Torment (B.A.D. Inc Book 1)

by Angel Devlin

  Pulling her up my body, I find her lips and plunge my tongue past them in search of hers.

  I don’t kiss women. I usually fuck them, take what I need and walk away. Kissing is intimate and gives women the wrong idea, but I find myself unable to keep my lips from Mia’s. They call to me like I’m a fucking addict craving my next hit.

  Our lips move together as our hands leisurely trail around each other’s bodies. My tongue explores every inch of her mouth, but she gives as good as she gets. Her knees land either side of my hips and she grinds her hot little pussy down on my already hardening cock.

  Pressing my hands to her back, I sit, putting us chest to chest.

  “Can’t get enough of you.” She tips her head back when I begin trailing kisses down her neck, allowing me to take whatever I need. When I get to her bra, I pull each cup down, exposing her hardened nipples. I pull one into my mouth, and then the other. Licking, sucking and biting until she’s moaning my name and begging for more.

  “Fuck me, Deacon. Fuck. Me.”

  Her eyes find mine. They’re dark and wild, the alcohol and weed mixing and pushing her inhibitions aside so she can admit exactly what she needs.

  “I need you inside me. I need you to make me come harder than I ever have, and I need you to make me forget.”

  My fingers trail down her stomach and slip inside her lace thong.

  “That all depends on one thing.” My voice is deep and rough, giving away just how badly I need those things too.

  “Oh?”

  “On how wet and ready you are for me.”

  I tease over her lips, but I already know she’s fucking soaked.

  “Deacon. Please. I fucking need you right now.” She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as I find her entrance and thrust two fingers deep inside her. I bend them, finding her little bundle of nerves that is sure to set her off. I tease her until she’s fucking my fingers, but at no point do I allow her to hit her climax.

  “Please, please,” she begs, her back arching, her tits thrusting right in my face. I pull one of her nipples into my mouth and bite until she cries out, her hands threading in my hair. She pulls as if she wants me to stop, but the moans and mewls that fall from her lips tell a different story.

  “You ready to see stars, Ms. Hamilton?”

  “Yes. Fuck yes. Give it to me, Deacon,” she all but screams.

  In one quick move I have her on her hands and knees, her thong ruined and thrown to the floor somewhere with me lined up behind her.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she chants as I tease her entrance with the head of my cock.

  It aches to be inside her. Every muscle in my body burns with my need to fill her with everything I have and not let her go.

  Since the moment I figured out who she was, I had every intention of ruining her but the more time I spend with her, the more of her body I discover, the more I’m finding I want to be the only one to be able to do it. The thought of anyone having her after me just isn't an option.

  This woman is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to please. Mine to fucking destroy.

  When the temptation to bottom out in her tight pussy gets too much, I thrust forward until I hit her womb.

  “Fuck,” she grunts, surging forward. I catch her hips just before she faceplants the pillow and pull her back up.

  Her walls ripple around me, the red hot heat almost too much to handle.

  “Your fucking pussy. It’s fuck… fucking everything.”

  She looks back over her shoulder, a smug smile on her lips, her eyes darker than I’ve ever seen.

  “Do your worst,” she repeats.

  Letting go of one of her hips, I grab my phone I dropped while I was balls deep in her mouth.

  “Mia?” She turns back and I snap a photo with her dark, desire-filled eyes staring right into the camera. There’s no denying what she wants right this second.

  That’s the fucking money shot right there with my cock as deep as possible inside her and her sparkling eyes begging me for more.

  Dropping it in favour of the woman beneath my hands, I pull almost all the way out before thrusting back and making her cry my name.

  Electricity shoots off around my body as I set a punishing pace. My skin burns as I move. Mia cries out for more. My fingers grip onto her hips so hard I’ve no doubt that she’ll have my prints bruised into her for a good few days. The perfect reminder to her of what we have here, or at least what she thinks we do.

  “Ready for more?” I pant between thrusts.

