by Zoey Parker
It didn’t matter.
She let go of the feeling rising in her chest, and lost herself in her arousal. He was at her thighs now, between them – his mouth was just before her pussy. And then he was on her, kissing her, licking her, and she felt like her eyes were going to roll into the back of her head and that she wouldn’t be able to look straight at him again. He pushed her legs apart farther, and she was standing so bent apart that she could barely keep herself up right.
He pushed her farther back against the wall behind her, and her back met the cool wood with a dull thud.
She couldn’t focus. His hands were on her thighs, pushing against the skin, holding her still and firm. One of his hands went higher up on her thigh, holding her still there, pressing her. And then he pulled her legs even farther apart. She didn’t think that he could possibly do that, but he did. The hand on her thigh went and moved up to her hip, and he gripped the bone there. She gasped. He was holding her so tight.
His tongue darted out and he licked along her slit, moving his mouth forward and pressing a small kiss to the cleft there. She groaned low in her throat, and moved her hands in an attempt to grab his hair.
It didn’t happen.
Both of his hands went to her hips and then slightly beneath them, and he lifted her again in his arms. She moved herself so that her legs went around him, and she threw her arms around his neck. He kissed her neck, and then her jaw, and then finally his mouth made its way back to her lips, and she tasted herself there. It was new for her.
And she liked it.
She reached for his belt, desperate to find the buckle and undo his jeans. She unclasped it, struggling, the belt continuously hitting against the fabric of his jeans. She could already see his large bulge straining there, and as soon as she threw his belt to the ground his cock was nearly freed. She brought her hand to the zipper there, pulling it down.
She accidentally hit his heat with her hand, and she stopped to run a couple fingers over the velvet there. He grabbed her wrist through his groans, bringing his stubble-covered jaw against her skin. He covered her mouth with his again, crushing her sounds against him.
She pushed back against him. She couldn’t take just being on the wall. He couldn’t handle it either, and they were on top of each other. They both struggled for power. He was so much bigger than her, and she knew she couldn’t win, but there was something so hot about being dominated.
His weight against her made her feel like she was being crushed, in the best way it possibly could. His chest bared down on hers, and he grabbed her arms. He had both wrists now, like he had earlier, and held them down on either side of her.
She squirmed. Throwing her body up against his, she hit his hard cock with her bare sex – and the groan he made nearly set her insides on fire. She tried to reach for him, for his shirt, but she wasn’t in control here. He ripped off his shirt, crushing his body down against hers so he was completely on top of her. His hands were at her tits, at her sides, at her pussy, and then he wasn’t touching her at all. He slipped out of his jeans with a fury, and, she, staying still, just watched it happen. He was on top of her, and he was dominating her, and that was what she wanted most of all in the world.
She brought her hand to his cock, reaching for him and spreading her legs open so he could take her. He didn’t let that happen. He took her hand again, and used his other hand to wrap his grip around her throat. His touch was gentle, but then it was harsher, and –
His hand fell away, and he was on her. Properly on her; it was like the weight of him hadn’t even touched her before and now he was truly there. His cock rubbed up against her wet slit, the head hitting against her but not entering her.
She bit her lip in frustration, reaching for him. She didn’t grab his cock, though. Her hands went to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer to her. She tried to pull him into her, and failed, wriggling under his body. She brought a leg up, wrapping her thighs around him. His cock pushed against her again, hard and insistent, and she reached for him again.
Instead of grabbing his cock and dragging the head against her, like part of him wanted to, and like she was expecting him to do, Darren did what the other half of Victoria yearned for.
His cock pushed into her, stretching her pussy and filling her in one thrust. His cock couldn’t fit all the way in one motion, and he pushed again. The motion sent her into a frenzy, and her hips jumped up towards him at his touch.
He thrust into her again, hard and fast, and she brought her hands up to his shoulders. His cock stretched her, pushing her, filling her.
He took her hair in his hands and pulled her head up, forcing her to show him her jaw. His mouth went there, kissing her neck. He drew his tongue down the skin there in strokes and ground his hips against hers. He was slow and deliberate and harsh, and it was driving her insane. All she wanted was to be fucked. And she was being fucked, but it wasn’t the way she’d intended.
She dragged her hands down across his back. And then just when she thought that he was going to slowly make love to her forever – not that there was anything wrong with that, but that wasn’t what she wanted right now – he changed his tune.
He fucked into her with a passion, his hand at her hair falling away as he grabbed her shoulders. Her body was pushed against the floor. She felt the hard wood of it scratch along her back, and the pressure there made her squirm. It hurt a little, but not in a bad way.
