Torn by the Devil: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Broken Wings MC) (Satan's Outlaw Sins Book 3)

by Sophia Gray

  I broke off the kiss and held up my two wet fingers, bringing them close to her face. "Lick them."

  Jasmine looked me straight in the eyes, defiant as fuck. She gave her head a saucy little shake that had my cock growing so hard I thought it would burst. "No."

  I narrowed my eyes, both enjoying our sparring and wanting her to give into me. "I said—"

  "You lick them," she countered coolly.

  Damn it all. I was the one in charge, but I did want to taste her. Her juices always tasted so fucking good. My cock was so ready for her pussy right now, but she had to learn her place. I was in charge. Not her. Maybe she could be another time, but right the fuck now belonged to me.

  I held up one of the fingers to her lips. She parted them and sucked it, hard, my arousal so strong I felt some pre-cum ooze out of the tip of my cock. Fucking amazing. Although I thought about sucking dry the other finger, she kept her mouth open when I pulled out, so I gave her the other one. This one she caressed with her tongue, and even more pre-cum dripped. Fuck. I was in trouble.

  "Isn't it better when you listen to me?" I whispered, clinging to some measure of control.

  "I…" Her eyelids fluttered closed briefly, before opening again, her eyes were dark with desire and something else that I couldn't quite read. "Pax, we can't just ignore what we talked about and—"

  "Why not?" I grabbed her ass and shoved her body against mine, grinding our pelvises together. She had to feel had hard I was, and her eyes widening a little told me she did. "Sometimes, words aren't enough. We can let our bodies do the talking instead."

  "We need…" She sounded as breathless, as she always did, when we finished our fuck sessions, and we hadn't even really started yet. "We should…"

  "We need to fuck. We should fuck. We will fuck" A promise. One I was more than willing to keep.

  She shook her head as if in a daze, but she didn't resist when I brought her hands up and around the back of my neck. "Pax, no."

  "You can't tell me you don't want to." I pressed against her again.

  "I do want to. I do want you," she all but whined, "but now isn't the time or the place—"

  "Not here?" I grabbed her hands and dragged her around the table to the desk in the corner. How many times had I daydreamed about this? After she'd left me and I should've been focused on missions during meetings with the guys, I would glance over at the desk and imagine what it would be like to bend Allie over it and fuck her from behind.

  And now, I was going to turn that daydream into reality. I couldn't get started fast enough.

  With a flick of my arm, I cleared it off. Books and pens thudded onto the floor, scattering about, loud and echoing throughout the room, just like Jasmine's shouts would be soon.

  She jumped at the commotion, clearly startled.

  "Just submit to me." Despite myself, I was pleading. With my voice, with my eyes, with my body… with everything I had to offer. I needed her to be on my side. I needed her with me. I couldn't have her leaving me. Not again. I wouldn't be able to handle another heartbreak. Not when she was finally mending the heart she'd broken in the first place. Only she could heal what she'd ruined.

  Without her, I was nothing. With her, I actually had a chance at being somebody. Couldn't she see that? Didn't she care? Or did she think the only things I could offer her were sex, a bed, and crappy food?

  "You're too much, Pax. I can't…" She shook her head, avoiding my gaze. Her hair partially covering her face. "I can't do this."

  Was she really turning me the fuck down? No. That wasn't possible…was it? She had always wanted me in the past.

  "I can't… I don't… Oh, God." Tears were filling her eyes.

  Fuck that shit. I took her face in my hands again and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her eyes, the tears that started to fall, her lips, and more tears. Then she was touching my face and kissing me back, all over my face, my neck and back up again. Our lips met again and again, it was passion and heat and desperation. I swore I started to sweat. How could she ever try to resist me? On the other hand, how could I ever try to resist her? We were cut from the same line, and sex was the knot that kept us together. We needed each other.

  "You're so freaking irresistible," she murmured against my mouth.

  And so was she. Fucking hell, so was she.

  My hands dropped down to her hips, and I turned her around, guiding her to bend down over the desk. Her fine ass stuck out straight toward me, and I slapped it with one hand while my other worked to unzip myself. She gasped out a moan and stretched out her body, her arms dangling off the other edge of the desk, her ass lifting slightly higher into the air. Just perfect. Even better than I had imagined.

  Even though we were both still wearing clothes, it didn't matter. I had my cock out and her wet pussy was exposed, now that I moved her panties to the side. Before I slipped inside of her, I bent down and licked her folds. She gasped and writhed, not away from me but toward me, giving me better access to her and her juices. I lapped them up, as she shoved herself closer to me and my mouth. When my tongue touched her clit, she screamed.

  "You like that, huh?"

  "Oh… Yes…" she said between pants.

  "Do you like how I make you feel?"

  "God, yes, Pax, come on!" She shoved her ass toward me again.

  I palmed her cheeks and pushed her back. "Now, now. I'll decide when you come."

  "Well?" she demanded.

