by V. Theia
No more talking. She reached up and latched onto his mouth. No more talking until it was time to talk.
She was dying for him this walking, breathing erogenous zone she was drunk on.
Use him. It went around and around inside her head, their tongues swirling and all she could think of was using him in filthy carnal ways. Would he let her? Yeah, he would. She rubbed his cock, heard his groan and did it again.
Lust heavy between them, her body aching. A knock-on effect from all the sex they’d already shared, but something else, something bigger, it’s what scared her, what made her grab onto him tighter, to help rip his clothes off, to kiss him like she was dying of air and needed only his.
This was Preacher, she had to remind herself, but Preacher turned up to fifty. She smelled the lust and sweat and musk of him. All manly, but it was Preacher, the man didn’t do commitment, relationships or entanglements past sex as far as she could tell, telling him any facet of her life was going to be like ice water in summer, and call her crazy, but she’d only just got her libido back, she wasn’t sacrificing it for heart to hearts that were no significance to their mutually exchanging of body fluids.
His eyes when they looked down at her were hot and heavy-lidded, piercing with intent, looking deep down through the bones and gristle right into her soul, the look she felt between her legs.
"Asher..."
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me now?” He pushed her down to lie flat, crawled over her, all the while rolling on a condom over his thick length. The motel room that had seemed small an hour ago became minuscule, and void of air. She couldn’t think, all thoughts turned syrupy.
She opened her legs shamelessly.
“No. just this. “
“I will pay you to tell me.” One of his eyebrows lifted, completing the picture of ripped, arrogant biker guy.
“I’m not for sale.” Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, lulled there by the thing he was doing with the pads of his fingertips on the inside of her thighs, because, god, it felt damn good.
“Not your body. Information.”
He didn’t get it was the same. If it belonged to Ruby it was hers, be it her body or mind. And she wasn’t prone to sharing.
“Kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. This is our sex weekend.”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“It’s our sex weekend,” she pressed on. “And there’s very little sex. If I have to endure eight hours on your bike again I want to be back broken before I get on it.”
His nod was grave. “Okay. Whatever you want.” He got into place. “This is what it’s like between two people who can’t be honest with each other, beautiful,” he thrust so hard, so angry she felt it in her spine.
“More.” She cried out, arching into that pain, it pulsed the hottest throb she’d ever felt before. His breath fanned her face, his thrusts increasing.
“There is no more.”
“Please.”
“There’s just this. Only this. Be fucking honest with me for goddamn once, Ruby.”
“I can’t.” Her moans blistered the air. So, close. Her pussy walls fell in around his cock, squeezing. When he grunted, and shoved harder it was the catalyst, she came crying his name, holding onto him like she thought she’d die if she didn’t. He didn't even give her a second to calm down.
He pulled out without coming, still hard. Her brows pinched in the middle. Preparing to be flipped to another position so he could finish as well----he rose to his feet and pulled up his jeans. The hell?
“What are you doing?”
“You wanted to come, baby. I gave you what you needed.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Fuck you, Preacher. You didn’t have to make me feel cheap.”
“You set out our rules. I’m just following them.”
“Fuck you.”
“I just did. You came hard. Tell me who Sebastian is.”
“It’s none of your damn business.”
“None? I just had your pussy shattering around my cock in under four minutes, if you were any more primed you’d need a doctor, I’m soaked from you, and it’s nothing to do with me when you’re sneaking off to whisper I love you to some fucking prick who doesn’t even know you’re being fucked good and hard by me? That’s not cool, Ruby. I’m a lot of things, the other man is not one of them. I followed your rules, just sex, you said. Fine. I’m not down to be someone’s dick on the side. I fuck you when I want to fuck you, not when you can fit me in between this other guy. Tell me who it is.”
She gaped at him. Wide-eyed and just … stunned at his even toned impassioned speech. She sat on the edge of the bed, feet brushing the carpet, the texture rough like it had been stepped on one too many times and lost all its buoyancy.
“Asher…” She was a woman who knew what she wanted ... most of the time ... control was important to her, and Preacher was knocking her off her own feet.
“I mean it. You get one chance to tell me or when we get back into Colorado we just leave it at a few nights worth of fun.”
“It’s not ---dammit, Asher. Since when do you have these fucking moral standards suddenly? The guy I watched fuck some blonde bitch like he was a rutting bull and then saunter into the bar and join his buddies like nothing happened, HE wouldn’t have ethics, but now you’re screwing me suddenly you care if I’m getting it somewhere else as well?”
“Yes, I fucking give a shit if you’re fucking someone else while you’re fucking me!” His growl made her gush wetness, more so when he trekked the few feet separating them and grasped her chin, holding it tight, his green eyes ----Jesus, hot as fire, she melted under that glare. “The way we’ve been fucking if you still need it from someone else then there’s something seriously wrong, ‘cause, beautiful, if I fucked you any better you’d probably die.”
“Wow, there’s nothing wrong with your ego.”
“Nothing wrong in how hard you come for me, claw me, scream and beg for more. Are you saying someone else is giving it to you like that as well?”
