When they’re both naked, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and turn her face toward me. “Stand up and lean over the table. We’re going to play with that sweet pussy of yours.”
She palms my already hard dick through my suit pants. “What about you?”
I loosen my tie with my free hand. I grin down at her. “You want to take my cock out too?”
She glides her hand up and down my length with one hand, her other is still around Bull’s. “Yes, Gabriel.”
My heart stops.
My name.
My fucking name.
Tightening my grip on her neck, my mouth devours hers in a kiss. It’s savage and unrelenting. I want to punish her with it. With our mouths locked on each other, I guide her up, then slowly push her down to the table. With my hand still holding her firmly, I lower my face to her shoulder and bite her, slowly closing my teeth into her flesh.
“Yes…” She moans and squirms.
She likes it. She loves the marks I leave on her, the welts, the bites, the scratches. She begs me for them. I have to stop myself, because if I don’t, I’ll draw blood. Sometimes I’m not sure that’s not what I want.
Bringing my face to her ear, my hand still holding her down, I glide the other down the crease of her ass and over her slit. It’s slick and moist, her desire already seeping from her. “We’re not fucking you,” I thrust a finger into her wetness, “not yet.”
“Gringo,” she breathes my name as her walls grip my finger.
Bull stands behind her, his erection jutting out in front of him. “I’m gonna feast on her sweet cunt for a bit, Gringo. It’s too damn pretty and just begging to be licked.” He lowers himself with his face right at Sasha’s plump round ass. He pushes her legs open, grips both of her inner thighs, his big hands wrapping almost all the way around them, and holds her wide open. “I wish my cock could fill this sweet pussy while I ate it. That would be heaven.” Then he buries his face between her thighs. The sounds of his sucking and slurping fill the room.
“Please,” she moans.
“Questions, Sasha,” I remind her quietly.
Her eyes open as she stares at me pleadingly. “What do you want to know?”
With one hand still on her neck, I begin playing with her tight rear hole with the other.
“Oh God,” her eyelids dip.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes widen, their gaze fixed on me. I make circles around the puckered ring of muscles, then press into its tightness. She can’t move under my hold but her breathing comes faster.
“Who was the man talking to you?” I whisper as I thrust my finger in and out of her.
I can hear Bull sucking. He’s probably got her lips and clit sucked deep in his mouth.
She opens her mouth but doesn’t speak immediately.
“Who, Sasha?” I ask again pulling my finger from her.
“Dominic,” she answers quickly, “his name is Dominic.”
“Good girl,” I push in two fingers. “Last name?”
Her eyes roll back in her head. “I don’t know it. He’s not from here.”
Her hips start to roll with the onslaught of fingers and tongues working her.
“What did he say to you?” I twist my fingers round and round.
“He said,” she pants, “he said I was an asset.”
A shot of anger explodes through me.
Men like him and James Williams only interpret how things can be used for their own personal gain. Some gains are very, very expensive.
I take my hand from her neck and slide my tie off. “Put your arms behind your back.” Her lust filled gaze focuses on me again as she places her hands at her lower back. Gripping both of her wrists with one hand, I remove my fingers from her ass and wrap the silk tie around her wrists. When I’m finished, I lift one of her legs and place it on the table. “Bulls going to fuck you now, and I’ll watch his fat cock slide in and out of you.”
Bull stands, his face is covered with Sasha’s wetness, as I step back and take a seat. “We should tie her legs too,” he says as he glides his length over slit.
“Please,” she moans, the sound coming from deep in her throat.
With my legs spread, I open my pants and pull out my stiff cock.
I’m going to enjoy this.
We’ve fucked Sasha together many, many times, that’s how this all started. But sometimes watching her get pounded with Bull’s massive dick is a beautiful fucking sight.
“Later. Fill her pussy up,” I begin to stroke myself. “Make her scream.”
He positions himself at her entrance. I can see Sash bracing herself. I smirk. Bull holds her open, and slams into her in one thrust. My grip tightens around my dick in a chokehold, I can feel Sasha as if it were me fucking her.
“Slow, Bull, let me watch you fuck her nice and slow.”
