s downfall.
He's been standing back watching everything with interest, choosing now to offer his advice.
“Come on, Mad Dog. Just let my soft-hearted, dumbass sister take his fucked-up ass home. Dad’s gonna be back soon, and we don't need the cops being called when he goes apeshit and the Shamrocks back him.”
“This is absolute fucking bullshit. He's not your problem.” Mik rounds on Maddi. His temper appears close to blowing. I hold my breath and wait for this situation to take a more interesting turn.
It never eventuates.
Mik Kennedy metaphorically tucks his balls between his legs and lets an eighteen-year-old girl walk all over him. One day, he’ll learn that she needs a firm hand and little psychological mindfuckery to pull her into gear; however, today is not that day.
“I said it’s okay. Everyone’s had too much to drink,” Maddi speaks with an air of finality. She stares at Mik without blinking until he meets her eyes, then she aims the rest of her promises directly at him. “I’m not letting this wreck our night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Don't go with him, Lainey.” He attempts one more time to reason with her. “Please, angel?”
Without another word, she walks away. It takes me a moment to realises that she’s truly leaving this time, and I nearly stumble when she steps out of reach. I quickly catch up, tugging her in front of me, and rubbing my cock against her ass. She’s hidden from sight, and that disappoints me.
I want them to see me violating her.
We’re still on the edge of their hearing so I satisfy myself by slapping her on the backside, and proclaiming, “Get a move on, wench.”
Mik’s growl is music to my ears, as is his final threat.
“That cunt comes near her again after tonight and I’ll fucking kill him! I don’t give a flying fuck who you say his father is.”
Game. Set. Match. I am firmly embedded under his skin and living, rent-free, in his head.
TWENTY
Once we’re alone at my truck, Maddi lets a sigh loose. That fact’s she’s relieved invigorates me. She thinks the worst is over, yet I’ve determined that her reprieve is going to be short-lived. I am the master of her fate tonight and I’m going to teach her a lesson she never forgets while I’m at it.
Maddi shoves her hand in my pocket and fishes around for my keys. I lean back against my vehicle and let her frisk me. When my dick starts to harden again, I decide to chance it.
I’m sick of playing it cool.
It’s time to mess harder with her head.
My hands are strong, my movements are sure when I take hold of her and reverse our positions by pushing her against my truck. Lifting her until she’s settled on my hips, I rock against her. Neediness overcomes me, and I begin to thrust rather than grind. Maddi squirms like she’s in pain, and I smile.
She doesn’t know what pain is yet.
“Promise me you didn't let him touch you tonight?” I command. She takes too long to answer, so I bite her shoulder. I’ve bitten her before—dreaming of tasting her but maintaining a thin veneer of civility. This is nothing like those nibbles. I’m fierce; set on instilling fear in her that I’m going to break her skin even with her shirt acting as a barrier. Maddi freezes, then she slaps at my shoulders. I ignore her efforts, concentrating on rocking my erection against her heat. She surrounds me. Her scent overwhelms me. Her quiet pleas to let her go arouse me. Her slaps and kicks tease me.
She’s a fighter.
Fighters are fun.
“Tell me that you didn’t touch him?”
Maddi’s shoulders shake, then she answers me. “Of course, I didn't. We went for a walk, that's all. He needed to talk about his mom.”
I play the part of the jealous boyfriend, even though I’m solid in my belief that she wouldn’t have the guts to cheat on me.
“Good, I’d kill you both if you did,” I vow.
“Put me down. We need to talk,” she begs again.
Closing my eyes, I let her words evaporate in the night air while I focus on teasing myself with a tiny taste of how she’s going to feel when I break her in tonight.
“Lainey, please…” I groan. “I need to be inside you. I promise I’ll get my head on straight when I feel like you’re all mine. Just mine. The waiting’s driving me crazy.”
“Don’t call me Lainey,” she retorts. This insistence she has at keeping this nickname for Mik pisses me off. I file away the feeling it evokes, ready to use it as inspiration when I’m inside her. “My name’s Maddi, and you know that. Come on, Brendan. Let’s get out of here so we can talk.”
She continues beating the dead horse of a subject of her nickname, and I continue to take pleasure from her inability to stop me using her body like she’s a sex doll. Each grind against her pussy sends me closer to the edge—which should be impossible since I’m not a one-pump-chump.
I guess it’s testament to the torment she’s put me through with her unwavering decision to wait.
My lapse in attention comes with a painful consequence. Maddi wedges her finger in my collarbone. I bellow with pain and let her drop to the ground. She hisses like a wild cat and my muscles tense in anticipation. I ready myself to catch her if she runs, only to have her surprise me by pushing me around to the passenger side of my truck and forcing me into the seat.
