Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2)

by Hayley Faiman

  “I won’t hurt you baby, never,” he coos, his voice softer than a few moments ago. My hands go back to his thighs, as his strokes continue but they’re slower, softer, sweeter—I need to come. It’s not a want anymore, it’s a need, but my eyes are locked with Bates’ and there’s no way I can let go. He has me suspended and pinned in limbo.

  “My dick only, Brentlee. No stupid shit, no other fucking men. I’ll kill them. I’ve killed before and I’ll do it again. No fucking hesitation. This pussy is for me only. Should have always been mine, but I fucked up,” he murmurs before his lips touch mine and his hand loosens around my throat.

  “Why do you still want me?” I ask against his lips. He doesn’t kiss me, his eyes don’t close, and his thrusts become slower, softer, sweeter.

  “I haven’t been whole since I walked away from you. I haven’t slept peacefully since then, and I haven’t lived. I’ve been surviving, just like you have, but in my own way. Besides, every piece of you was always meant to be mine, Brentlee. Denying it only makes us miserable. You don’t have to be my Old Lady, but your cunt is only for me,” he whispers. “Come on my cock, tigritsa,” he grinds out before his tongue slides deep into my mouth and he shows me just how he does, in fact, own me.

  I scream into his mouth as my pussy clenches and I come around him. Bates grunts as his cock grows and then twitches inside of me. He comes with a groan that I swallow. His hand tightens around my throat before he releases it completely and moves his fingers into the back of my hair. He nuzzles my neck with his bearded face and lips.

  I start to move my hands from his thighs, but then I feel him nip my neck with his teeth.

  “Don’t fuckin’ move a goddamn muscle,” he mutters into my skin.

  I freeze where I am, my legs wrapped around his lower back, my fingers still digging into his strong thighs. His heavy body resting on top of mine, the weight probably more than I should be able to bear—but with him, I welcome it.

  “Tell me its mine, Brentlee,” he murmurs before he licks my skin then gently sucks it into his mouth.

  “I can’t, Bates, I just… can’t.” I sob, my body shaking beneath him.

  “I’ll get you there, Brentlee. Swear to fuck, babe, I’ll get you there. I’ll get you where you were always meant to be and get you living again,” he says as he begins to slowly fuck me, again.

  My pussy is already sore, but when he tilts his hips and his cock hits me in just the most perfect way, I relax my body to accept more. I won’t be able to walk tomorrow, but I don’t care. All I care about is Bates inside of me, owning me. He does. I don’t want to admit it out loud, but he owns every piece of me.

  “Okay, only your big dick,” I grumble. He laughs, his breath hot on my neck, and he continues his slow thrusts.

  “Thanks, tigritsa. Now, take it again before we pass out,” he grunts.

  Bates’ fingers tighten in my hair as his lips suck and bite my neck; but his cock, Jesus, his big, beautiful cock possesses me with every plunge. When I come, again, it is on a slow burn, a build that overwhelms me.

  I don’t scream, or cry, I simply tremble beneath him as my pussy squeezes around him. Bates comes again, inside of me, and I feel a closeness to a man, a closeness I didn’t realize that had been missing for over ten years. I want to continue to try and push him away, but Bates won’t let me. He sees me, and no matter how much I try to deny it, he’s what I’ve been craving all these years. This is what was always meant to be. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, or the next day. I don’t know if I will continue to accept him as my lover, but for now, this feels right.

  Sniper

  Once I’ve come for the second time, I allow Brentlee to release my legs. Fuck, having her all wrapped up in me, completely at my mercy, was fuckin’ gorgeous. I tell her to stay where she is and go into the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth and running it under water before I take it back to the bed to clean her up.

  “I can clean myself, Bates,” she murmurs as her face tints pink with embarrassment.

  “Quiet,” I grunt as I spread her legs and look at her swollen pink pussy. I groan at the sight of my cum leaking out of her.

  It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

  I ignore her protests and clean her, throwing the wash cloth toward the bathroom door once I’m finished. Then, I pick her up and gently lie her down on her side of the bed before I reach around and unclasp her bra. I’m disappointed in myself for not taking it off sooner so I could watch her pretty tits bounce with each thrust of my hips. Once I have pulled her bra off, I drop it on the ground and then cover her up with the sheet and comforter.