His hips begin the slow and steady tempo, pulling back almost all the way leaving just the head inside her, then pressing slowly back in. My hand begins to move up and down my hardness with the same rhythm. Bull’s watching himself disappear and reappear from her folds, his shaft wet and glistening with Sasha’s desire.
“More, please. More,” Sasha pleads.
She’s almost there, I can see it on her face. I can almost feel the familiar tightening of her walls on my dick, that’s how attuned I am to her.
“Harder, Bull.” My grip tightens around me.
He pulls back and slams into her, skin slaps skin, and his balls swing up and hit her clit. I can feel my own sacks tightening.
“Open your eyes and look at me, Sasha.”
Her eyes open and lock on mine. I can see everything she’s feeling in their depths, need, hunger, gratitude, longing, and something else I refuse to acknowledge.
“Do you like me watching Bull fuck you?” I ask her huskily.
Her eyes widen as she drags her lower lip between her teeth, her body bobbing with each of his thrusts.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” she whispers.
Fuck! I glide my fist down my shaft and squeeze, pushing back my release.
“Gabriel,” she whispers my name again. It makes my heart pound.
“Seeing that pretty pussy get filled with that fat cock as beautiful sight, pet,” I growl.
I can see her body tremble from my chair.
I stand, my hand still choking my dick, and walk to her. Sliding one hand underneath her, I clasp one of her nipples and pinch it. Hard.
Bull’s thrusting into her again and again, his low grunts sound like animal growls. He has no mercy for her as he bottoms out inside her, slamming into her again and again. He’s using her for his own pleasure, fucking her hard and deep, circling his hips with his massive thickness buried in her depths, him, his cock, and her pussy is all he knows right now.
She loves it. Me watching her getting used by Bull. Watching her face as she’s pushed to the edge.
I don’t let myself think about if it were anyone else. Not even her husband James.
“We’re both going to fuck you now,” I tell her as I untie her wrists. It’s almost a threat.
“Yes,” she moans.
“Come, darlin’,” Bull lifts her from the table, spins her around, and pushing into her again, wraps her legs around him and continues to move her body up and down his length.
Stripping my clothes off with my erection gripped in my hand, I tell him, “Give me some of that sweet pussy juice.”
“Gladly,” he’s got an evil grin on his face as he pulls her from him.
Gliding my hand over her slit, I gather her wetness and smear it over her asshole.
It’s not enough. I know it won’t be because I’m not going to be gentle.
But I don’t want to make the trek to the bedroom for the lube. Going to pantry, I take out the cooking oil and pour some in my palm and coat my shaft with it. If it’s good enough to eat, it’s good enough for her ass.
“Hold her tight,” I rasp out with my tip poise
d at her back entrance.
Bull wraps one arm around her waist and holds her with the other around her hips. Sasha’s got her arms under his and is holding on for dear life. Gripping her by the hips, I press my length into her.
“OH MY GOD,” she moans.
“Fuck,” I grit out tightly when I’m fully seated inside her.
I press my front against her back and glide my hands around her waist between hers and Bull’s bodies. Then I start to move.
Back and forth Bull and I go, I push in, Bull pulls out, back and forth, in and out, in a steady rhythm. Sasha’s trapped between our bodies, both of our cocks sawing in and out of her over and over again. She’s moaning, screaming, calling to God and me. Even in her ass, I can feel her tightening, ready to soar. I look at Bull over Sasha’s shoulder and nod. We push her down so we’re both filling her completely as I slide a hand down to find her clit.
As the tip of my fingers teases her sweet swollen nub, I tell her, “Come on our cocks, pet.”
She does. She screams out her release, it’s a beautiful fucking sound.
Bull holds her steady as I begin to thrust again, my own orgasm right behind hers. Then I hold her to me as her arms reach back and wrap around my neck. Bull pulls out and jerks off all over her stomach.
I plant kisses all over her neck and shoulders, giving her a small fraction of the turmoil of emotions churning around inside of me. She doesn’t know she’s already taken everything I’m capable of giving. No other woman has gotten this close.
