by Nikki Wild
Wrapping my thighs around his head, I stiffened all over. His fingers curled inside me. Pressed downwards, then spun. I grabbed his hair with one hand, screaming curses into the air, begging to be pushed past my own senses. He stopped moving - for one awful half-second, he stopped everything. Leaving me poised in suffocating need.
Until he sucked my clit between his lips and pressed his fingers to my g-spot, and everything let go. My whole loving body released, desperate agony in the pleasure that rushed against my nerves. The kind of release that hurt so good. Like every muscle was stretched to its breaking point and a little further.
My toes curled, my hands bunching in his hair, my breasts shaking along with every spasm. Before it was even over, I had to push his head away, the feel of his tongue on my clit too much to bear. He slid his tongue downward instead, collecting my pleasure on his tongue like it was nectar. Crawling over my body, I knew from the smile on his face that this was just beginning.
I was in deep fucking trouble.
"Christ," I panted, holding him off for a second. "Where'd you learn that?"
"Sunday school," he said, rising onto his knees, towering over me. I watched his hands work his belt, then the button of his jeans. That monster against his thigh...I couldn't drag my eyes away, not until I saw it for real. I know I moaned when it finally popped free, long as a snake and twice as thick. My eyes flicked up towards his, and he read every dirty thought in my mind.
"Some people just get lucky," he grinned, holding himself and fiddling with a condom that appeared out of nowhere. That grin only darkened as he let his eyes roamed over my body again, from my head down to the split in my legs where I was still leaking pleasure onto the sheets. "But I guess you know about that."
"What..." I leaned up, my lips drawn towards the glistening head of his cock like iron drawn to a magnet.
"No," he said, releasing his cock long enough to grab the back of my neck. "I got a better idea.”
I didn't know what the fuck he was talking about, and I didn't care, either. Not when he pulled me up by my neck, forcing my lips to land against his once more. Indulging in the taste of myself that lingered on his tongue, the dirtiness of it, I let my naked body slip against his, both of us on our knees on the bed. That massive rod of his slid between my legs, but it merely slid between my moist lips, torturing me with its closeness. I tried to grind against it, to no avail.
Sinner pulled at me until he had me off the bed and on my feet; I barely even registered the change, losing myself so deeply in his kiss. But I did feel it when he slammed me against the wall; hard enough to make the shitty lamp on the shitty bedside table fall over.
I gasped at his force, the weight of his body pressing me against the paint. He grabbed my wrists in one huge hand and pulled them over my head, his hot breath on my cheek as he nudged and forced me into position. One hand on my wrists. Another on my hip, keeping me pinned to the wall. He towered over me, my eyes wide as I looked up into his. He looked down at me with complete, perfect control. He licked his lips.
"In two seconds, I'm going to be between your legs, fucking you like the devil himself," he said, a promise and a warning. "Once I start, I don't stop. Can you take that?"
My breath drew in short. I nodded. He growled, forcing himself a little closer, his hard cock pressed to my bare thigh, where I could feel myself dripping.
"Say it," he demanded, releasing my hip only long enough to grab himself and guide his cock towards my entrance. At the same time, he pulled my arms down to circle his neck. "Tell me just how bad you want it."
"Please," I murmured. "Fuck me."
"Your funeral," he teased through a brawny grin. He grabbed my thighs, yanked my feet off the ground, and plunged forward. My pussy immediately stretched around his girth, my breath literally taken away. Eye-to-eye, we clung together, his cock buried in my heated center, my body needing time to accept him without pain. Slowly, he pulled away, then dug deep again. Thrusting into me long and hard, eyes boring into mine. His mouth was slowly twisting into something like a snarl as I felt his body bunch with pent-up tension. He wanted to go faster, harder.
By then, it's what I wanted, too.
"Faster," I groaned as he plunged forward and down, tickling my deepest wells of pleasure. "Fuck me like an animal, Sinner."