Through the windscreen, I w
atch her dash back to the driver’s seat. Her behaviour is interesting to say the least. Why is she treating me with kid gloves when it’s obvious that she’s planning to take me somewhere quiet and break up with me?
The first part of our drive is made in silence. She turns in the direction of my house rather than hers, setting my mind alight with curiosity as I try to decipher her puzzling choice. It makes more sense for me to take her back to her empty house and drive myself home after she’s dumped me. Her car is at my house, but one of her brothers could pick it up for her tomorrow.
By making the choices she has, Maddi has made my plans that much easier to execute.
I’ve let my chin tilt toward my chest during my quiet contemplation. It masks the shit-eating grin that curls my lips upward when it hits me.
Maddi is managing me.
She thinks I’m too drunk to drive.
I do smell like a brewery—not that it’s my fault. Some douchebag spilt beer on me when I was looking for her on the dance floor. Truth be told, I haven’t had a drink since the one she gave me when she returned from taking her new motorcycle for a spin. I’m sober as a judge, and in full control of my faculties.
She parks in my usual spot and leans over the gear stick to peer at me. Now that her actions make sense, I let the games begin earlier than anticipated. Acting the part of a drunk jerk will add an extra element to the upcoming theatrics.
When she comes closer and touches the pulse point in my neck, I grab her by the front of her shirt and haul her face to mine.
“Why’s he allowed to call you Lainey and I’m not?”
In all honesty, I couldn’t care less why. She’s just so protective of Mik using that name that it gives me a little sensitive spot to press, over and over, whenever I want her to dance to my tune. I know the real reason why… she doesn’t like me as much as she likes him.
Yesterday, that knowledge would have hurt. After watching her with him this evening, I’ve come to terms with her glaring lack of true attraction to me. Now, it’s about my pride, my desires, and my need to own her.
The feelings I had for her were making me soft.
With them out of the equation, I can let my true self off the leash.
“It’s nothing personal against you, Brendan,” Maddi replies. Her justifications tumble from her mouth in a rushed attempt to placate the supposedly drunk dude. “The only people who’ve ever called me Lainey are my mum and Mik. When she died, I leaned hard on him because Dad fell apart. He started calling me Lainey like she did. His mum died two months before mine, so we understood each other's pain. It’s been his nickname for me ever since. Nobody else calls me Lainey because they know it’s something special that’s wrapped up in my mother. Mik kept a special part of her alive when everyone else forgot, so now he’s the only person I let call me Lainey. It’s not specifically to do with him. It’s more to do with my mother. Since you didn’t know her, and he did, it feels wrong to let you use her name for me.”
I listen to her explanation with one ear while I wrack my brain to narrow down the best place to take her next. Inside the house is too risky. The villa has been sullied by the dead hooker. There isn’t a justifiable excuse for me to get her to follow me into the barn.
At the last moment, inspiration hits.
The back of my truck would be poetic. As it’s the first place I humbled myself in front of her, it’s the perfect location for her upcoming fall from grace.
Maddi stops speaking. To keep the conversation going, I mumble the first bullshit possessive complaint that springs into my head. “I think I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. I’d like it if one day soon you’d rethink it and let me call you Lainey instead of him.”
Annoyance flits over her face momentarily so I change the subject by gesturing to the back of my truck.
“You said we need to talk?”
She nods, her manic defensiveness disappearing instantly.
As I exit the truck, I smile. Her relief is that potent it could be bottled and sold as a rescue remedy.
She thinks it’s nearly over.
Once we’re settled on the bedding in the back of my truck, I remove my boots and shirt and Maddi takes of her boots as well. Laying back, I fold my arms behind my head and close my eyes. She sits next me, acting as awkward as a day-old foal, all long legs and arms that she doesn’t quite know how to control yet.
I leave her to stew. Eventually Maddi finds the courage to lean back against the back window of my truck. I bite back a chuckle. For someone so anxious to call it quits, she’s certainly taking her time about it.
If she doesn’t hurry up, the lack of conversation and the crisp night air is going to send me to sleep.
Taking a deep breath, she pokes me. I feign surprise, opening my eyes quickly and looking at her in a rush.
“I’m really sorry, Brendan, but our relationship isn't working for me. It's completely because of me, not you.” Maddi pauses to offer me a timid smile. “You’re an incredible man, and whoever you end up with is going to be very lucky.”
I keep my expression blank.
“It’s just not going to be me,” she declares in a firm voice.
