Broken: An Alpha Bad Boy MMA Romance

by Scarlet MMA, Simone

  “Here,” he bent to press his lips against hers. “We’re out of view of the house now. Hell, we’re out of view of everybody.”

  And, with that, he slid his big hands down the curve of Lyssa’s back, and squeezed her ass through her jeans.

  Lyssa’s eyes shot open, and she giggled.

  “Are you serious? Here?”

  Silas grunted in confirmation, and started to kiss Lyssa’s throat.

  Neck kisses. They were like kryptonite to her. With a groan, Lyssa let her eyes sink shut, and she let the moment sink over her.

  The smell of the fresh air. The heat of the sun. The feeling of Silas’ powerful hands on her body.

  “God, what if somebody sees us?” Lyssa groaned, as she melted into Silas’ arms.

  “So what if they do?” Silas snorted. He tugged the hem of her tank top out of her jeans. “Let’s give them a show, in fact.”

  And with that, Lyssa giggled, and surrendered to his kisses.

  First, Silas threw the picnic blanket down across the dirt. Next, he laid Lyssa down on the scratchy plaid, and lay next to her. It was like a lion lying next to a kitten, the way their bodies contrasted so much: His massive, muscular bulk, and Lyssa’s slender frame.

  They kissed, and for Lyssa that was the sexiest part of it all. Her nostrils filled with his manly sent, and she groaned hotly into Silas’ mouth.

  But even as they made out, her huge lover’s hands were not idle. At first they squeezed her breasts through her tank top. Then they were struggling with her jeans. A moment later, the top button of her Levis popped upon, and Silas started yanking them down unceremoniously.

  “You need some sun,” Silas grinned wolfishly, as he yanked her jeans down over Lyssa’s thighs, “Let’s get you out of these things.”

  Lyssa didn’t resist – and a moment later, Silas tossed her discarded jeans over his shoulder.

  He eagerly spread Lyssa’s legs.

  She lay back as Silas’ massive shadow fell across her, and gasped as his thick fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties. A moment later, they joined her jeans on the dirt behind him, and Lyssa found herself lying bottomless on the rug.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” Silas’ eyes flashed. “I have to taste you.”

  And with that, he dropped his head between Lyssa’s legs.

  “Oh, fuuuuck,” Lyssa arched her back, as Silas’ thick tongue spread the lips of her pussy. “Oh, wow.”

  It was an utterly new experience for Lyssa – and she wasn’t exactly an inexperienced girl. She’d never had sex outdoors before – and it was like heaven.

  She shuddered, as she lay there in the blazing sun, with this magnificent Spanish stud feasting between her thighs.

  “Oh, God, Silas…” Lyssa groaned, reaching down to entwine her fingers in his thick, black hair. “This is amazing.”

  She guided Silas’ head, as the big man sucked, and slurped, and licked and teased.

  His thick tongue worked relentlessly; swirling around Lyssa’s clitoris, and exploring her folds.

  Within minutes, an orgasm approached with the relentless velocity of a freight train – and Lyssa moaned in anticipation.

  “Cum for me, cariño,” Silas murmured, between her legs. “I want to taste you cumming.” And then he kept on the pressure; that deliciously thick tongue writhing mercilessly.

  Lyssa tightened her fingers in his air, and squeezed shut her eyes. She groaned hotly, balanced on the knife-edge of orgasm.

  “I… I… I love you,” Lyssa eventually cried out; a heartbeat before she climaxed wetly; gushing into Silas’ face.

  The Spaniard never stopped licking. He drank her wetness like nectar; still pleasuring her relentlessly with his tongue.

  Soon, Lyssa orgasmed a second time… and then a third. In fact, she actually had to push Silas’ head away towards the end, groaning: “N-no more… I can’t take any more…”

  Silas laughed wolfishly as he lifted himself from between her legs. His lips and chin glistened with her wetness.

  “You taste exquisite, cariño. A very fine vintage.”

  Lyssa lay flopped on the blanket, gasping and panting.

  “A-are you saying I’m old?” She laughed, staring up at the blue sky above them.

  “You’re perfect,” Silas retorted.