He grunted his acceptance of my challenge, and increased the speed and depth of his strokes. I let my head hit the wall, eyes closing as he supported my full weight in his arms. Each time he pierced me, I cried out.
"Oh, fuck, Sinner," I sang. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."
Heat rushed my cheeks, radiating through my body as he obeyed, finally slamming into me so hard that my body bounced and smacked against the wall. The overturned lamp fell to the floor.
"This what you want?" he huffed in my ear, drumming himself against me, balls smacking my ass, my calves crossed around his waist. "Come for me, Lucy. Come on this cock."
I clenched him tighter and opened my eyes, saw his handsome face over mine, his gray eyes demanding. My mouth opened to cry out again, but nothing came out. My throat closed up. My eyebrows knit together as I was sent into aching paralysis. He leaned in, planted his lips against my ear, and took care to swirl his tongue around my flesh when he spoke again.
"That's right, babe. I want you to drip. Break for me...."
"Sinner," I whimpered his name one last time as the fever broke and my body trembled in ecstasy. The heat that was overwhelming me cooled as my body flipped from needing to having, my pleasure making me squeak out a scream. I dug my nails into his back, my pussy clenching around his shaft, dripping down his balls while he watched me writhe. The tide began to ebb, and I gasped, meeting his eyes, seeing a grin on his face. My first thought coming down from my climax was that I wanted to wipe that grin right off.
"Let me go," I breathed. He was still buried inside me, pulsing, and now he quirked an eyebrow.
"Didn't peg you for the cum-and-run type," he muttered, grabbing my ass tighter. He still filled me so deliciously that asking him to stop took all my will.
"I'm not," I challenged. "But let me go."
He stared me down, and I thought he wouldn't do it. He certainly didn't stop pumping his hips into me like he meant to burn right through the rubber that separated his flesh from mine.
"I promise," I whispered. "You'll like it."
Well, that convinced him. I hit the floor with a squeal, dizzy and suddenly empty. I couldn't have known how empty I would feel without his prick filling me, but I couldn't take it back now. I was already on my knees, pulling the condom off, and wrapping my fist around his base. His dick throbbed, heavy and mouth-watering.
I leaned in; he smelled like sex, like me. Moaning, I wrapped him in my lips, rolling my tongue slowly across the tip. He groaned and immediately buried his hands in my hair, taking fistfuls of it. I could tell he wanted to thrust straight into my throat and fuck me raw, but he let me begin slow, bobbing up and down as I ran my tongue along the wide vein underneath it. Each time, I managed another inch.
I never did things like this; I wasn't even sure if I was really doing it right, I just knew that he was beginning to pulse his hips, his hands fisting in my hair. Impulsively, I reached down between my legs, where my pussy still dripped with arousal. Circling my clit with my fingers, I felt jolts of pleasure race up my spine.
I must have looked good, fucking myself with his cock in my mouth, because it sent Sinner over the edge. He grabbed my head with both hands and started thrusting between my lips, using my mouth like his own personal sex toy. He abused my throat, stroking himself deep while I hummed around his shaft. My fingers played around my clit, the feel of his dick in my throat driving my desire.
Even when I started to gag, tears threatening my cheeks, I just felt more and more like I was veering towards another peak. I looked up at him, saw the tension in his jaw, the fire in his eyes. Swallowing, I let him use me as fast and hard as he needed. I felt the throb as his whole body te
nsed up.
"Holy shit, Lucy," he groaned, my name on his lips making me melt. "I can't...fucking...god, woman!"
The first burst of his cum in my throat triggered me, and I shuddered as a final orgasm rolled through me. I swallowed everything he had to give me, his seed thick and hot. There was too much of it to swallow, it filled my cheeks and dripped from my lips as he held my head in place and released himself into my throat.
I loved it, shaking with my climax as he did the same. I loved the look on his face as I finally gave him what he'd already given me, turning the tables on him at last. He pulled away with a low roar, his cock still hard, trailing cum to my lips.