  “Everything.”

  I pull out enough to coat my finger in her juices and then run it around her puckered hole. She trembles beneath me, but I don’t miss her pushing back into me for more.

  Pushing against her muscle, I slip my digit inside.

  She cries out as I thrust deeper in both her holes. My muscles strain with my attempt at self-control. I need to take her arse more than I need my next breath, but I want her ready.

  I try another digit alongside the first and she accepts it, any inhibitions loosened.

  “Do it, Deacon. Take me there. I want you so fucking bad,” she cries.

  I withdraw my cock from her pussy and I tease it at her back entrance, her juices and my precum mixing around this unchartered territory. I push the tip in and feel her tense.

  “It burns a little.”

  “Shh, relax,” I tell her and not going any further, I flick her clit and tease her pussy until I feel her relax again and then I inch in a little further. Once my tip is in and she’s relaxed, the rest of my dick slides in easier, but I continue to go slow.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes. Don’t stop. Make me come, Deacon, I beg you.”

  There are the words I’ve been waiting to hear. I continue to fuck her arse while I play with her clit and fuck her pussy with my fingers until soon she’s bucking wildly over my hand while I’m releasing my cum.

  “Oh my god, oh my god.” She repeats over and over and then she collapses onto my bed, rolling onto her back. Her head is on my pillow, her hair fanned out and she wears a smug smile of the well fucked.

  “I’ve done it,” she says to me languidly.

  “You have. No longer a butt virgin.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t mean that. I mean I’ve fucking done it. I’ve fallen for Deacon King.” Then she closes her eyes and goes to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mia

  I wake up sore, exhausted, and… wrapped in someone’s arms. As I try to get my bearings, I begin to piece together the events of the day before: the awful filming where they brought in Liberty who intended to steal every scene, my running to Deacon, getting drunk and stoned, and having the most amazing sex. And now he’s wrapped around me.

  I remember his confession about never having had a woman in his apartment before, and now here I am having stayed the night. Something is definitely happening between us. I know I’d better not push though because Deacon is like a wild animal stalking around resisting capture. Even if I’m the wildlife retreat where he can still be free but safe, I can’t see him just going ‘oh okay then’. Slow is the way to go.

  I begin to move his arm from around me and I slip out of his bed. Gathering up my clothes I move out into the living room where I dress and stretch. I could really use some coffee but right now I just want a shower and even though Liberty will be at our apartment, she needs to learn her place. I call my driver to come pick me up and before long I’m entering my own apartment. Before I left I scrawled a quick note that I left on the kitchen counter near the coffee pot. It simply said:

  Thank you.

  Mia xo

  There’s no sign of life in my apartment so I shower, dress in fresh clothes, and then make my way to the kitchen, my hair just towel-dried, where I find Liberty fixing two mugs of coffee.

  “How d’you take yours?” She asks.

  “Black, no sugar.” I take hesitant steps towards her.

  She pours me a mug full and passes it
over. “Shall we take these to the sofa? I think we need to talk, don’t you?”

  I want to sigh, and I want to tell her to go fuck herself. I also want to go back to bed for more sleep and to replay all my moments of fun and passion with Deacon, but instead I nod and I walk to the sofa. No way am I following her in my own home.

  Liberty Parker is a walking cliché. Long blonde hair; darkened sculptured eyebrows; false lashes; chiselled, contoured cheekbones; and a full pout. Her surgeon was good, I’ll give them that, but the fact she’s had work at seventeen years old shows the background she’s from. If I’m a pampered princess, she’s the queen of preen.

  “Archie came onto me, not the other way around. Just so we’re clear about what happened. I don’t beg for men’s attention. They offer it.”

  Wow, no foreplay, just straight to the main event. It’d hurt but I no longer give a damn about Archie. No, my mind is now full of a certain dark brooding male with chinks of light in his armour.

