Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  Standing with my back to the wall, I watch wide-eyed. Zachary slams the girl against the door, his hand around her throat. I can’t take my eyes off of her, her face is red, turning almost purple. He tilts his head to the side, his entire body held loose, except for the arm that’s attached to the hand squeezing her neck.

  “You don’t fight me, not ever,” he growls. Her hand lifts and wraps around his wrist in an attempt to pull his hand from around her. He laughs, shaking his head. “You spread your thighs, you do not fight, now stop,” he demands.

  Her hand drops, and I watch as her body goes completely limp. Only then, when she’s completely given up, does he loosen his hold on her. He doesn’t release her completely though. He keeps his hand firmly around her neck, waiting for her to smart off to him again.

  She’s new. She looks around my age, maybe a couple years older. “My Old Man will look for me,” she chokes.

  Zachary shakes his head, his laughter filling the room. It sounds evil because he’s evil. He leans forward, his nose practically touching hers. “By the time he finds you, you’ll be so used up that he won’t even recognize you. Tonight, I’m giving you my baby, and once you deliver it, I’ll place you with another man to breed you, then another, and another. Do you think your Old Man will want you after you’ve popped out a dozen kids?”

  I clench my fists at his cruel words, my nails digging into my skin, cutting me and assuredly causing me to bleed.

  “Whitley,” Zachary bellows, slowly turning his head to look directly at me.

  I hate it when he sees me. Usually, I stay completely out of sight—out of mind. I take care of his strangely quiet brood of children but am otherwise unnoticed and I like it that way. Tonight, I made a mistake by sneaking out of my room when I heard the new girl scream.

  “Strap her down for me. I can tell she’s going to fight,” he smiles.

  His smile is evil, sending a chill up my spine, but I do as he requests. I always do as he requests. Walking over to the bed, I lift the top of the mattress and pull out the restraint straps, then do the same at the foot of the bed before walking over to the other side and tugging that side’s restraints from beneath the mattress as well.

  Taking a step back, I bow my head and look to my feet while he struggles to get her on the bed. “Strap her in,” he grunts.

  Lifting my head, I notice that he’s put her face down and is restraining one side of her body. Slowly, I walk up to the other side, restraining her leg, then her arm as tears stream down my face. She looks at me, her eyes dead—lifeless. She’s given up, like so many women before her.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. She doesn’t respond.

  Zachary strips and I turn to leave them alone. “Whitley,” he calls and my body freezes. Turning around, I wait for further instruction. “I want you to watch. See what happens when you fight your leader. You wouldn’t do that, would you?” he practically purrs.

  I shake my head, almost violently. It’s bad enough I’ll be able to hear her crying and pleading for help, I don’t want to watch, too. Zachary begins to stroke his dick, his eyes scanning my body.

  “If you’d lose twenty pounds, you could be her, Whitley. You could be my queen. You’re perfect in every other way,” he grins as his eyes stare at my breasts. “Now watch, watch as your leader creates a new soldier for the cause.”

  I sit up, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to catch my breath. Pulling the sheet up my chest, I grip it tightly, pinching my eyes closed as I try to calm down.

  “The fuck,” a voice growls from next to me.

  My body freezes, and I slowly turn my head to see Free looking up at me. He’s lying down, his brows knit together, his bare chest on display. He has a smattering of dark chest hair that covers his otherwise unmarked torso. I expected to see tattoos littering his body, but there aren’t any and I find that focusing on that, helps to calm me.

  “Bad dream,” I explain.

  Free makes a hissing sound, lifting his hand and wrapping it around my wrist that’s holding the sheet to my chest. He tugs it down, taking my entire body with it until my side lands against his chest.

  “Free?” I ask looking down at him.

  “Tell me about it,” he demands into the dark room.

  I shake my head, trying to push off of his warm body. “There’s nothing to tell. It was just a dream,” I state, still trying and failing to push away from his strong body. His other arm wraps around my back and tugs me even closer, clamping down around me to still my movements.

  “It wasn’t a dream, that was a nightmare and you were reliving something in the past. I know what it’s like, Kitten. Now, tell me.”