Her words hit me point blank in the heart, and it hurts. I thought I was ready for this. I thought I could take it and then methodically punish her. After actually hearing her call it quits, I’m discovering that my feelings aren’t as dead as I thought.
My beast throws open the door to his cage. He points at her, his ugly troll-like hand shaking, and unleashes his poisonous requests.
Take her, he demands.
Break her, he directs.
Make her hurt.
Jack-knifing into an upright position, I seize Maddi by the waist. My hands shake as I toss her on her back and pin her in place with my body weight.
“You’ve got to be damn well kidding me?” I question. The pain she’s causing me wants to explode from my eyes and detonate all over her. “You’re not doing this. You’re my girlfriend. I say if we end, and I'm telling you that it's not happening.”
She pushes against my shoulders. I refuse to move. Maddi hits me, aiming for my face, my throat, my eyes. With my cruel intentions in my eyes, I withstand everything she throws at me.
“Brendan, you need to calm down. When you sit back and think, you’ll realise this is for the best. You deserve someone who loves you.”
Maddi’s words wash over me. They’re only lies. Vicious, mean falsehoods designed to act as a balm to her conscience, and she proves me right when I don’t let her sit up and she resumes attacking me.
I shove her back down, taking joy in the sound her head makes when it bounces off the bed of the truck. Without skipping a beat, she headbutts me. In our clash of heads, she comes off second best because the momentum opens her legs and I take the opportunity to jam my hips between her thighs.
Looking her in the eyes, I discover that she’s angry.
It pisses me off.
I don’t want her anger. I want her fear and I want her fight.
Twisting beneath me, she knees me in the ribs.
I grunt, then slam her with my body.
For the first time, she gives me the reaction I need—crying out in pain before I strip the breath from her lungs with another body slam.
When she tries to hit me with her knees again, I leer down at her. “You’re going to need to do better than that, baby girl.”
Her anger recedes, her face becoming blank as the reality of the situation sinks in. I wait, panting hard, to see what emotion is going to show next.
Finally, Maddi makes the hurt and the pain and the violence worth it.
Her big, blue eyes fill with fear, and my cock weeps with joy.
Game on.
The time for payback has arrived.
Sitting up, I straddle her belly and pin her arms with my knees. She bucks, screaming with frustration when she can’t dislodge me. My hands are free, and I make the most of it, ripping open her shirt then snapping the f
ront clasp of her bra with one harsh yank. Her breast tumble free, revealing their perfect teardrop shape, light-pink nipples, and skin three shades lighter than her arms.
Seeing her trapped, spread bare before me is almost spiritual. It’s primeval. A religious experience provided by the altar of flesh from which I worship. I’ve wanted this for so long that it doesn’t seem real just yet. With a tentative touch, I stroke my thumbs over her tight nipples with reverence.
“Absolute perfection, and all mine.” I murmur.
She shakes her head, rejecting my ownership. Tears run down the side of her face and into her ears, and I know it won’t be long before she accepts my word as gospel. My spoken truths affect her more than my touch, and that knowledge lightens the pain in my heart. As much as I want to bury my dick inside her, my true aim is to make her feel as unworthy as she has made me feel. I want to heap scorn on her head. Degrade her until her ego is shattered. Break her belief in her own omnipotence.
Because if I’m honest with myself, that’s what she’s done to me over the past eight or so months.
For the first time, I’ve learnt that I am not King.
I am not indestructible.
If you hurt my heart, I will bleed like everyone else.
“Tell me you’re mine, Lainey,” I command.
“No. I'm not yours,” she shouts. “Get off me!”
I smile. There’s desperation in her voice. A dawning realisation of her imminent defeat. It grows with every denial, eroding her confidence in her delusions.
Maddi pulls her arms from under my knees. I allow her to get her limbs half-way out before I wrestle them back into place. Her tits bounce as she struggles, stealing my breath with their beauty, and demanding my touch. Watching her face closely, I pinch her right nipple and twist.
Her mouth forms a perfect O when she screams. The tendons in her neck protrude, and she arches her back when I tweak harder. The sounds she makes hit me right in the cock, a delicious prelude to what’s to come.
“That’s it, Lainey.” I urge, breathless with excitement. “Scream for me, baby. You’re gonna love what I’m about to do to you. I’m going to have you screaming my name so loudly that they'll hear you all the way in town. There will be no doubt who you belong to then. You’re going to forget all about that dirty biker you had on the back of your ridiculous motorcycle. I saw you throwing yourself at him on the dance floor afterwards.”
Craving Control (Black Shamrocks MC Book 6) Page 18