His mouth left her jaw and he made his way up to her lips. He kissed her, fucking her as hard as he could. She groaned into his mouth. She felt full; everything in her needed this, and she was already holding onto him the best way she could.
He grabbed her by the waist, holding her as he pushed into her. Then he flipped her, leaving her so she landed with her stomach and chest pressed up against the floor. He got on top of her again, pushing against her. His arms took hold of hers, pulling them behind her back as he pushed her chest out.
The wall was closer to them now, and she felt herself push closer to it. Darren's mouth went to her shoulder, biting and kissing and licking the skin there.
He quit touching for a second, but his mouth never left her skin. Speaking against the flesh there, he pulled her hair back and said, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“What are you thinking?”
He bit her shoulder again. “Bondage.”
Chapter Seventeen
Darren
He looked over at her sleeping face. She was so beautiful and so soft-looking, and he knew that there was no way she could handle this. She tried to seem like she was okay with everything, and she was tough. It was true that she was. That much, at least, wasn’t an act.
But some of it had to be, and she had to be acting out that she was okay with all of this club chaos. He was forcing her into something she probably didn’t want. He had no doubt that she would just go along with things if she thought it meant they’d be okay, and he couldn’t stand for that.
No. He didn’t want that for her. There could be no “they.”
And even though they’d already gone pretty far, there was no way he could keep things going like this. He couldn’t deny that part of him was happy to be with her. Incredibly happy. And he also couldn’t deny that that same part of him lit up at the thought of her, and that she was always on his mind. That last part was probably just because they’d been stuck together for this last while, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, he liked it, and he looked forward to protecting her.
Victoria mewled a little in her sleep, moving and stretching her body out so that she was pressed even closer to him than she had been before. He wasn’t protecting her by staying here. And she didn’t have to get in trouble for what had happened, just because of him.
He could take the fall for her. She could go back to her normal life. They were here because people were trying to hurt her, but people were only trying to hurt her because they thought she had a connection to him. Actually forming a connection to her was
n’t going to help at all, and if he just disappeared, maybe people would leave her alone.
He would make people leave her alone. There was no way she was going to deal with this; he would take care of this, even if it meant he wasn’t in her life.
He got out of bed as quietly and as carefully as he could. He didn’t want to risk her waking up and asking what he was doing, so he had to be near-silent and he had to be quick. He hadn’t really had time to explore the bedroom or the rest of the villa earlier, and for good reason. But that wasn’t an excuse for slowness now.
He got up and opened the drawer to the nightstand slowly. Then he put his hand in it and explored, looking for anything. There was nothing in there, although there was a lamp on the top of the dresser. He didn’t turn it on. He got his phone out of his jean pockets and then he turned the screen on low.
Making his way through the rest of the room as slowly and silently as he’d started, he got to a table in the far corner of the room. There was a dresser, a nightstand, the bed, a TV and something for it to sit on, a pair of chairs, and a table. There was a thing of paper on the table to leave notes for room service and a couple pens.
He picked up one of each. Looking up over his shoulder, he noticed that there was some dim light coming in through the closed curtains. The window was just past the table, so it was still easy enough to see out of. He didn’t remember sleeping, but he must’ve gone right to bed with Victoria after they’d fucked. And that meant she might wake up soon, too. He turned to look back at her. Shit. Still asleep, though. He breathed a sigh of relief.
This note was going to have to be written and placed as soon as possible. And there was so much he wanted to say, but he needed to get out the specifics. He wanted to make sure that she was safe, and that she was in no trouble.
Sullivan
So he started writing. Scribbling, really, just barely clear enough that she could still read it, but sloppy enough that he could write as fast as he needed to. She still had a future if she said he had kidnapped her (which he had), he’d shot a guy (which he had), and that he’d forced her to help clean up his mess (which he would never do, but the lie could keep her out of trouble).
It hurt to write, but he did it. Throwing the pen down, he left the piece of paper on the table and pivoted to walk away. But then he went back – there was something else he had to say. She needed to go to the police before she did anything else. As much as he liked to avoid them, they were the only people who could help her right now. And as much as he wanted to help her, he would only hurt her.
He hesitated on adding any kind of affection to the note, before finally deciding against it. But leaving the note on the table might not be the best course of action. Taking in a heavy breath, he folded up the paper, and then he put it on his pillow – next to Victoria, where he had been.
He had to keep himself from dragging a hand across one of her cheeks, from touching her lips, anything. He didn’t. He put the piece of paper down, took a deep breath, and then he left. It wasn’t easy.