  He was unbuckling his own pants, and pulling them down. His thick, veiny cock popped out; as hard and gnarled as gleaming vine root.

  Lyssa’s eyes widened as she saw it.

  Silas made a move to clamber between her legs, but she shook her head.

  “Not after what you did for me,” she giggled, pushing him down onto the blanket. “Let me return the favor.”

  And then she did. Opening her mouth wide, Lyssa engulfed the head of Silas’ massive cock, and swooned at his manly taste.

  “Oh, cariño,” Silas groaned, as he felt the delicious sensation of Lyssa’s warm, wet mouth. “That’s incredible.”

  “Mmmpgh,” Lyssa giggled, saliva drooling down her chin. “Mmmph!”

  And then she began to bob her head in Silas’ lap; worshipping his hard, throbbing length with her lips and tongue.

  She felt like a goddess, as she swirled her tongue around the swollen head of Silas’ shaft, and massaged his heavy balls with her fingers.

  This huge, muscular fighter was powerless now she had his cock in her mouth. He was stretched out on the blanket, groaning and moaning, a slave to each twist of her tongue.

  “F-fuuuuck,” Silas groaned, as Lyssa lowered her head and swallowed his whole length. “Y-you’re going to make me cum.”

  And while the thought of his salty wetness flooding Lyssa’s mouth made her gush, she knew she wanted more.

  With a ‘pop’, Silas’ cock sprang from her mouth. It reared up, gleaming and dripping with her saliva.

  Laughing, Lyssa clambered on top of Silas, and lowered herself onto his hardness. He was so rigid, and she was so wet, that they came together effortlessly.

  “Oh, fuuuuck,” Silas groaned, as he felt Lyssa lower herself onto him; and his cock sunk inch-after-inch into her warm, wet tightness.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” Lyssa groaned, placing a hand on Silas’ chest to steady herself. She lowered herself all the way – skewering herself until she was nestled deep into Silas’ lap.

  And then slowly she began to ride him.

  Out there, in the blazing sun, Lyssa rocked her hips back and forth and moved that massive length of hardness inside her. It felt delicious. Beneath her, Silas clearly felt the same excitement.

  He reached up to grab her ass, and rocked Lyssa back and forth. Soon they hit the perfect rhythm, and pleasure began washing across Lyssa like a tidal wave.

  She bit her lip, and closed her eyes, and let her head flop back until the sun bathed her face.

  And then, as Silas groaned, and exploded inside of her, Lyssa shuddered and trembled in a fourth and final climax.

  For a moment, they both hung there, frozen in ecstasy – two parts of the same connected whole…

  …and then Lyssa collapsed across her lover’s chest, panting and gasping.

  “Oh, wow,” she groaned, kissing Silas’ face as she felt him grow soft inside of her. “That was wild.”

  “It was amazing,” Silas looked over, and stroked her hair. “And good luck, too.”

  Lyssa struggled to sit up.

  “Good luck?”

  “Si,” Silas nodded. He looked up at her with a smile, and gestured towards the rows and rows of vines.

  “Back when the Romans first planted grapes in La Rioja, they used to bless them with pagan fertility rituals.”

  Silas kissed her nose, and laughed.

  “If anybody asks where we’ve been, we can just tell them we were doing one of those!”

  Lyssa reached down and touched her belly. She giggled.

  “Fertility ritual? I’m not sure if I’m ready for one of those just yet.”

  “Too bad,” said Silas, struggling to sit up. H
e pointed down towards his glistening cock. It was already growing thicker again. “I might be up for another ritual in just a second or two.”

  Lyssa giggled, and bit her lip.

  “Okay,” she laughed. “But make it quick. I don’t want the first words your brother greets us with to be: ‘Where have you been for so long?’”

  Silas laughed.

  “No chance,” he promised.

  Chapter One Hundred and Forty Nine

  Lyssa

  “Where have you been for so long?”

  Lyssa couldn’t believe it. That really was the first question Alberte had of them, the moment the sticky young couple came walking back towards the Bodegas.

  But it didn’t seem to be anything to laugh about.

  Silas’ brother looked frantic – eyes wide and voice ragged. Even from across the courtyard, Silas and Lyssa could see that something worse than a hangover was bothering him.