  I curl my feet up under me on the sofa. If she’s trying to get some kind of reaction from me, the only one she’s going to see is me not giving a rat’s ass. I give a half-hearted shrug. “I can believe it, to be honest. We hadn’t been in a good place for a long time. I was upset at first as I’m sure you know. Looking back, I was missing the familiarity of the two of us. We’d been together a long time and Archie was a huge part of my life, but we weren’t good together. I’ve seen more now. I know I’m worth more.”

  Liberty takes a small sip of her hot drink, the one you can’t resist taking even though you know it will be too damn hot. I think that very action sums her up perfectly. She just can’t resist.

  Not Archie.

  Not the programme.

  Not the chance of more fame.

  Her head tilts while she stares at me. “Sounds like you might have a replacement. I’m guessing you’ve not been going shopping or meeting up with old friends.” She pushes.

  “I don’t want to talk about where I’ve been. It’s no one’s business but my own.” I look away from her and take a drink of my coffee before placing it down on the coffee table.

  “You’ve pissed your best mate off.”

  I shrug my shoulders again. “I’ll talk to her, we’ll be fine.” My eyes meet hers once more. Time for her to know I’m not taking any shit.

  “I’m still seeing Archie. I know on the show we’re acting like a love triangle and there are going to be times where it will seem like he wants you, but in real life there’s no competition. He’s mine. So I’m glad you seem to have found someone. It makes things clear. Sets boundaries.”

  I sigh heavily and then cocking my head I shake it from side to side in disbelief. “There’s no competition anyway. I’m not in the game. I’m not the slightest bit interested in Archie, so if that’s what this coffee is all about, you marking your territory, then it wasn’t necessary. I’ll do what I need to do for the show. They signed me for one series, six short episodes, and then we’ll see what happens from there. I have my own agenda for what I hope to get out of it and Archie never figured in it. I had no idea they intended to bring him into it, or you for that matter. If you feel you need to piss on him to stake your claim, then why sign up for the show in the first place? You could have both said no.”

  “I love Archie, but it’s a chance for me to make my name.” Liberty’s innocence shines out of her. I’ve no huge life experience myself but her naivety and youth actually make me pity her at that point. “I want my own show.”

  The repercussions of that hit me straight away. “As in no more Park Lane Princesses, just one main star?”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “They could still continue your series. I’d just have a breakout one of my own, that follows me everywhere.”

  I’m done with conversations with vacuous, attention seeking teenagers. “Sounds like a plan. Well, I’m happy to go along with whatever filming we’re told to do, but you can be rest assured I’ll be doing the best acting of my life, because I’d rather shop in Primark than date Archie again.”

  Truthfully, I have no problems with Primark whatsoever but looking at Liberty’s expression she does, as she grimaces and gets the picture.

  “Well, I’m glad we got things cleared up.”

  I stand and look down at her. “Just be clear that I’m not collateral in your game for fame. This is where I really live, so don’t be bringing Archie here unless it’s for filming. If you fuck with me, then I’ll come out fighting, claws and all. We clear?”

  “Crystal. Been good to chat, Mia. I think if we play this right, we can both come out with what we want. I wish you all the best with your new romance. Whoever they are.”

  “Thanks for the coffee.” I walk away back to my room and climb under my covers fully dressed. We have more filming this evening and I need to be ready and refreshed for it. I pick up my eReader to distract myself from my annoyance at Liberty Parker, until my eyes droop and I fall asleep.

  My mattress depresses, and I hear. “Where the fuck do you keep disappearing off to?”

  Rubbing my eyes groggily, I push my body up my bed. I can barely see Karla in my still darkened room. Blackout curtains at my windows help me to sleep.

  “Give me a minute, will you? I’ll come find you.” My stomach rumbles. “Can you send for some lunch? Some varieties of sandwiches and salads?”