  Walking toward the door I unlatch the lock and open it, so that when Stella wakes up she isn’t frightened and can get to Brentlee easily. Then, I go back to my side of the bed and slip beneath the sheets myself before I turn to my side and gather her in my arms. Fuck, she feels good there too. Soft and warm, and her smell—fuck. She smells like her lotions, and me, and sex. The combination makes my cock stir.

  “What are you doing?” she asks drowsily.

  “Going to sleep,” I murmur before I kiss her bare shoulder.

  “You’re naked and in bed with me,” she points out.

  “Yeah.”

  “When Stella wakes up, you’re going to confuse her,” she says. It irritates me. What did she think was going to happen when I claimed that pussy?

  “You’re livin’ in a fuckin’ dream world you think I’m going to sleep on the couch after I got back in that sweet cunt of yours,” I point out. She lets out a heavy sigh.

  “But Stella,” she says in an urging tone.

  “You think Stella don’t know you’re done with her daddy? You think Stella don’t realize what’s happening here? She’s three, but she ain’t fuckin’ stupid, Brent,” I tell her. She stiffens in my arms.

  I tighten my grip around her, because if she gets out of my grasp, she might try and act crazy. Not tonight. I’m fuckin’ beat. I just had the best sex I’ve had in over ten years and I’m sobering up. I need sleep.

  “She’ll see me jumping from one man to another,” she announces like she knows what the fuck she’s talking about.

  “She’ll see you leaving an abusive piece of shit you don’t love and going to a man who will treat you right, is what she’ll see. She’ll see you taking care of yourself, of her, and getting stronger. She’ll see all that shit because all of that is the fucking truth. You won’t be hopping from man to man, Brentlee, because there is no other man after me.”

  “What if we don’t work out,” she whispers. I roll her flat on her back and crawl on top of her, my arms caging in her head.

  “Do I need to fuck you again to show you just how right we are? Do I need to explain what it means when I tell you that only my cock sinks inside that tight cunt of yours?” I ask as I stare into those gorgeous honey colored eyes of hers.

  “Okay, Bates,” she says. Her husky voice washes over me as her hand comes up and cradles the side of my neck.

  “Not losin’ you again, Brentlee, not after all this time. I got you where I want you and we’re gonna work this out. Eventually, you’ll be my Old Lady. You’ll have my name inked on this gorgeous body of yours, and my babies will grow inside of you. Might take years to get there, but babe, hear this—that’s where we’ll be,” I announce. Her mouth falls open in surprise. I kiss her so she can’t say anymore stupid as fuck shit.

  “Now go to sleep before I fuck that hot pussy again,” I grunt, which makes her roll her eyes.

  Our serious conversation is on hold, not over, for the time being. She rolls out from underneath me and backs that sweet ass into my dick as she settles in. I wrap her up in my arms again and nestle my face into her hair, inhaling that scent of hers, before I close my eyes and pray that a dreamless sleep overtakes me.

  Tomorrow is a new day. A new beginning, for us. It’s not where I wish we were, but it’s one step closer. Having her to myself will at least ease my frustration at
the fact that she won’t completely surrender to me. I don’t think it’ll take long, though. Once she’s one hundred percent mine, I’m never letting her ass go.

  She and Stella are mine.

  Mine to protect.

  Mine to care for.

  Mine to love.

  Brentlee

  “Mommy,” a sweet little voice stage whispers in my face.

  I pinch my eyes closed tightly before I open them and find Stella about two centimeters away from my nose. Her eyes are wide and bright and she has a huge smile on her face. I, however feel as though I have slept about five minutes. I feel hungover, even though I didn’t drink a drop last night.

  “Stella,” I whisper back. She giggles.

  “Bates is sweeping,” she says.

  My eyes widen and my body stiffens. I’m naked, he’s naked, and Stella is right there—her eyes wide and bright and focused on me. Oh, holy shit.

  “Yes, he is. Why don’t you go into the living room and get a toy out and I’ll be there in a minute to make breakfast,” I say, trying not to sound panicked, though panicked is exactly how I feel.