“No …” she’d never told anyone her family difficulties, the sense of being a burden was a sore point for Ruby ----raw, open, to know how Preacher, her friend with benefits, for a better word, would react, she’d been the sucker to put that rule in place and he was right, he’d followed it, to confide in him the clown show that was her circus of a life, she felt vulnerable in every corner of her mind, wanting to fold in on herself and just deny everything, not share about Sebastian. She’d been caught up in Preacher’s whirlwind when all along Ruby had known she’d been wrong to want something just for herself.
“I’m gonna need more than that, Ruby. He’s your man, and you’ve made me the other guy? I’m the one you come to for a decent fuck, is that it?”
“No. Yes. Look, can we just forget this, Asher? It’s not what you’re thinking, okay?”
“Sorry, babe. Not gonna work for me.” He strode away, sat in the only armchair in the room. Looking over at her like he was so fucking disappointed in her right now, she frowned. “We can’t be honest with each other,” he said quietly.
“Seems not,” she sighed. Her expression shattered at his statement, she reached for her hoodie, zipping it up it acted as a barrier between her heart and him, guarding herself against feeling any hurt at his mistrust.
Just sex was never just sex.
Her best friend in high-school had insisted the same thing, she’d slept with the quarterback all semester long and gotten butt-hurt when he started dating a girl who didn’t mind being seen with him outside of a bed. It's never just sex when feelings are involved. Her friend and the quarterback have been married for ten years now.
It was never just sex when people got angry for no reason.
And Preacher was angry with her. She was angry with him for changing the rules on her.
“Sebastian is important to me, but it’s not … it’s not what you’re thinking, Asher. I meant what I
said about us spending time together.”
“He’s not your man?”
“No, he’s not.”
“But you love him.” His voice quiet. Accusing. He’d heard her after all.
“Yes, I do. Sometimes I think he’s the only thing that gets me out of bed every day, to keep going when.” she stopped before she said too much.
“When? What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, Ruby. Tell me.”
In that instant the ties between them, every strand of longing and lust and goodness they’d shared the past couple of days came down to this moment, from the tightness around his lips to the stark concentration in his unwavering gaze, patient and expectant. He could wait out her stubbornness his look said.
Her body settled into a sense of inevitability, that if she didn’t confide something---anything to him now they would be done. She couldn’t expect him to believe he was the man on the side and just to take it. She supposed even bad outlaws with an even worse reputation had some moral compass and being the dick on the side probably in her guestimate wasn’t gonna cut it.
Ruby’s sigh could have blown a house down.
******
Preacher always had a sixth sense about inevitability. That day in the blazing Afghanistan sun he'd had a feeling of dread he couldn't shake all day. An awareness of things out in the dark he couldn't avoid, that awareness had kept him alive more times than he could count. Of events stacking up, paths being forged, he felt now he'd been meant to be a Souls member, but the events having to pile up to get him there, some were too devastating for him to even think about, every choice in life, the results of which would not be seen for years to come. Usually, these inevitable things were bad. For him, anyway. For his older brother, definitely. He wished things were different. He'd give up his patch and place in his outlaw family to have that asshat back joking around with him again.
Inevitability came in many forms and every time he let his eyes land on Ruby, he felt it kick in his chest. Was she one?
Pain collected under his ribs the moment he saw she was going to avoid it all. He swallowed back a groan.
He could force her into telling him what he wanted to know, but then she'd hate him and he’d lose her. He could force her in the ways that got her off, render her weak and begging, she'd tell him anything he wanted to know, his tiny dancer was a slave to her hormones in those few minutes between the precipices of her pleasure, she'd agreed to seeing him, hadn't she? but he didn't want to force her. Tell me of your own free will, he wanted to say.
“Are you going to tell me about what happened back there with the guy?”
He never wanted her to hear. So, in that respect, he could appreciate how she was evading spilling her own secrets. Only, his attacks and screw-ups in the past had no impact on the hook-ups, it was just majorly fucking embarrassing for her to know that. So, it wasn’t the same.
“Not right now, no. If it becomes relevant to us.”
“I’m sorry about your brother.”
“Thank you.”
"When will it become relevant?"
"It's not looking good right now, baby."
“So, I have to share all but you don’t? How is that fair?” Her brows bunched in the middle, and he swore she was even cuter. It took everything not to lean forward and kiss the frown, to take her in his arms and fix every problem that put the worried lines on her face.
He had to keep his voice hard.
"Beautiful, I'm just a fuck, remember. Someone's cock you want inside you, so why do you want to know about me? It doesn't matter if I have PTSD or why Red Light hates me, it has no standing to the orgasms I give you. Isn't that the rules you set up? No personal connection. I’m wondering why you can’t just tell me who this mystery guy is.”
“He’s not a guy, for god sake. And just so you know you’re pissing me off pushing this. You’re right, we set those rules out, I’m getting the sense you no longer agree with them. If you don’t just say so, no harm no foul, Preacher.”