That wasn’t supposed to happen. Not even fucking close.
I give it to her again and again when we take her upstairs. When I bury myself in her cunt and Bull fucks her mouth. When I take her from behind and she jerks him off. And finally when I tie her spread eagle to the bed and torture another orgasm out of her with a vibrator while I feast on her luscious tits.
With every orgasm I give her, I give her another piece of my damned soul.
CHAPTER 6
Gringo
The tattoo shop is still quiet. Rock hasn’t arrived yet, he’s either at home with Summer, or next door at her coffee shop, The Magic Bean. Bull is over there. I know because he called me to tell me he was following Gwendolyn there, and her grandmother, and was going to stay until one of us relieved him.
Gwendolyn is Bull’s interest. But he’d never admit it. That makes Mrs. Merriweather, her grandmother, his interest as well.
It really is obnoxious driving a Porsche around Riverbend. What can I say, I’m an obnoxious kind of guy. I don’t allow myself many indulgences, my car and my house are it. Fuck anyone who thinks that I’m a dick. I am. I don’t give a fuck.
When I pull into a space in the shopping center parking lot where our tattoo shop and Summer’s coffee shop is, I never cease to get ‘looks’. The men with appreciation for a fine ass machine. The women looking to see if there might be a prospective sugar daddy inside. When an inked biker gets out, all of them are shocked.
Today’s no different as I close door behind me and walk into the coffee shop. I smile as I remember the first time we all came in here. It seems like so long ago, but it’s now become sort of our place, all of ours.
“Gringo, lad, come and sit with an old woman. Tis too long since I’ve ‘ad a chance to ‘ave tea with the likes of you,” Mrs. Merriweather calls from ‘her’ table.
It feels like coming home.
Despite myself and all that I am, that feels fucking good.
“Mrs. Merriweather, I hope you’re keeping everyone in line here,” I smile at her as I take the seat next to her and pull off my sunglasses.
Her eyes widen behind the cateye glasses. “Ock, lad, what ‘ave you boys gotten yourself into while you were gone? A bit of a scruff?” she peers closer to my face to get a look at the fading bruises. “What were you lads about while you were gone?”
Her scrutinizing gaze makes me a little uncomfortable. For whatever reason, I don’t like lying to her. I don’t know how the hell this woman managed, but she’s become the matriarch to the four of us.
“Nothing. It was nothing. We were just having some fun, that’s all.” Why the hell do I feel ten years old?
The fact that Snake didn’t come back with us, couldn’t come back with us, is going to be a shit storm we’re going to have to come up with some answers to. Eventually. We owe Mrs. Merriweather some version of truth. The hell I know why, but we do.
“Horse shit, lad. That bunch of ill-mannered ‘eathens that the lot of you left ‘ere were as out of place as a whore in church. Bull ‘ere,” she thumbs in the direction of the big guy sitting quietly at her side looking about as happy as if he were getting a root canal, “Bull’s not said a word to what you boys ‘ave been about. Tis no good I tell you. I’ve a mind to pull the lot of you by your ears and give you a good chastising, I do.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest indignantly. “Hrrrmph.”
I love this woman.
I laugh, it’s loud and it feels good.
“Mrs. Merriweather,” Bull begins, and it’s almost timid.
I laugh harder.
“Don’t you ‘Mrs. Merriweather’ me lad,” she shoots him a stern look. “I’ve told you to call me Auntie Rose. As much as you’ve been sniffing after my Gwendolyn’s skirts, you’re like a puppy dog who followed us ‘ome.”
Bull looks like he wants to crawl under the table.
No one, absolutely no one speaks to him, to any of us, the way Mrs. Merriweather does.
We love her for it.
“Don’t be so hard on him. He was just taking care of you while we were gone,” I smile warmly at her. Turning my attention to Bull, “You ready for a coffee?”
Before the words leave my mouth, he’s standing, “I’ll get them.” He’s relieved to momentarily get away from Mrs. Merriweather’s wrath.
I chuckle as my gaze moves to the counter. Gwendolyn’s back there. She started working here while Summer was incapacitated. She’s watching Bull’s hulking figure approach her from beneath lowered lashes blushing like schoolgirl.