# # #
Victoria
Waking up for Victoria was even harder. She reached out, wanting to feel Darren next to her. His warmth, his affection, ideally his hardness. But there was nothing there except for her, and the room was cold in its emptiness.
She sat up as fast as she could. If he wasn’t there, that couldn’t be good. The hotel room was only for the night – probably, she hadn’t really asked about the reservation – and he wouldn’t just leave her here on her own, especially when he was so paranoid about the safe house not being safe enough for her. For them. But there was no them. She saw it then: the paper wasn’t folded up as neatly as it could’ve been, but it was impossible to miss.
She opened it up with deft fingers, trying not to tear the thin paper apart as she opened it. She regretted it as soon as her eyes started scanning the page, though, seeing the words there.
Victoria,
I have to leave. I’m only going to be more trouble for you, and I can’t help you now. The police can, though. You won’t be in trouble, don’t worry. Tell them that I kidnapped you, that I shot that guy, and that I made you help get rid of the body, and you should be fine. Don’t go to anyone else. Don’t look for the Bloody Saints and don’t contact me.
-Darren
P.S. Get rid of this note once you’ve read it.
She didn’t want to just crumple up the paper and then throw it away. Trying to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes, she folded the piece of paper back up and went looking for a pocket to put it into. She was still undressed, so that involved getting out of bed first. And she hated every second of it.
She leaned over the bed, looking for the clothes she’d discarded the night before. She was still wearing around the same stuff she had been a few days ago, and it was in sore need of a wash. She didn’t have the time to worry about that, though, so she just wrinkled her nose and threw the stuff back on. It could be washed later, when she got back home. Because she did still have a home to go back to, and her time with Darren would just have to become memories that would eventually be forgotten.
Getting into her clothing felt like so much work, even though it was just wiggling into jeans and putting on a shirt. Then, after making sure the paper was pressed neatly into one hand, she shoved it in a back pocket. And then she just hopped back into bed, trying to ignore the horrors of what had already happened.
But it was hard to ignore that he was gone when she was in a bed they’d just shared.
And it was hard to tune out anything when she could hear footsteps outside the doorway.
There was no way it was Darren. When he wanted to do something, he probably wouldn’t just take it back. And besides, the footsteps were too loud and too many for it to be Darren. She froze, unsure of what to do. But she had to hide. Too bad she didn’t know where anything was in this place, since she’d just wandered in with Darren last night and gotten straight to business.
She couldn’t stay in bed. The door opened up into the living room, and from the living room she could see the sitting room and the hallway. It was probably a bad idea to stay in a room that could be entered from the hallway, and it was definitely a bad idea to stay in the bedroom.
Maybe there was an attic that she could hide in.
She jumped out of bed, opening the door and then going out into the hallway. If there was an attic, the entrance would probably be in the ceiling at the end of the hallway. So she went there. She was in the middle of trying to find a panel to pull, maybe with those fold-out stairs, when the front door burst open.
Fuck.
She had nowhere to go.
There were two people. Two guys. She recognized neither of them. Maybe they hadn’t seen her yet. They definitely had. She heard a yell, and then there was running, and she was trying to find somewhere to run to. She couldn’t go out the front door. Maybe there was a back door –
She felt a hand grip her arm and turned to see the dark eyes of someone she didn’t know. She threw a hand out, slapping him, and then she kicked the guy in the balls.
But then the other dude grabbed her, and there was thrashing, and kicking, and more thrashing, and struggle…
And then she was being carried out the back door, which, apparently, the villa had.
# # #
Darren
Darren didn’t know several things, the two most important being that some of the Broken Skulls had followed them to the villa and that those same people had dragged Victoria back to their main base. He did know that he hadn’t heard anything from his club, from Victoria, from anyone, since he’d left that morning, though, and that it had been a few hours. It hadn’t been long enough for it – whatever “it” was – to stop hurting, though. She should’ve seen the note by now.
He checked his phone again. She hadn’t called. Of course she hadn’t; he’d told her not to contact him, or anyone from the Bloody Saints. But she was stubborn and disobedient, and he expected her to do tha
t right away to give him a piece of her mind. And she hadn’t. He didn’t have any missed calls, actually, and that was really weird.
He should have something. There was always something going on. But there was nothing. Nothing about Victoria, nothing about club warfare, not even anything about any of the boys.
There was no chance that that was happening naturally. Something was always going wrong; that was his life, and there was no way anything was going well. Especially right now.
He kept walking down the street, watching the sidewalk instead of his surroundings. The goal was to make himself look as suspicious as he possibly could, and to attract attention from two kinds of people – the law and people who might want him dead. Not might. Definitely did. But that was just semantics.
