WOLF: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Evil Dead MC Series Book 4)

by Nicole James

  His mouth came down on hers, his tongue delving inside. He kept at it and at it, relentlessly plundering, barely giving either of them a chance to breathe.

  Finally, he broke away. “Say his name.”

  “Never,” she panted.

  “Oh, I think you will.” He rose up, straddling her hips to look down at her.

  Her eyes fell to the hand at his hip as it drew the knife from the sheath. He brought it to her chest and she held her breath as he gently lifted each strap of her bra and cut through them. Then he moved to the center of her bra and sliced through it as well.

  “Was that really necessary?”

  “You bet it was, baby doll.”

  Her chest heaved up and down as he returned the knife to its sheath and then pulled the bra free, tossing it aside. He sat back, his eyes coasting over her body, his warm palms landing on her stomach and then moving slowing up to cup her breasts. He squeezed, kneading them as his eyes flicked up to watch the reaction in her eyes, to see the desire flare to life again.

  “I can play nice. Or not. It’s all up to you.”

  He squeezed again, and her head fell back, her eyes closing as a moan escaped her lips.

  “Say his name,” he whispered, brushing his thumbs over her nipples, bringing them to sensitive peaks.

  She shook her head, rolling it from side-to-side on the pillow. His hands released her, and a moment later he pinched both nipples. Hard. She arched her back as the sharp jolt zinged through her, and she bit her lip against crying out. Oh, God, it felt so good.

  “Tell me.” His voice was sharp with demand as he applied more pressure.

  She shook her head. “Never.”

  He slid down her body, licking and nuzzling and nipping her skin all the way down. Her eyes followed his every movement. Then he settled between her legs, his broad chest holding her thighs wide and tucked under his arm pits. She couldn’t move. He had her held totally immobile and open, and at his mercy. He tore the lace of her panties, yanking them off with one strong tug, and she yelped.

  His eyes, dark and hungry, lifted to hers just before he settled his mouth down over her. The flat of his tongue stroked over her with long slow swipes. She bit her lip, her head falling back. She felt his mouth leave her a moment before she felt a sharp nip on her thigh.

  Her head came up as he ordered, “Keep your eyes on me.”

  She looked down her body at him.

  “Do you understand?” he pressed.

  She nodded and watched as his mouth settled over her again. His laving tongue stroked over her again and again until he had her worked into a frenzy, twisting with need for more. Her body began to undulate, revealing the need she fought so hard to control. He lifted his head, shifting and a moment later she felt him slide two fingers inside her, gliding up and rubbing until he found her G-spot. Her head fell back again when he found it, and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped as her control unraveled.

  “Bingo,” she heard him whisper as he began stroking it, first slow, and then fast, and then slow again. She writhed, and then his thumb stretched up to massage her clit. Her hips lifted in a dance as old as time, straining to meet his every stroke. A thin sheen of sweat broke out across her body as she struggled with the need he was driving higher and higher with every touch.

  When he had her balancing on the edge of orgasm, he backed off and she twisted, lifting her hips, straining to get back his touch. “No, please.”

  He tormented her with his tongue. Soft swipes that only brought her gently back down, and then he began with his fingers again, bringing her right back up to the edge again. This time he pressed his palm down on her lower belly, increasing the pressure of his fingers as they massaged the G-spot deep inside her.

  “Tell me his name,” he demanded as he continued his assault.

  She thrashed. “I can’t. I can’t.”

  He backed off again, and she thrashed all the more.

  “Please,” she begged.

  “You can stop it all with a name, sweetheart. Give him up, and all the torment stops.”

  Her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t. Won’t.”

  “You can and you will, Miss Devereux.”

  He began again. This time when she would have rocked against him, he held her immobile, completely vulnerable to whatever he chose to do to her. Keeping steady strokes on her clit with his thumb, he ramped up the torment until her body trembled, and her breath came in desperate little pants. Oh, God, she didn’t know how much longer she could take it without breaking.

  This time when he backed off, she could tell their play was getting to him just as much as it was her. But she also knew he liked to drag this out as long as she could bear it.

  “How far do I have to take this? Hmm? How much more can you take, pretty lady? I can keep at it all night.”

  They stared at one another, neither budging.

  “Tell me his name,” he ordered.

  “Shane,” she taunted him with a name she knew would piss him off.

  His teeth came down on her inner thigh again, and she yelped as she heard him growl, “Not funny, Crystal.”