“Beautiful…” He laughed a rough noise, resting both arms on his thighs, turning his head to look across at her, eyes so chocolatey solemn he wanted to bring her onto his lap and just hold her. “You wouldn’t have dinner with me, you bitched when I fixed your car, you wouldn’t even let me buy you a can of gas, this was all you’d give me, of course, I agree with your edicts. I fucking want you, inside you, all over you until you can’t breathe for screaming my name. That’s what I want. But not if you’re making me some other side bastard. We have sex between us, Ruby, it doesn’t mean It has to be cheap, at least give me the fucking option so I know when I’m spilling my come all over your belly you have some fucker at home waiting for you. I might want you to smell like me, to be stained in me until you only think of my cock.”
She sucked in air.
Yeah, baby. That’s my truth.
He smiled gently and reached out grabbing her hand, stroking her fingertips. He felt them tremor a little, his own groin still thrumming with blood, wanting the release more than anything. She surrendered so quickly, it turned him to a goddamn walking cock every time they’re together. Stopping had been… difficult. He needed her. Wanted her constantly. It was a gut ache, a thirst in the back of his throat. If he wasn’t tasting her orgasms he was hungry.
Why can’t I accept this? Why am I pushing her? Possibly driving her away altogether. It was far from what he craved, the opposite, in fact. If he could prize every secret out of Ruby and tie her to him he’d be a happy asshole.
Tie her to the kinda man he was though? Nah. But he wanted what they had, nothing more nothing less. Now that was threatened by some dickhead he may or may not be murdering soon, that shit was still up in the air.
Even if it meant he pushed too far and she got blood under her nails because the way she was glaring at him right now was murderous.
His cock ached and demanded some fucker take it out of its confines and give it a good stroke.
No such luck. Not when she was mentally backing off from him.
And now he was more than curious. She was guarding this guy with her all.
He didn’t know why his gut hurt. Twisty and bile rose through his digestive tract, burning.
“Fuck it,” he growled in his throat. Cock springing harder, he was on her a second later, pressing her back into the bed, wrenching her legs open, grinding his full palm between, eating at her mouth like he had no plans to do anything else for the rest of his life.
When he let her up for air she gasped, eyes half-masted and glazed.
Every muscle in his body tensed.
It was so fucking electrifying he had to take in a lungful of air. To see her like this, this was the true Ruby, not that bullshit she fed him. This wet moaning sweet and goddamn beautiful his teeth ached, clinging Ruby, was the truest version of herself.
And he was going to have her.
She tried to pull her arm away when he grasped the top of it, when he stripped the hoodie from her, dragging her from the bed, the bed was too soft, too personal and it already smelled of their sex. Too strong for her, he easily overpowered, he wasn’t letting her win. Not this. Not fucking this.
Preacher was hanging onto his temper, oh, not that he’d lay a hand on her in any other way that wasn’t pleasure, but she needed to know now he was in charge, he’d fuck her blue and make her scream and she’d know it was him doing it to her, she’d know she’d pissed him off. He tightened his fingers.
There was only four pieces of furniture in the room. The bed, which for right now was out, the chair, maybe later, and the TV table. But he led her over to the chest of draws. Measured against Ruby, they were chest high.
Just perfect.
He was turned on despite the anger.
“Place your hands here. Don’t move them, beautiful.”
She didn’t. Nuzzling her neck, he groaned. He could tell he’d fucked with the simplicity of her orders and wasn’t that just tough shit for his tin
y dancer.
She was going to know now.
You didn’t make a man like Asher Priest angry and unsettled in his own damn tight skin.
He didn’t hulk out. Nah, nothing like that. For Ruby, with her very own personal catered to punishment, he was going to get very detailed in how he dealt with her.
He was going to teach that little darling a hard lesson by giving her the fucking of a lifetime.
Let her go home to the prick and show him her wrecked pussy.
Yeah. Preacher was here. It would say. Every twinge and pulse a hot reminder who owned it, who fucking owned that pussy. To show her just who, he thrust his hand between her legs, the moan she emitted sounded like a wounded animal and it traveled through his chest, a hot wet sound, so fucking breathy he almost lost it, her back fully curved, soft at the base, she took it when he petted her roughly.
“You’ve been a bad girl, Ruby. You know it, don’t you?”
“Preacher…”
“If you want this.” This was his fingers tearing through her soaked lips and spearing into her. “You’ll say it.”
“God. Yes! Fuck me, Asher. Please,” his name, just like that. Fuck.
She thought she was the only one with walls. All his crashed of their own free will and shattered into rubble at her feet. Surrendering to the sensation in his chest.
Some no big deal shit was happening and he couldn’t bring himself to care about it, not when he had perfection in his hands, his other one plucking at her nipples until both hard-little pebbles, perfect for sucking, but he’d get to those babies soon enough.
“Oh, hurry. I’m so turned on. Hurry, Asher. Hurry.”
She writhed like an animal grinding against his big hand, enthralled in four fingers dancing over her sex.
Everything was vibrant and in multicolor. Spots danced behind his eyelids, reining himself in before he rutted her like a bull.
Everything tasted like sex. He panted for air, lifting her hips as he reached down to bodily position her against the chest of drawers, knocking her legs wider, not that she needed encouragement there, she was already opening for him