  “What’s wrong, hermano?” Silas reluctantly let go of Lyssa’s arms, and crossed the courtyard to his brother. “What’s the matter?”

  Alberte turned to Silas in a panic.

  “It’s Celestina, and the kids. She went to pick them up from school – but that was two hours ago.” He ran his hand through his greying hair. “Something’s wrong, Silas. I can feel it.”

  And, for once, that feeling seemed to be genuine. Even the cynical Lyssa could detect something uneasy about the situation.

  “Let me grab my keys,” Lyssa suggested, despite feeling sticky and bow-legged after what had happened out in the fields. “We’ll take my car and go and find them.”

  Looking up at Alberte, she reassured him:

  “That old van probably broke down. I’m sure they’re fine.”

  But even she didn’t fully believe that.

  Lyssa ducked inside and grabbed the keys to her rental car. A moment later, it was peeling out of the courtyard with Alberte crammed into the front seat, and Silas hanging onto the grab hook in the back.

  As Lyssa gunned the powerful little Seat hatchback through the mountain roads, Silas and Alberte scanned the roadside.

  “The school’s only four kilometers away,” Alberte hissed. “Something’s wrong.”

  And soon, that suspicion was confirmed.

  “Over there! Look!”

  They peered through the windscreen towards the side of the road, and Lyssa felt her stomach flip. There was the rickety old van, with Bodegas Batras written on the side. It looked abandoned.

  A cloud of dust filled the air as Lyssa skidded the rental car to a halt by the side of the road. The three of them spilled out, and Alberte ran to the driver’s side and wrenched open the sliding door.

  Nothing. The van was empty. The keys were still in the ignition.

  Silas wrenched open the back doors. He found them same.

  “Where are they?” He demanded.

  Those words had hardly left Silas’ mouth when there was a sharp buzzing from Lyssa’s pocket.

  She glanced down, and saw that her cell-phone was ringing. Her American cell-phone.

  Who in the hell would be calling her? Who even had the number?

  As Silas and Alberte continued to search the van, Lyssa pulled her phone from her pocket, and checked who was calling her.

  The number was blocked.

  With her stomach churning, she swiped to answer the call – and pressed the phone against her ear.

  “H-hello?”

  A deep, heavily-accented voice sneered down the other line: “Senorita Meadows?” A sinister pause. “Good, I’m pleased the airline gave us the right number.”

  Lyssa narrowed her eyes.

  “We’re calling you, Senorita, because this is a foreign phone. We don’t want any annoying traces, or recordings…”

  “W-who is this?” Lyssa demanded, although she suspected already knew the answer to that one.

  “Put Alberte on,” came the response. “Now. And don’t bother lying – I know you’re with him.”

  Lyssa looked up. Alberte was staring at her expectantly. Clearly he’d got the same vibe the moment Lyssa’s phone had started ringing.

  “I-It’s for you,” she stammered, and tapped the speakerphone button, before offering him the phone.

  Alberte stepped over, and snatched the handset.

  “Who is this?” he demanded.

  There was a sinister laugh from the other end of the phone.

  “You know who it is, cabrón,” came the response – and while it was impossible to tell whether it was Bruno and Adolphe speaking, it was clearly one of the Buenaventuras.

  “W-what do you want?” Although Alberte feared he already knew the answer to that question.

  The voice on the other end of the line confirmed it:

  “We have your esposa and niños, Alberte,” came the reply. “I told you to take my last offer. This is the consequence of disobeying me.”

  So it was Adolphe on the phone, then – and similarly responsible for Celestina and the kids’ disappearance.

  “You hijo de perra!” Alberte screamed down the phone. “You bring them back! Right now! Or, I swear to God, Adolpe, I’ll…”

  “You’ll do nothing,” Adolphe spat back. “You’ll shut up, and you’ll listen to me, and you’ll do everything I tell you to do. Because if you don’t, you’ll never see your puta or those mocosos malcriados ever again.”

  Alberte was silent, as the impact of those words hit him.

  “So listen up, pendejo,” growled Adolphe. “You come to Bodegas Buenaventuras at 9pm tonight. Come alone. You tell that idiot brother of yours, and that American puta, to wait at home for instructions.”