Feeling numb, blissed out and dirty and sexy, I licked my lips with a moan and pulled my hand away. It was soaked with my own pleasure, and Sinner grabbed my wrist, yanking to my feet, sucking my fingers into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. I was shaking, barely able to stand as he licked the pleasure from my fingers, acting like it was the world's sweetest lollipop. When he finally released me, I stumbled back, onto the bed, eyes closed and breath finally turning steady.
Holy hell.
I'd never been touched like that. Let alone fucked like that. Not that I was bursting with experience, but still. I could tell this wasn't normal. This was downright dangerous. Loving like that could turn into trouble real quick. He collapsed back onto the bed beside me and I didn't dare turn to look at him. But he grabbed my hand, twining his fingers with mine, pulling my palm onto his chest, where I could feel his heartbeat slowly going back to normal.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said. "And now I'm supposed to just let you go?"
He turned to me, eyes blazing. I finally got up the nerve to face him, and immediately regretted it.
"Not a fucking chance," he said.
Chapter 11
Sinner
She lay in my arms on the bed. She fit there, too perfectly. God, this woman was something else. I hadn't felt like that inside a woman in - well, ever. Like she was sucking my damn soul out of my cock. Like I was fucking lucky to be inside her. This was dangerous. Even Danielle hadn't made me feel like this; not even close.
"What does this one mean?" She asked, tapping a tattoo on my chest. She'd been going through them all, and there were a lot to go through. That paw print she told me about was just beside her hipbone, over her tight little sex. My mouth watered just thinking about it, cock stirring again.
But the tattoo she pointed out on my body quieted it all back down.
Three lines. Three lives. I could lie, make something up. But somehow, it felt wrong to lie. Like just because she was naked and lying in my arms, that meant I owed her some part of my soul. Even the darkest part.
"Men I've killed," I said flatly. Her fingers curled. I didn't dare look down and see her expression.
"For good reason?"
"Depends," I said. "I don't think there are too many good reasons. But yeah, every one of them was going to kill me first, or one of my brothers."
She hummed a bit against my chest. “Is that why they call you Sinner?”
“No,” I said with a grim smile. “They call me that because my pop was a preacher.”
“No fucking way,” she said, eyes wide. “And this is how you turned out?”
“Sure know how to make a man feel good,” I teased. “My pop may have been a man of God, but he believed the Lord’s ‘mysterious ways’ involved a lot of corporeal punishment. Think naked flagellation. Left a bad taste in my mouth.”
“Oh,” she said softly, tracing those three lines. “I see. I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
“No,” I said. “It’s not. It’s over, that’s what it is. And it’s inspiration for everything I’ll never do to Amy. I want to be the father he wasn’t. I never want her to get hurt – ever.”
She hummed again, looking up at me, stroking my beard with one hand. That felt nice. Better than a warm towel at the barber’s. She smelled like sex and perfume, a hint of something spicy and exotic behind all of it.
"Does it bother you?" I asked. “The tattoo, what it means?”
She gave me a light chuckle, then looked up into my eyes.
"Did you already forget who I am?"
Right. A Bratva girl. They were just as bad as the Rogue Tide.
A Bratva girl. Which meant this was over before it even began.
Before I could stop it, a growl rose up through my throat.
"What?" she asked, rising to her elbows, hair flowing over my chest.
I couldn’t answer that, because I didn’t know what was bothering me so much. I felt angry. Because soon enough, she’d be leaving.
And I didn’t want her to leave.
I should have wanted her to leave. Hell, this was the ideal situation. I got a nice long taste of what she had to offer, and we had every reason in the world to break away and never come back together. She was a one-and-done wet dream.
But dammit if that felt unsatisfying as fuck. I wanted more.
At the end of the night, she was going to walk away. She’d find some man who wasn't associated with her family's arch nemeses. She’d let him try and make her shake and cum the way I did. Fat fucking chance, but the very idea of another man touching her after I'd laid my claim - fuck that. It made me feel like adding another line to the tattoo on my chest.
It made me feel like fucking her until she couldn’t walk away.
