by Madison Faye
Rough.
And in one second, as the heat teases through my body and as this rough, gorgeous caveman ignites something primal inside of me, I know.
I know this is exactly what I was looking for tonight. He’s everything I’ve been looking for.
“Are you—”
My lips mash to his before he can even finish his words. Hell, I almost have to climb him like a mountain to do it, but I do anyway — leaping into him, throwing my arms around his neck, and kissing him with everything I have. He tenses for a second, until suddenly, he comes alive against me. I whimper as I feel those big, powerful hands slide up my thighs, grabbing my ass tight and yanking me even tighter against his muscled body. His lips part, his tongue demanding entrance as he growls into the kiss. Heat pools between my thighs, soaking my panties instantly as I moan into his lips and roll my body against his.
I want this. I want everything about this. The rough, hardened man. The unbridled lust. The dark alleyway adding this extra bit of dirtiness to the whole thing that makes me moan even louder into his mouth.
There’s no talking. He knows what I want, and I definitely know what he wants. I can feel his huge bulge throbbing against my panties, making me whimper as if feel the size of him pulse right against my pussy. He growls, turning us and pressing me into the brick wall as my legs spread around his hips. One of his hands drops, and when I feel him yank at his belt and tug at his zipper, it’s all I can do not to reach down and do it for him.
He kisses me hungrily, sucking my tongue into his mouth and making my nipples harden to diamonds under my tiny dress. His hand moves between my legs, stroking my soaked, messy panties with one big finger, letting it tease up and down my slit before he hooks it under the lacy edge. He tugs them to the side, and when I feel the hot, thick, swollen head of his bare, rock-hard cock tease against my lips, I moan.
Oh fuck, that’s big.
I hug him tighter, kissing him madly as I feel his enormous head slip inside. I whimper, feeling my pussy stretch so fucking good around his girth as he starts to push right inside.
There are still no words, just this.
His hands grip my ass, his growls rumbling through me as he rolls his hips, and suddenly, he’s plunging all the way inside.
Oh FUCK that’s big.
I scream into his mouth, my body shivering in ecstasy as his huge cock slides all the way in, filling me like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I clench tight with my legs around him, grinding him deep as our moans drown together. He pulls back, leaving me wanting more before he obliges, driving every inch of that fat cock deep inside of my pussy until I’m crying out in pleasure.
My back scrapes against the brick behind me, but I’m so far past caring. I cling to him, spreading my legs wide for him as he starts to fuck me hard.
And it is everything I’ve wanted.
It’s fast, and hard, and so fucking raw that I come in what must be a minute. I can feel my walls clenching him tight, my body trembling for him as I scream my release into his lips. He sets me down, and I gasp as he suddenly spins me, bending me over at the waist until my hands go flat against the wall. I feel him drop down behind me. His hands roughly yank my soaked panties down to my ankles, and when I feel that mouth of his move between my legs, I bury the scream of pleasure in my arm.
His tongue pushes inside, fucking in and out of my pussy and making my knees shake. He moves down, letting his tongue swirl and flick over my clit until I’m panting for more. He stands, he centers his thick dick against my opening, and this time, he drives in with one deep thrust. I cry out, moaning in pleasure as he starts to take me.
He fucks me hard and fast, his hands gripping my hips so tightly — tight enough to bruise, and I love it. I can feel his balls hit my clit on every powerful thrust, his thick cock filling me up like nothing else.
This is everything I’ve always secretly fantasized about. Everything I’ve never known how to ask a boyfriend for. Raw, unbridled, uncensored fucking. Bent over, holding the brick wall of an alley with my panties around my ankles like a cheap slut. And loving it. His huge cock pounding me so fucking good, every glorious inch filling me up as he fucks the hell out of me. One hand grips my hip tightly, while the other slides up my back and tangles in my hair. He tugs, making me squeal in ecstasy as he drives all the way inside.
“You like this rough don’t you?” he growls roughly, thrusting into me as I moan in pleasure. It’s the first words either of us have spoken, and something about that makes it even hotter.