  "Not yet."

  She groaned and slapped a hand onto the table. "Pax, you better fuck me right now or else I'm going to…"

  "You're going to what?" I asked, grinning wildly. The idea of her thinking she might be able to threaten me was comical. She might tease me for a while sexually, but in the end, I'd still come. And I always made sure she did at least once. Most of the time, it was multiple orgasms for her. Once or twice, we had a round when I actually ejaculated twice. Now that was epic.

  We were amazing together. Fucking amazing.

  Without giving her any warning, I stood and slipped inside of her. She felt so fucking tight. It felt so fucking good. Like I was able to find peace with her, only when I was with her. She was my light. My life had been so dark before her, after her. But with her, I felt as if I might have actually found a place where I belonged.

  Whimpering, she pressed her ass back towards me, and I laughed. Oh, yeah, I was in control now, and she knew it. "Not going fast enough for you?" I teased.

  "You're not moving at all." She looked over her shoulder at me, her lips in a perfect pout. "Please, Pax."

  I laughed some more, enjoying myself far too much. "Just…" I pulled out of her completely and grinned at her groan. "You…" I slammed back inside, and this time, she moaned with pleasure. "Wait."

  In and out, forceful and quick, deep and wild, I rode her and rode her and rode her. Each thrust sent a rush of pleasure through me. This was what I needed from her. This was what I craved. No one else made me feel like she did, and I wasn't just referring to the sex.

  Her hands reached out and gripped the desk. She was holding on as if her life depended on it.

  No. Her life depended on me. And I was pretty sure mine depended on her.

  Scratch that. Mine did depend on hers too.

  Fuck it all. I might be the boss right this second, but I had the feeling that wasn't always going to be the case. Fuck. It. All. Maybe that was actually what I—what we—needed. For us to take turns being king or queen of the hill. Give and take. But would that be enough for her? Would she still want to change me instead of accepting me for who I was? Did I even deserve her after all of the fucked up shit I've done and planned on continuing to do in the future?

  My emotions were roiling again, and I poured all of my aggression, anger, and frustration into each plunge, trying to strip them away and replace them with her goodness and light. She was moaning so loud everyone in a two-mile radius had to hear her. It made me swell with pride.

  "Are you going to take this?" I grunted in time
with my thrusts. "Are you going to let me do what I want to you?"

  "What… Oh, yes, right there! What do you… Yes, yes! You want?" She was panting, and her walls were so tight, I wasn't sure how much longer I could last myself. As far as I could tell, she hadn't come yet either, which amazed me. Normally, it was so easy for me to make her come. I sure hoped that the buildup for her worked the same as it did for me—the longer I delayed it, the better it was.

  "I want to come inside of you until I have no more cum inside of me." I pulled out until only the tip remained inside of her then inched back in slowly, teasing us both. Shit, that was torture.

  "Yes. Yes!" She wiggled her ass backward, toward me. "Come inside me! Come now!"

  "You come now," I countered. I paused my thrusts and yanked hard enough on her hips so there was a little bit of room between her pussy and the desk, just enough space for me to slip my hand beneath the front of her panties. I worked her clit, soft at first, too gently to make her come despite the forceful thrusts I was now back to pounding into her pussy. "You like that?"

  She whimpered. "Oh… Pax… I want to come…"

  I loved listening to her moan, especially when she was saying my name, although I loved it even more when she was screaming my name.

  "Come, baby," I demanded. I applied enough pressure, the amount I'd learned long ago that would make her squeal, and the walls of her pussy squeezed my cock so hard the force of her orgasm had me coming with her.

  I continued to pump in and out of her until I was sure that every last drop of cum had jetted out of me. Until I was bone dry.

  I was the boss. Me.

  I was almost, not as fucking pissed as I was before we'd started fucking. Almost.

  But I was still going after that guy. Nothing would change that. Nothing and no one.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jasmine

  Parts of yesterday were a blur. I knew Pax and I had fought and then he left me, only to come back and almost force himself on me. But he could never really force himself on me. I wanted him too damn much and he knew it. When it came to him, I was a mess, even more so than my life normally was. And it was a complete and total mess. The magical bubble we had been in, in the cove, had shattered. I couldn't deny who he was. A part of him was a killer and if I couldn't get through to him, he would never change. And if he never changed, how could I remain with him?

  After we had sex… after he had fucked me while I was bent over a desk. He said he wanted to come inside me until he had no more inside of him. So dirty. So hot. After he'd pulled out of me, some of his cum still remained on his cock, so I had climbed off the desk and kneeled in front of him. I took his cock in my hands, and I licked every last drop. He closed his eyes, and the expression on his face was the most peaceful I'd ever seen. It was incredible. It was empowering to realize how much I could affect him.

  But not enough to get him to change. Not enough to get him to see reason. Not enough for him to stop his crazy missions.