  “Okay, mommy,” she says before she shrugs and runs off.

  “Told you she wouldn’t give a fuck,” Bates murmurs gruffly behind me.

  “I need to get up,” I say, ignoring his gloating.

  “Sleep. You worked your gorgeous ass off last night, and this morning,” he chuckles kissing my shoulder before he stands and walks to the dresser. It’s his only piece of furniture, other than the bed in the room.

  Wordlessly, I watch as he pulls on a pair of black boxer briefs, and I sigh at how freaking fantastic his ass looks in them. I have never been an ass woman, but Bates’ ass, it’s worthy of a swoon or two. Then, he pulls on a pair of low waisted sweats and grabs a black tank, covering his gorgeous chest, but luckily leaving his gigantic arms on display for me to ogle.

  I hold my breath when he walks over to me and plants a fist and knee in the bed before he leans down and his lips brush my cheek. His beard rubs against me, and it makes me break out in a light sheen of sweat. I want that rough beard to rub against the rest of my body, now.

  “Sleep, tigritsa,” he murmurs. I close my eyes, falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

  Hours later, I wake to a quiet house, too quiet. I sit straight up in a panic and grab Bates’ shirt from the floor, throwing it on before I rush out of the bedroom. Stella should be playing loudly, the television should be on, and there should be noise everywhere.

  I run to the living room only to find the television off and the space empty. My next stop is the kitchen. There is evidence of breakfast scattered all around, but no Stella and no Bates. I rush out of the front door and stop dead in my tracks on the porch.

  Stella is on a little bicycle, equipped with training wheels. Her hair is in pigtail braids, and she’s wearing a pink helmet on her head. Bates is crouching down behind her, in jeans and a tight t-shirt, a smile on his face as he holds onto the bike seat behind her little booty. She has the biggest, happiest smile on her chubby cheeks as her feet peddle the bike forward, with the help of Bates pushing behind her.

  The sight is so gorgeous, so absolutely beautiful, that I can’t help but get emotional. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. The tears fall, and I do nothing to try and stop them or wipe them away. Bates is teaching my daughter how to ride a bike on an old dirt road, in front of my dream house. He’s doing something with her that her own father never once even tried to do. He’s spending quality time with her.

  I feel a pang in my chest. It hurts. It’s too sweet. All I can think is that it’s never going to last, and Stella will be destroyed. I’ll be devastated and I’ll never move on from him; but Stella, she’ll be completely and totally destroyed when he finally leaves us. The thought makes me cry even harder.

  “Mama, I wide,” Stella yells with a smile.

  “Good job, sweet girl,” I call out, trying to keep my voice from wavering with emotion.

  Bates’ head comes up and I hold my breath when he smiles—full on bright with white teeth smile. I watch as his eyes scan my barely covered body. His gaze intensifies, turning even darker. Then his smile turns into a naughty smirk. I can almost see the dirty thoughts running through his head.

  “Go get dressed, baby. LeeLee and the kids are coming over,” he announces. My mood immediately shifts.

  “Yeah?” I excitedly ask.

  “Lee wanted to have lunch and do a playdate. I got some shit to do, but I’ll have protection here for you,” he calls out. I cringe at the language he uses in front of Stella, but I don’t say anything.

  “Okay,” I say before I turn to leave.

  “You look beautiful, baby,” he calls out. I freeze before I turn to face him in surprise.

  “What?” I ask, surely mishearing his words.

  I can’t look beautiful. My hair is a ratted, matted mess, and my makeup from last night is assuredly smeared under my eyes. I’m nothing short of a disaster.

  “Heard me, babe. You look beautiful. Now go get dressed,” he grunts.

  A shiver runs through my body at his words. Beautiful. It’s been so long since a man has said that word to me and meant it, truly meant it.

  I don’t respond. Instead, I hurry inside and get ready to see my sister. I don’t bother looking at myself in the mirror. I don’t want to see myself. Bates thinks I’m beautiful and I want to relish in that, soak that in. I don’t want to see the truth looking back at me in the mirror.