If she only knew.
“Auntie Rose?” I turn back to Mrs. Merriweather who’s picked up her knitting needles once again, making something and fuck if I know what it is, just as comfortable and at home as if she were in her own living room.
“That’s me name, lad. Why would ‘e be calling me something else?” Clack, clack, clack. “The boys practically me own son, although the likes of ‘im won’t be admitting it anytime soon.” Clack, clack, clack.
Perceptive old coot.
“It’s a lovely name,” I choose not to comment on it.
“Me name’s Primrose. Me family calls me Auntie Rose,” she peers at me over the top of her glasses, her hands never ceasing their whirlwind movements.
“No doubt. I’m sure you’d give them a lesson they’d never forget,” I smile at her, “Auntie Rose.”
A satisfied grin brightens her features. If I were human, it’d do something to me. But I’m not.
“Bull’s a good lad,” she states quietly. I don’t know if she’s speaking to me or to herself. “There’s none finer than the lot of you lads,” she continues in that same tone. “Twould be a shame if something should ‘appen to you,” there’s that pinning gaze again. “Any of you.”
No one’s cared, really cared like that. Not since my mother. Not since the night I changed. I thought I could hide it, there’d been nothing visible on the outside. All the horrors were inside. I couldn’t tell my mother anything, just like we can’t say anything to Mrs. Merriweather. It’s better that way, the less someone knows, the less they can be used against us.
Snake’s absence is going to be difficult to explain.
“We’re too mean for anything to happen to us. Messing with us would be like taking a swig of vinegar. They’d spit us back out,” I joke in an attempt to distract her.
“Posh, Gringo. Funny ‘ow those ‘eathens showed up when you lads ‘ad gone.”
Here we go. No wonder
Bull looked like he’d rather swallow poison than sit through Mrs. Merriweather’s interrogations.
“Bull needed some company,” I attempt to blow it off.
She snorts. “The only company ‘e’d been keeping is me and my Gwendolyn. Wouldn’t leave our sides, ‘e wouldn’t.” Another laser look. “Funny ‘ow that was right after our Summer’s little ‘accident’.” Her attention glides to the front of the coffee shop. “Not that I’d be complaining.” She nods with approval. “’e’s a good lad. Dumb as a damn ox, ‘e is, thinking I not be knowing ‘ow smitten ‘e is with Gwendolyn.”
She’s right. Gwen and Bull look like two teenagers dancing around the fact they’re crazy about each other. Shame he’ll never tell her.
Gwendolyn’s not the kind of girl a guy who loves to gang bang courts.
We don’t court. We fuck. It’s filthy and perverse. It’s what we do. What we’ve always done.
Gwen is the hearts and flowers kind of girl, the kind of girl who saves her virginity for her wedding night.
She’s perfect for Bull.
He thinks he’s not good enough for her.
Just like I’m not good enough for Sasha.
Which is why I’m her cock and she’s my whore.
“The silly notions you lads ‘ave,” she tsks me. Like she can read my mind. “’ow is that Sasha? I didn’t see ‘er the entire time you were gone.” Clack, clack, clack.
That gets my attention.
“She wasn’t in here at all?”
It’s no secret I’m seeing a married woman. Mrs. Merriweather is no fool. I’m not even going to insult her intelligence by attempting to lie.
“Not one single ‘air on ‘er ‘ead.” Clack, clack clack.
Is there something more that went on that she didn’t tell me?
“She’s been under a lot of stress lately.” I pause because if I had any morals it would be distasteful to say it, “Her husband received some sort of award yesterday. She must have been busy with the ceremony preparations.”
“Twas quite an affair I ‘eard. Got their picture in the paper and in some fancy magazine, too, they did.” She keeps on knitting. Not once has she lifted her gaze to meet mine, and her hands haven’t stopped their flurry of twisting and turning. “Seems to me all those friends Mr. Williams keeps ‘as kept ‘im busy, they ‘ave.” Clack, clack, clack.
Tortured Page 5