  After all that, I can’t even recall what happened. A blur of nothingness. Just a blank space where my memories should be. Could you be fucked into amnesia? I doubted it, but I hated that I couldn't remember the details. Would memory loss always be a thing for me? The car accident had robbed so much of me, and while I was glad I was giving Pax a second chance, maybe I was right to walk away from him when I did before.

  Here I was, in his bed, the next morning, and I was all alone. His side of the bed was cold. I dimly remembered him getting up a long while ago. It couldn't be that late in the day, was it? I glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Eight twenty-two. Not super early, but not late by any means.

  What could he be doing? Maybe he was downstairs eating breakfast. I hoped that was the case, but while I might not remember my past, I hadn't been born yesterday. I had a feeling I knew exactly what he was doing, even if that meant I didn't know where exactly he was. And that thought erased my hunger. I didn't know whether to be upset with him or to feel terrified for him. He was going to get himself killed, didn't he realize that? Didn't he care?

  If he died, where would that leave me? I only had a bed to sleep in and a roof over my head because of him, but I wasn't worried about being out on the street. All I cared about was him; his safety and his wellbeing—both in body and in mind. Could he be saved? Not without help, but if he didn't want to be saved…

  With a deep breath, I released a sigh that didn't make me feel any better, but at this point, I wasn't sure if anything would. I slowly forced myself to climb out of the soft bed. The carpet was scratchy beneath my feet as I walked over to his dresser. I opened Pax's top drawer to grab one of his shirts, since I was tired of wearing the same shirt, even though I washed it daily. I really needed a job to buy more clothes.

  Lying on top of his shirts was a light blue shirt. I giggled at the thought of Pax wearing it. He was too much of a bad ass biker to wear something that shade, but then I realized it was a ladies' shirt.

  A Jasmine blue ladies' shirt, with the tag still on it.

  He must have bought it for me. When, I don't know. Before our argument? After? Probably after. We had spent all of the morning and early afternoon together. Back when I had been better able to pretend Pax was just an ordinary guy. Well, not ordinary, but back when it had been easier to forget about his past and his job. Back when I thought we might be able to one day leave all of this stupid crap behind us. I had told him what I wanted in the future, about my dream job, but I hadn't told him what I wanted the future to hold for him, or for us. And I did want for there to be an us. I so badly wanted to fix him, but was that even possible? He was so damaged. I was only beginning to realize just how damaged he was. Could someone come back from all of that? There was so much pain inside of him. So much raw anger and hatred. It was entirely possible that some of that hatred was geared toward himself. Did he even feel any guilt for the lives he was taking? I doubted it, and if he didn't feel any guilt, why would he want to stop? Did killing those pedophiles actually help him? Did it make him feel better? God, that would be so messed up!

  I had no idea how to help him, but this…. this shirt… I held it up to my chest and closed my eyes. Pax was more than just a killer. He was so much more. Complicated and layered.

  He cared for me. Trusted me. Was it possible that I could help him learn how to cope with his emotions, to get him to realize right from wrong? And while I helped him sort through the issues of his past, maybe he could help me with my own. If he took me to places we'd been to together or even just talked to me about things we'd done, maybe something would help trigger my memories. Because while I was trying to move forward and forge a new life for myself, I still felt like a piece of myself was missing. While he needed to forget his past for the sake of his future, I wanted to remember my past so I could figure out the direction of my life going forward.

  I washed up and pulled out my new shirt. Something dropped to the floor. A cell phone. Not Pax's. One for me. Only two numbers were programmed in; his and one labeled "witch."

  There was only one person I could think of that he would call that—my sister Marie. I sat on the edge of the bed and dialed her.

  She answered on the third ring. "If you're calling to sell me something, hang up now because I am not in the mood."

  I laughed. "It's me."

  "Allie! I mean Jasmine! It's so good to hear from you!" She sounded so happy, eager even. "Does this mean you want me to come get you?"

  I'd almost forgotten about our blow up, too concerned with Pax and our fight. "No. Not yet at least."

  "Not yet." I could just tell what she was thinking: Not yet was progress. "So what's up? Why did you call?"

  I bit my lower lip. "Mom and Dad… I can't believe I didn't ask about this before, but did you let them know I'm all right? I don't remember their number. Although I don't really know what I would talk to them about. I mean, I don't want to tell them about the car accident and the van incident and all that. But they should know I'm all r
ight. They must be so worried. Unless you talked to them?" I held my breath. God, I was rambling.

  "Actually…" Marie hesitated.

  "What?" I bit my lower lip.

  "They never knew you went missing. I just didn't want them to worry! If you had been gone for much longer, I would've told them, but between Dad's heart problems and—"

  "Dad has heart problems?"

  "Oh, yeah. He had a triple bypass surgery two years ago. And Mom suffers from anxiety, and I just didn't think they should worry. It's not as though you never ran off like that before. You have. Just never for so long or without at least checking in periodically. Oh, I should've told them. I should've!"