  Huffing, Karla leaves the room, mumbling that I’d better be ready to tell her what’s going on. There’s no way I’m telling her about Deacon. I don’t want her having another tantrum, so I have approximately ten minutes while I wash and come around, before I need to have worked out what I am going to tell her. Probably a pile of lies. It’s just easier that way.

  Taking my phone out of my bag, I find I have a message.

  Deacon King: I missed you when I woke and found my arms empty. Don’t ever leave again without kissing me goodbye.

  My heart jumps and I read it several times before I send a simple reply.

  Mia: Missing you too xo

  Why now does spending time with my best friend seem like a punishment? Filming the show I wanted to be in seems like a sentence. Because all I want is to be wrapped up in the arms of the person who is making me feel alive. It’s like he’s teaching me about my body, and what I want to feel. He’s becoming an addiction and no matter how much I know his reputation, I need more. But he brought me to his home, and I stayed overnight; the first woman ever to do so. It has to mean something. Has to.

  Putting my phone back in my bag and leaving it in my room, I freshen up and make my way into our main living area where I find Karla placing fresh cutlery on the table.

  “Okay, no more fucking about. What’s going on with you?” she demands. Then the doorbell rings. “Goddamn it. As soon as that food is on the table, you tell me everything.” She goes to answer the door.

  Liberty has grabbed a plate of food but is sitting on the sofa. I tell Karla the lies I hope will reassure her and get her off my back.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I just wasn’t prepared for how public our lives we’re going to get, so I’ve spent some time back at home, back where I could think clearly, away from the public eye, just to double check that this is what I want. The first show is out next week and the pressure just hit me all at once.”

  “You idiot,” Karla says throwing an arm around me. “Why didn’t you just say so instead of making up stories about going shopping?”

  I can feel Liberty’s stare boring into me because she knows this is utter rubbish.

  “It just seemed simpler this way. I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “You can tell me anything. I’m your best friend.”

  Her words make me feel guiltier than ever. I need to change the subject.

  “It’s going to be a busy week for us next week, isn’t it?”

  Karla’s eyes flash with excitement. “Can you believe the launch party is Saturday night? By next Wednesday evening, viewers will have met us. The press will have already vie
wed the programme. We’ll be in magazines. It’s all about to launch. I’m so excited for us all.” Karla claps her hands. “Now, we have no filming tomorrow, so what about a spa day?”

  Liberty shakes her head. “Archie and I have to go to the B.A.D. offices for a photoshoot.”

  “Oh, well okay, just us then?” She looks at me.

  I take a deep inhale. “Actually, they want me there too. They want photos of the three of us together.”

  I see Karla’s expression cloud over. “They’re going to push me out of things, aren’t they?”

  “I don’t know what their plans are. Just that another shoot was arranged.” I lie. Another one to my best friend. I tell myself it’s to protect her, but really it’s to protect my secrets.

  “Hmm, maybe I need to start messaging Deacon King again. Perhaps if I spread my legs for him, he’ll make sure I’m still in the magazine one.”

  I feel my body tighten at the thought of Karla and Deacon. “You’ll still be in the spread, babe. All three of us are the princesses. They’re bound to focus on the biggest storyline, and right now that’s this supposed love triangle.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Karla says. “It just blows. So, maybe I need to blow Deacon, or someone who can get me back on top.”

  “On top of a cock, on top of the world.” Liberty quips. I can’t help but laugh and Karla joins in. We finish lunch and then Karla excuses herself to visit the bathroom.

  “Hmm, you got all uptight when Deacon King’s name was mentioned.” Liberty pretends to look at her manicure, then looks directly at me with a smirk on her lips.

  “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I’ve barely met the man.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m wondering. Whether you’ve bare-ly met him.” She cocks a brow.

  “Focus on your own life and keep the fuck out of mine. There’s no Deacon King in it.”

  “Okay.” Liberty holds her hands up as if in surrender, but the smirk still hovers on her lips.

  I feel like my life is a ticking time bomb, rather than the start of something new and exciting.