  His words are a demand, one not to be defied. I let out a sigh, closing my eyes as I slowly relax against his hold, letting the side of my face rest against his chest. He’s warm, and the hair on his body tickles my cheek, but I like it.

  My breasts ache, remembering how he kissed and touched me hours ago, wishing he would have done more, wishing he would have relieved some of this wound up feeling inside of me.

  Free’s arms tighten around me before they relax again, and I tell him. I tell him every detail about my dream, then I continue to tell him what happened to the poor girl after I woke up. The memories are so vivid, as if I’m seeing them right in front of me, re-enacting them all over again.

  “He didn’t care. He fucked her and made me watch. I refused to look. Instead, I kept my eyes focused on hers, but it broke a part of me. She wasn’t there. It was like her eyes were open and she was looking right at me, but she was completely gone somewhere else,” I admit as a tear falls down my cheek.

  “You did what you had to, Kitten. She probably went to a place inside of her head to cope with what was happening. You were there for her as best you could be. You did the best you could,” he murmurs into the dark room.

  Free lifts his hand from my back and begins to sift his fingers through my hair. “The only thing that saved me from Zachary was the fact that I’m fat. Maybe if I would have been thinner, he would have hurt me instead of her,” I admit with a shaky breath.

  Free’s hand freezes, his fingers curling in my hair, gripping it tightly before he tugs it back. “What?” he grinds out.

  “That’s what he told me. If I dropped twenty pounds, I could be his queen.”

  Free growls, rolling me onto my back as his hips fit between my thighs. I don’t move. I’m not scared, but I’m breathless as I look into his black eyes. His hand is still gripping my hair, while the other rests next to my head as his anchor so he doesn’t smash me.

  “If I could kill him again, I fucking would,” he growls. “You are not fat. You are goddamn perfect,” he says, lowering his head.

  His lips brush mine and my breath hitches. “I’m not perfect by any means, Free. I’m chubby, I know that I am. But I like the fact that you don’t think it, too.”

  Free tugs my head back, forcing my neck to arch as his lips slowly kiss down the column of my neck. He sucks on the skin, gently nipping me, leaving me a mushy puddle beneath him, before he lifts his head and speaks again.

  “You are not chubby. You are nothing but gorgeous dips and curves, and tits and ass. You are goddamn beautiful, Whitley. Some men like skinny bitches. Some men like fat bitches. I like tits and ass, and a waist, and thighs that I can grab ahold of. All shit that you’ve got, and Kitten, you’ve got it in all the right places.”

  My breaths turn into pants, as I look up at him, wide-eyed and speechless. Thankfully, he doesn’t require me to speak. He lowers his head and presses his lips to mine, his tongue sliding deep inside before he tastes me. I whimper, my thighs automatically spreading as my arms wrap around his back and I arch closer toward him. Nothing but my thin shirt and cotton panties separate us.

  He rolls his hips and I feel his hard length press against my center. Moaning, I lift my hips to meet his and I bite my bottom lip with satisfaction when he lets out a groan of his own.

  “Whitley, I need to
stay away from you,” he grunts.

  Sliding one of my hands up his warm back, I twist my fingers in the short hair at the nape of his neck. “No, Free. You make me feel, don’t push me away,” I practically beg.

  “If you knew, Kitten. If you really knew me, you’d run,” he warns.

  I shake my head, pressing my lips against his own in a chaste kiss. “I don’t care. I’m yours, take me,” I offer.

  FREE

  I’m yours, take me.

  Her words, they make me fucking snap. Crashing my lips against hers, I do exactly what I’ve been trying not to do since the second I laid eyes on her. Sliding my hand up her thick thigh, I tug her panties down. I left her naked and untouched earlier tonight, but never again.

  My cock aches for her, aches to claim her as mine—only mine.

  She shifts beneath me, helping her panties down her legs, then kicking them off of her ankles while I kiss down her neck. Slowly, I slide the shirt she’s wearing up her body, my shirt she’s wearing. She looks so goddamn sexy in it, that if it weren’t her first time, I’d fuck her in this fucking shirt.