  Once I am dressed, I can hear that Stella and Bates are back in the house. There is a cartoon movie on television, blasting, and her voice is boisterously singing along to the song currently playing. I tip-toe past them and walk into the kitchen to clean it. I don’t want Kentlee coming over and seeing a dirty kitchen. I would be embarrassed.

  I gasp when two strong hands wrap around my waist as I am washing the last dish. I moan when his lips touch that spot right behind my ear, and then when one of his hands slides up my belly to cup my breast—I melt.

  “Bates,” I murmur.

  “Morning, beautiful,” he whispers as he gently sucks on my skin.

  “It’s afternoon,” I point out. He chuckles behind me, pulling me into his chest. “Thank you for doing that with Stella,” I murmur.

  “She said she’d never been on a bike before. Vault brought that over the other day; his daughter outgrew it,” he announces. It makes my heart skip a beat.

  That is so nice of Vault, and this club, for taking care of not only me, but Stella too. It’s the sweetest thing that anybody has ever done for us. Bates and his club. I can’t even put my gratitude into words.

  “I don’t know what to say. It’s all so much,” I whisper, looking out the little kitchen window in front of me.

  “Nothin’ to say, baby, except thanks. We take care of our own as much as we can,” he states before his fingers squeeze my breast. I whimper.

  “Bates.”

  “Want you again tonight when you come home, baby,” he informs me as he grinds his hard, jean covered cock between my ass.

  “It’s going to be a late night again,” I warn.

  “I won’t be home until after three, then I’m going to fuck you at least twice,” he grunts before he plucks my hardened nipple over the top of my bra and shirt.

  “You’ll be at the strip club, then?” I ask as I turn in his arms to face him.

  “I will. That’s my job, Brent. I manage the club and the girls. I have to be there,” he says, his face hardened and his eyes even harder.

  “I know. I just…” I let my insecure words trail off. He doesn’t need me acting insecure and totally bat-shit crazy.

  “You just what?” he asks with narrowed eyes as his hands wrap around my ass.

  “You’ll be there with naked women all night long,” I say on a sigh, turning my head to the side. I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want him to see my voiced insecurities.

  “Think I can’t keep my dick in my pants?
” he grunts.

  I don’t answer.

  I don’t want to tell him even more truths about my life just a few short weeks ago. I don’t want him to feel even more pity for me. He’s already heard enough about my life—my marriage.

  “Brent,” he whispers. I turn to face him, my eyes shining with tears.

  “He cheat on you, too?” he asks, reading me. He reads me so damn well. I should be angry, but I can’t be. He knows me. He’s always known me.

  “Yeah,” I croak.

  Bates’ hands cup my cheeks and his thumbs sweep the wetness from underneath my eyes before his lips gently touch mine. I sigh when his forehead rests against mine and his nose slides against my own.

  “When I told you last night that your pussy takes no other dick but mine—that goes the other way, too, baby. I don’t want anybody else, not when I have you at home. It’s you, tigritsa. No other woman makes me feel the way you do. He’s a fuckin’ moron and an asshole. I’ll never purposely do anything to hurt you or Stella, ever.”

  I let out a shaky breath at his words. Me. It’s always been me. He’s said them before, but the way he is looking at me now, like he sees me, like he knows exactly who I am—there is no more illusion that I’m this perfect, untouchable, mythical being from the past. He knows my ugly, he knows most of my secrets, and he knows what a slut I’ve been. Yet, he still wants me. I don’t understand why.

  “Why?” I ask what I’m thinking, but the rest of the words won’t come. Fortunately, the most important does.

  “If you can’t understand why I want you, only you, then that just means I have to work my ass off to show you. I can’t explain something like that, Brentlee. I have to show it. I’m your man, now. If you don’t want to label that for the public yet, that’s fine; but regardless, that’s exactly what I am.”

  I blink and just look at him, really look at him. He’s completely serious. He’s my man. Mine. The thought is so foreign. It’s been so long since I’ve thought of any man as my own. Since him, over ten years. Scotty was my husband, but he shared his body with whomever he wanted to, ignoring the ring on his finger. Bates was the last man who I called my own, and now he’s telling me again, he’s mine.