  Alberte gulped.

  “A-and then what?”

  “And then? Then you sign the papers selling me Bodegas Batras – for a quarter of what I offered you last time. And only after that can you and your whore and brats get into that van and leave this town forever – never to return.”

  There was a pause, before Adolphe asked: “Entendido?”

  Alberte slumped against the van. His lips moved, but no words came out.

  “I asked you a question, cabrón,” Adolphe sneered down the phone. “If you don’t feel like answering, that’s fine – but know this. The moment the clock tower at Bodegas Buenaventuras chimes nine, you better be here. Because if you’re not, Bruno and his boys are going to drag Celestina out into the courtyard and each take a turn with her – in front of your kids, if needs be.”

  Alberte slumped to the dirt, tears rolling down his cheeks.

  “You hijo de perra, Adolphe Buenaventura. I swear, if you hurt one hair on Celestina’s head…”

  “I won’t have to!” Adolphe sneered. “Not if you do what I ask. Nine o’clock tonight. Don’t be late – or it’ll be Celestina who’ll be sorry.”

  And then the phone went dead.

  Alberte let it slip from his fingers, onto the dirt. Burying his head in his hands, the big man sobbed desperately.

  Lyssa and Silas could do little more than watch – both horrified at this sudden turn of events.

  Chapter One Hundred and Fifty

  Lyssa

  At 7pm, the police arrived.

  Alberte, Silas and Lyssa were sitting in the kitchen of Bodegas Batras, uncertain of what to do.

  At this point, none of them had considered calling up the Policía to report the kidnapping – knowing that Adolphe’s brother was Inspector Jefe of the Logroño department.

  No doubt the kidnapping of Celestina and the kids had happened with his blessing – or possibly, even his involvement.

  Which meant, as far as Silas and Alberte were concerned, that calling the police was a futile gesture.

  But just because they hadn’t called the police, it didn’t stop them turning up anyway.

  The little white and blue squad car stopped in the courtyard, and three men clambered out. Two burly police officers, and Inspector Buenaventura himself.

  Alberte, Silas and Lyssa met them on the steps, as
the three policeman headed up towards the front door.

  “Why are you here?” Alberte blocked the cops from the doorway, and demanded: “Do you know what happened? What your pendejo of a brother did?”

  The Inspector Jefe stood in front of Alberte and laughed contemptuously. Glancing over his shoulder – at the two young, fit policemen following him, the grizzled old inspector scoffed: “Just a little misunderstanding. Celestina and the kids will be back with you soon.”

  Hector Buenaventura narrowed his eyes.

  “Provided you cooperate, that is.”

  “You hijo de perra,” Alberte balled his hand into a fist and took a menacing step forward. If Silas hadn’t held him back, he’d have taken a swing at the Inspector – and the two cops standing behind him reached for their nightsticks, just in case.

  “Oh no, Alberte,” Buenaventura wagged a finger at him. “Don’t do anything stupid. I can drag you to my brother with or without broken ribs. It makes no difference to me.”

  And from the looks of the two police officers looming behind him, that wasn’t an idle threat.

  Alberte’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. The Inspector sneered at the sight.

  “So, amigo. Here is how it is going to ‘go down’, as I believe they’d say in America. You come with me, in the car, to Bodegas Buenaventura.”

  Alberte nodded.

  Jerking his thumb over his shoulder, the Inspector growled: “Oficials Costas and Delgardo will stay here, to make sure your hermano and his girlfriend don’t get any heroic ideas.”

  Looking up at Silas and Lyssa, the Inspector warned: “I’ll have them knock your teeth out, and stick a baton up your asses, if you cause any problems.”

  And then he turned back to Alberte.

  “…and once you’ve signed over this place to my brother, we’ll give you a police escort out of town. Head to Madrid. Santander. I don’t care. Just don’t show your fucking faces in Logroño ever again, entendido?”

  Alberte said nothing. He just stood there, deflated.

  “C’mon,” the Inspector grabbed Alberte’s arm. “Let’s get moving.” And then he started dragging him down the stairs.