  Kissing down her chest, I suck one of her hardened nipples in my mouth, tasting her sweetness. Her fingers tighten in my hair and she arches her back against me, silently begging for more. Opening my mouth wider, I suck her deeper, wishing I could take the whole tit in my mouth.

  Curling my fingers around her other breast, I grip her tightly as I feast on her, nipping and sucking on every square inch of her fat tit.

  “Free,” she whimpers, her hips rolling and searching.

  Lifting my mouth from her nipple, I kiss down her stomach until I get to the mound of her cunt. Spreading her lips with my fingers, I flatten my tongue against her center, sucking her clit gently.

  “Oh, God,” she cries, lifting her hips closer to my face.

  I chuckle, loving the surprised gasps and sounds she’s making. Everything is new, everything is exciting, and it’s all sexy as fuck.

  Closing my eyes, I fuck her with my mouth. I want to taste her innocence on my tongue. Maybe it’s fucked up, no, I know that it is, there’s no maybe about it. I don’t care though—I’m fucked up.

  Her hips begin to move involuntarily, and her wetness floods my tongue. Shifting my focus onto her clit, I slip one finger inside of her tight cunt and she sobs as her thighs shake.

  Lifting one of my hands, I wrap it around the inside of her thigh and hold her leg open while I continue to flick her clit with my tongue and my finger fucks her tight heat.

  Her fingers, grip me, tightening in my hair and I smile when her pussy clamps down around my finger. She lets out a long cry, her body locking up tightly as she comes, her taste better than I ever imagined possible.

  “Holy hell,” she breathes.

  I kiss up her stomach, slowly removing my finger from her center, making my way toward her lips. Reaching beneath my bed, I grab a condom out of the box I have stashed, as I fill her mouth with my tongue. She lifts her legs, wrapping them around my waist and I grunt as my cock slides against her wet warmth.

  Gently breaking the kiss, I sit up on my knees. Ripping the condom wrapper open with my teeth, I quickly roll it down my length.

  “Whitley?” I ask, looking down at her, my sheathed cock in hand.

  “Please, Free. Make me yours, only yours,” she begs.

  There’s more to her words than some simple sentiment. I know she’s probably scared I’ll whore her out to the other brothers. Or that once I’m finished playing with her, she’ll have that same fate. She doesn’t know though.

  She doesn’t realize that I’ve never claimed a woman before, that I’ve never made one mine this way. I don’t tell her that she’ll never be whored, that she’ll always be mine to protect. Call me a manipulative asshole, but I don’t know if I’ll ever tell her.

  Pressing the head of my cock against her tight center, I slowly push inside of her with a grunt. My eyes slide closed the farther I slip into her body. She feels so fucking good, and I curse this goddamn condom, wishing I could feel her skin against my own.

  I feel her barrier; her innocence and I open my eyes. Her amber gaze is wild as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.

  “Look at me, Whitley. I’m making you mine, Kitten. You won’t ever have to worry about a fucking thing again, you’re mine now,” I rasp as I break through her barrier.

  She lets out a cry as tears slide down her temples, but her eyes stay glued to my own. Once I’m completely planted inside of her, I widen my knees, wrapping my arms around her back and lift her slightly.

  Brushing my lips across hers, I slowly slip my tongue inside of her and kiss. I taste, and tease. My cock is unmoving, no matter how badly I want to pound her into the mattress. Tonight, I won’t take anymore from her, I’ll save that shit for another day.

  Her arms wrap around my back, and she lifts even more, her chest pressing against my own. Whitley’s hips roll, and I groan as she moves on my cock.

  “Free,” she whispers against my lips.

  Moving my hands to her hips, I hold her as she fucks me. It’s the one and only time she’ll have control like this, and I’m giving this to her so that she feels like this was her choice. Maybe it’s just to ease my own guilty conscious, I don’t know, but I don’t really give a fuck either.

  Whitley was mine the moment I saw her, this was to be her fate. Now, or months down the road—doesn’t really fucking matter.

  “You feel good, Kitten,” I groan, looking straight into her eyes.