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Dirty girl,” he groans back, tugging my hair a little more and making the adrenaline roar through me as I moan.
“You’re my dirty girl.”
God his voice. It’s so commanding, and so powerful sounding that it has my knees quivering as I feel my slickness drip down my thighs. He’s rough, and wild, and possessive, and fucking me like no man ever has.
And I know I’m going to come all over again, all over that gorgeous cock.
“I can feel that naughty little pussy getting tighter, dirty girl,” he rasps into my ear as his muscled hips crash into me. “I know you want me to make this tight little cunt come for me, don’t you? You want to come all over this cock, bent over in an alley getting fucked like a bad girl, don’t you?”
“Yes!” I almost scream, the waves starting to crash over me.
“So come for me,” he hisses, his thick cock plowing deep inside of me. “Come all over my cock like a good little fuck toy.”
Oh FUCK.
I turn to scream into my shoulder as the orgasm detonates through me like a bomb. My entire body ripples and shudders, pleasure exploding through me as I come so fucking hard with his perfect cock so deep inside of me.
He roars, his hands tightening on my hip and in my hair as he drives in balls-deep and erupts. I gasp, feeling his thick cock throb, pulsing and twitching as his hot, sticky cum spurts deep inside of me.
I’m panting, clinging to the brick and to my sanity as he holds me like that, his cock still so hard and still filling me up to the brim as I gasp for air. He pulls back, and as his big cock slips out of me, I whimper as I feel his hot cum drip down my thighs.
It’s so dirty, and so fucking wrong. And I’m not even done yet. This is the filthy fantasy — the one that’s kept me up late for more nights than I can even count. And now that I’m getting a taste of it, I’m not leaving until I have the whole thing. I want the whole fantasy.
I turn, and before he can say anything, I drop to my knees in front of him. His big, slick cock glistens in the shadowed neon light right in front of me, a big drop of creamy white cum beading at the tip.
“I—” I look up at him, my face red, my eyes wild, and my breath haggard. And somehow, with just that look, he knows. He knows exactly what I want.
“You want to clean my cock off, don’t you?” he purrs.
My pulse hammers through my ears, and I nod.
“Open your mouth, dirty girl,” he growls, his dark eyes locked on mine and blazing fire right through me. “Open those pretty lips and clean my fucking cock off.”
I lean forward, my arousal blooming between my legs all over again as I wrap my lips around his cock. I whimper, tasting his cum and mine on his swollen head as I hum around it. I drop my mouth down his shaft, my tongue swirling and teasing all over him until I’ve licked him clean.
I have never felt dirtier, or more slutty. But this is the fantasy. This is the dark desire that I’ve got just one night to explore before I go back into my cage.
My stranger pulls me up, and he kisses me hungrily as I fall into him. His hand goes between my legs, his fingers stroking my slick, dripping wet pussy. He kisses me deeper, stroking a thick finger in and out of me as his thumb rolls over my clit. He moves faster and faster, his nimble, thick fingers teasing me higher and higher as he claims my mouth. He rubs his cum over my clit, his fingers plunging in and out of me until suddenly, with a shudder, I come for him once agai
n. This time, I scream into his mouth, my pussy tightening around his fingers as the orgasm shatters through me.
I pull away, trembling as I tug my ruined panties back up my legs. I kiss him, hard, letting it linger for a second before I pull back.
“Thank you,” I whisper into his ear, kissing his cheek before I turn and walk away, feeling like I’m walking on fucking air.
Present:
Fuck it. I glance at my watch once more before I just throw in the towel.
I can do this.
I grab the spare bulb and start to climb. I’m in jean shorts and a t-shirt today, not the slutty black dress from the night before, and barefoot, no heels this time. But still, I can feel my knees shaking and my nerves jangling as I slowly climb the ladder up to the big crystal and metal lighting fixture. I make it to the top, and I’m feeling pretty damn confident about the whole thing as I reach up for the dead bulb, when the freaking front door flies open.