“Seriously, what? You look all constipated,” she said. I grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her against me. She yelped, but she couldn't fight me, and fell onto my chest, right where I wanted her. She landed laughing.
"I like the way you look when you’re looking at me," I said, reaching for her ass and squeezing. She moaned, struggling just a little bit. But I could feel her sex, still wet, against my torso. And I could feel how all that struggling just made her slide down, until she was poised over my stiffening cock, her cheeks reddening as my tip spread her wide.
“Wait,” she gasped, and I did. “After this…”
A flash of pain marred the anticipation in her eyes.
“I have to leave,” she said slowly. “Really. I have to go.”
"No," I grunted, bucking my hips to slide between her folds.
"Yesss," she hissed, dripping over my shaft. Her eyes began to roll back, but I saw her struggle back into sanity, and now she was the one who grabbed my hair, using it to lift herself over me, away from my cock. "I fucking mean it, you cad. Last. Time. Agree, or I'm walking out that door right now."
Studying her, I saw that she was serious. Even as my spirits fell, I couldn't stop the lust rising through me. Fine. Fine. If that's what she wanted, if she wanted this to be the last time, I could deal with it. Just as long as I got to feel that hot, wet little pussy clenching around me. It would hurt like fuck to let her go, but it would hurt even worse if she walked away right now.
"Fine," I grit out. "Last time. Make it fucking memorable, babe."
Moaning, she lowered down, impaling herself on my dick, burying us both in a torrent of passion.
Memorable? Fuck. She might as well have tattooed her name on my cock. I was never going to forget this woman. And good fucking luck to any woman who came after and tried to outdo her. I'd never been in prison, but for a second there, her delicious hips swiveling around my dick, I knew what it was like to be a prisoner.
Chapter 12
Lucya
"Remember, I want to see a nice haircut on that head of yours next time," I said, ruffling Bobby Taylor's shaggy mane. He was giving his parents a hell of a time, refusing to go to the barber shop for a haircut. Measles shot? No problem. Blood test? Loved it. Scissors near his hair? No friggin' way, man!
He rolled his eyes but waved back at me as his mother led him out the door. I turned to Jenny and smiled.
"Last patient of the day?" I asked hopefully. She shook her head, handing me a file.
"Sorry, this one just snuck in," she said. I made a conscious effort not to groan. If you act
like you hate your job, you feel a lot worse about it. I could pretend that my feet didn't hurt and my mind wasn't stretched thin, if only so that I could smile my way through one last patient.
It had been an exceptionally long day. Mostly because of Sinner. I knew I was being unfair to myself - it wasn't like I was coming out of a long-term relationship. I just couldn't date the guy I wanted to date. 16-year-old girls could pine away about something like that, but not 27-year-old women. There'd be other men. Just because his touch haunted me, my body burning when I thought of him, didn't mean I wouldn't get over it soon enough. It had been a week. Give it two weeks, maybe three. I'd be just fine.
It wasn’t like he was pining for me. He’d let me go easy enough. I was a little hurt by the fact he didn’t ask me to stay the night, or see me again, but I was the one laying down the one-time-only rule. So I couldn’t really complain. Besides, a man like Sinner had charm oozing from his ears, and the looks to make that charm unnecessary. He wasn’t lacking in women to erase me from his memory.
Shit. Even talking myself out of thinking about him meant that I was thinking about him.
And the name on the folder Jenny handed me didn't help matters. Amy Jeanine Parks. My eyes bugged out.
"Amy? Again? What's she in here for?"
I glanced at Jenny, who gave me a smirk I could have done without.
"Don't you mean who brought her in?"
"No," I snipped. "I don't."
Since Jenny wasn't being helpful, I flipped the folder open to check out the intake form. I didn't like what I saw, but it didn't mean anything - yet. A dislocated shoulder was something we saw three times a day. Kids are always messing up their bodies.
But dislocated shoulders, historically, had a higher rate of bad news attached to them than certain other ailments.