  She hums. Her body moving a little faster. I grind my teeth together, my fingers gripping her waist, trying to hold back. She’s so fucking tight, and I’ve been on edge for hours, I’m not sure how long I’m going to last. Slipping one of my hands between us, I press my thumb against her clit.

  She gasps, her eyes dropping to our connection, and then back to me. “Come again, Kitten. I want to feel you.”

  She bites on the corner of her lip as her hips move, and her clit rubs against my thumb. Her little whimpers are sexy as fuck, her hair is as wild as her eyes and I just let her fucking consume me.

  I’ll feel guilty later, not only for taking her innocence but also because I’m claiming her in a way I never did Gemma. Right now, I don’t feel an ounce of guilt. Whitley is mine to take.

  “It’s too much,” she cries as her hips jerk against mine.

  I chuckle, shaking my head. “No, Kitten. It’s just right. Relax and let that feeling take over your entire fucking body.”

  Watching her, feeling her, and waiting. I know when she’s about to detonate. When her pussy clamps down around my cock, I clench my jaw and try to keep from coming but I can’t. I let go at the same time I hear her loud cries fill the room. I hold onto her as best as I can, my own muscles trembling as I fill the condom with my release, wishing it was filling her cunt instead.

  She collapses against me, her face nuzzling my neck as she attempts to catch her breath. “I should get off, I’m heavy,” she pants.

  My arms tighten around her, holding her against me. “You’re fucking perfect,” I grunt.

  I keep her right where she is—right where she belongs.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WHITLEY

  I curl even deeper into the warmth surrounding me. Arms flex around me and my eyes slowly open, looking down to see Free’s arms wrapped around my waist and chest. His hand squeezes my breast, and my body begins to heat.

  I’m lying naked next to him, naked. My chin dips when I think about what happened last night. I had sex with him, and it was like nothing I’d ever imagined it could be. It was, dare I say, beautiful, something I didn’t think existed in this world, or in my old one at least.

  Free’s lips touch my neck, then my shoulder. “Mornin’, Kitten,” he murmurs against my skin. I gasp when his hand travels down my stomach and gently teases the curls between my legs with his fingertips. “Open,” he demands.

  Lifting my top leg slightly, his hand cups me and my eyes
slide closed. My center is tender, but his warm grip feels heavenly. I push my ass against him, my back arching. “You tender, Kitten?” he rasps.

  “Yeah,” I admit.

  I don’t try to hide it or pretend that I’m not. However, I also know that he’s not a man that would really give much of a shit either way. I’m under no illusion that last night’s tenderness was something normal for him.

  He slides two fingers inside of me and I let out a hiss at the pain. He continues to suck and kiss on my shoulder, moving toward my neck as his hips flex. I can feel his hard length between my ass cheeks, sliding between them as his fingers pump in and out of me. His movements are slow, but not as soft and gentle as last night.

  My face heats when I hear the wet sounds his fingers make as he begins to pump faster into my center. “Fuck,” he hisses against my neck. “I need to be inside of that wet pussy,” he grunts.

  Free pulls his fingers out of me, then pushes me onto my stomach. I hear him rustling around for a moment, then his hands are wrapped around my waist and he roughly yanks my hips back at the same time his cock fills me.

  I cry out as he stretches me and fills me to the point where it burns slightly. My fingers fist the bedding beneath me and I close my eyes. Free groans as he pulls out of me and then slides back inside. His fingers tighten around my hips and on the third thrust, he slams inside of me so hard I can feel my ass shake from the power of his hips.

  “Hold on, Kitten,” he warns as one of his hands slides down my spine.

  His fingers twist in my hair and tug my head back. I’m bent, bowed in a way I didn’t think was possible. Free takes the opportunity to fuck me. It’s not anything other than pure, raw, fucking. He pounds into me from behind, my body unmovable as he holds me still. I stay perfectly still for him, doing as instructed, holding on.

  I feel the sting against my ass before I hear the noise of his slap. “Goddamn, you feel good,” he growls, his hips bucking and jerking harder and faster.