I turn at the sound, when suddenly, it all goes wrong. I gasp, vertigo rushing through me as I feel myself start to tumble. The scream lodges in my throat as I fall backwards, dropping like a rock until suddenly I hit…arms.
Big, strong, powerful arms, catching me. The breath knocks out of me as I crash into the big, muscled body, knocking the man down to the floor with me on top. We land with a thud, me spread-legged on top of him, straddling his hips with his arms wrapped tight around me.
“Have you ever heard of fucking knock—”
My words fail. Because right then, I pull back, ready to give this guy hell for almost killing me. And that’s when I see them.
Those eyes. The dark, piercing, fierce eyes.
…His eyes. The man from the night before.
Oh fuck.
“What are you doing here?!” I blurt out, my jaw hanging low and my eyes wide.
“The fuck are you doing—” He freezes, and suddenly, it clicks for both of us.
“Quinn Moretti.”
My name drops like a stone from his lips, the color draining from his face.
“Roman Ford,” I croak, feeling like I’m about to faint. “You’re— you’re my—”
“Bodyguard,” he finishes, the word growling from his lips. “I’m your bodyguard.”
Oh shit…
Chapter 2
Roman
Red hair tangled in my face. The smell of jasmine. Bright green eyes staring right into mine. Her hands are on my chest, with those sweet thighs spread around my waist. My hands are on her ass.
Fuck. My blood turns to ice for second. It’s her. Motherfucking her. She’s not wearing the blonde wig from the night before. She’s not wearing all the eye makeup, or the fuck-me heels, or the skirt that said “push me up and make me scream.” No, she’s none of those things right now, sprawled on top of me after tumbling off the ladder.
But I’d know her scent anywhere. I’d know those eyes anywhere. And that gasp? That cute little fucking gasp she makes when she realizes who I am and what’s just happened? Well, fuck if it doesn’t send the blood right to my cock. It shouldn’t but it can’t be helped. Because right here, tumbled over me on the floor of Gino Moretti’s foyer is the girl from last night. The one from the alley.
The girl who came crashing out of the front doors of The Playroom like a bat out of hell. It was my first night running door security for the notorious Vegas sex club. Normally, it was a job my buddy Ryker pulled. But he’d asked for a favor and I’d stepped up. But, I couldn’t imagine that girls with fear in their eyes coming running out of that place was exactly normal.
The piece of shit running after her, and grabbing her, and yanking her into a dark alleyway though? Yeah, not a fucking chance was I going to let that happen. The plan had been…well, no. There hadn’t been a plan at all besides stopping him from hurting her. Call it a weak spot in my usual steel armor, but “staying out of it” wasn’t an option. I’d gone charging in, torn him away, and sent him fucking packing. After that, I should have just walked away. After that, I should have pulled her out of that alley, got her a cab, and sent her the hell home.
…Obviously, that’s not how shit shook out though.
I could blame that kiss, but it was all of it. It was the smell of her — pheromones or some shit. It was the feel of her hands snaking around my neck. The sweet softness of her lips. The hunger, the barely contained need to explode that I could feel raging inside of her. It was that she was fucking gorgeous, and it was that when she kissed me, it was like nothing else in the world I’d ever known.
One kiss, and I was done, and after that, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was leaving her.
That kiss lit a damn fuse, and when it went off, we exploded like some sort of bomb. Fuck, I’d never just let go like that — never totally let the dark desires inside of me just run rampant. I hadn’t just fucked her, I’d fucking claimed her. I’d made her mine.
…Except, she wasn’t mine at all, and laying there on my ass with her perched on top of me with both of our jaws dropped and two sets of wide eyes staring into each other, I’m painfully aware of that. Cripplingly so.
No, she’s not mine. She’s Gino’s. The girl I saved and then fucked like a man possessed is now sitting on my lap. She’s my charge, my job to protect. But more importantly, she’s my boss’s wife. And suddenly, the reality of that claws its way through me.
Holy fuck. I screwed Gino fucking Moretti’s wife.
I’m dead. I blink, the color draining from my face as the harsh reality sets it. I’m going to die for last night.
Both of us spring away from each other as if on cue, her backing away, her face white as she stares at me. And me, I just whirl, taking a deep breath as my pulse roars through me. My eyes narrow. What the fuck was she doing at that place last night? I want to roar, and yell, and maybe even make a run for it, even if I know how futile running is when it comes to Gino. But I don’t. I just turn and narrow my eyes at her.
I want to be mad, but I can’t. Shit, not when I can still taste her pussy on my tongue and feel her slickness tightening on my cock, all just by looking at her. One damn kiss, and I fucking lost all control. Touching her, taking her, claiming her. I couldn’t take my hands off her last night. But now?
…Now I’m going to get them cut the fuck off for it.
Gino is not a guy to mess with. The gray-haired, neutral-faced psychopath in an Italian suit who runs the Moretti crime family is ruthless, cold, and calculating. And I just fucked his wife last night.
Now, how the fuck does a flame-haired goddess like her end up with a skeezy, cruel, sadistic piece of shit who dresses like Joe Pesci in Casino? I mean, yeah, old guys with money get hot younger girls all the time. But not like this. Not Quinn, if what I’ve heard about her is true. She’s not that kind of girl — not the gold-digger type. Actually, my buddy Gray who’s Gino’s reluctant legal counsel says it was the product of a bet or something. A fucking bet.
Shit, I don’t play cards myself, but if she was the pot? Deal me the fuck in.
But none of this matters. It doesn’t matter who she is, or how she’s married to my boss. The end result when Gino eventually finds out about me screwing this girl is me getting dragged out to the desert and getting my head blown off at close range.
Her eyes are wild — a savage green — as she stares at me, her face pale, but her cheeks glow pink. For a second, all I can think about it last night. For one second, I’m not in my boss’s foyer thinking of how he’s going to cut my dick off with a rusty spoon before killing me. No. Because when my eyes lock with hers, both of us panting, pulses racing, there’s only one thing I can think of: that little gasp she made when she came for me last night. All I can think of is that moment of everything else in the world disappearing and all of demons getting shut away for one second when I claimed her as mine and filled her with my cum. Feeling her whole body shuddering and quaking for me, feeling her impossibly tight little cunt gripping me like a velvety vise as she went crashing over the edge at the same tim
e as me.
That’s what I think of, standing there two feet away from her and staring her right in the eyes.
“Quinn Moretti,” I mutter lowly
“Roman Ford,” she croaks out, swallowing thickly as her eyes lock with mine and her cheeks turn pink. “You’re— you’re my—”
“Bodyguard,” I growl quietly. “I’m your bodyguard.” I slowly shake my head at her. “What the fuck where you doing at that pla—”
“Please,” she whispers hoarsely, her eyes pleading with me and the color draining from her face. Yeah, she’s having the same thoughts as me concerning Gino. Fuck, she looks scared. Real scared. Her face pales, and I can see her chest rising and falling quickly. I guess the same “getting hauled out to the desert and shot in the head” shit could happen to her too. Gino Moretti doesn’t exactly strike me as the sharing type. Or the forgiving type.
“Let’s go,” I growl. Suddenly, I’m aware that we’re in Gino’s house. Fuck only knows if he’s got cameras or microphones in this place. Considering it’s a Las Vegas mansion, I’m betting it does.
“Wait, where are we—”
“Now,” I growl, grabbing her arm at the elbow and pulling her towards the front door.
“Uh, excuse me? Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing!?”
“Outside,” I hiss, my eyes darting around the high ceilings for any cameras.
Quinn swears at me, trying to yank her arm out of my grasp. “Okay, so you think you can just grab me just because you fucked—”
She shrieks as I scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder. Fuck the cameras. I’ll take my chances getting videotaped carrying her out the door over a mic hearing her spill what happened last night.
I storm down the steps out to the big circular driveway with the ridiculous Venetian-style cherub fountain in the middle of it. I go for the Escalade, open the door with one hand, keeping her squirming body with the other until I can yank it open and toss her inside.