  She must have really gotten to him if he broke the game to use her first name.

  “Tell me his name,” he growled again in a sharp tone.

  “Never. I’ll never tell you a thing.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Miss Devereux.”

  He slid from between her legs to stand at the foot of the bed. Her eyes watched every move he made as he kicked off his boots and jeans. He wanted her all right. His cock was rock hard. He grabbed it, giving it a long slow stroke.

  “You want this?”

  She stared at him, refusing to answer, refusing to tell him she was craving it.

  “Maybe I’ll fuck his name out of you.”

  He knelt between her legs again, his fingers delving into the slick wetness between her legs, stroking it up and over her. “Baby, you are definitely in need, aren’t you?”

  Then he moved over her.

  With one hand planted in the bed next to her upstretched arms, his other wrapped around his cock, he hovered above her, dominating and controlling every moment, every touch. She heard him suck in his own breath as he guided his cock to poise at her entrance. He teased her, rubbing the head up to her clit and back again. She writhed, pleading with her body, offering herself in silent invitation. Take me. Please take me.

  She gasped as he settled down over her, his movements stilling as he brushed the hair back from her face and nuzzled her neck.

  “Tell me,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Please,” she begged.

  “Tell me, and I’ll be gentle.” His voice cajoling and coaxing.

  Wolf knew how to sweet-talk his way into her pussy and her heart. But she also knew he didn’t want her to give in. Not really. So she did the only thing she could. She shook her head.

  He lifted his head to stare down at her a long moment, and she could see the look in his eyes, he practically willed her to obey. When she kept her mouth firmly shut, he grinned and lifted back, settling on his knees between her legs.

  “Rough it is, then.”

  Grabbing her behind her knees he pushed her legs up, pinning them up to the bed, and she caught her breath. He stared down at her, his cock lined up with her entrance.

  “Last chance, kitten.”

  She could see the heat glittering in his eyes, the feral savage need to take.

  When she stayed quiet, he paused one last moment before he plowed into her in one savage thrust. She gasped as he planted himself to the hilt and held himself there, rock hard. They stared at each other as he pulled out and slammed back into her, his hips bruising her thighs. He began his pounding assault, slow at first, and then faster with more power. She watched as a sheen of sweat formed on his skin as his muscles flexed with every driving roll of his hi
ps as he thrust into her again and again. He was like a fierce sleek animal dominating her into submission.

  She felt her traitorous body relenting, welcoming him with a new flood of lubrication. She couldn’t stop herself as her inner muscles clenched down in its own pulsing cadence. She could see he felt it too, and for a moment she thought he’d break, but then she watched him clench his teeth struggling to regain his unyielding control.

  Mastering it, he changed his pace, sliding deep in a slow torturous drive she was sure was designed to send her spiraling past any limit she tried to hold on to.

  Her hands itched to feel his skin, to stroke his muscles, to touch the light sheen of sweat she could see at his temple. The handcuffs rattled as she tugged involuntarily at her restraints, and her inner muscles clamped down on him, touching him the only way she could, the only way she had left.

  “Uh-uh, sweetheart. Don’t think you can control this, control me.”

  “I’m not, I—”, she broke off, overwhelmed with surging need. “Please.”

  Leaning over her, he gripped a handful of her hair, his mouth coming down on hers while he continued his brutal relentless onslaught until the need for oxygen took precedence. He broke free and dipped his head, his eyes going to where they were joined.

  Oh, God, could there be anything better?

  She loved everything about the way he was with her, the way he let that animal inside him out when they were together, turning all dominate; an alpha taking its mate. His name was so appropriate. He was a wolf. And tonight, he was her wolf.

  It didn’t matter that he wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of their crazy relationship. All that mattered was having each other, and the connection they had that no one else understood. No one else could ever understand this.

  Soon she could see the need building in him. He needed that release as badly as she did, but he’d wait. He’d wait until she said those words. He’d wait if it killed them both. If Wolf had one thing, it was steely control over his release.

  “Tell me,” he ground out, between clenched teeth, his jaw tight. “Tell me, and this torment stops for both of us.”

  She knew the game was over. He’d reached his breaking point, and he needed her to give in now. And she also knew the way his mind worked. She had to be the one to give in, because he never would.

  “Wolf,” she panted. “His name is Wolf.”

  With a groan, one hand left her leg and his thumb began stroking over her. He knew exactly how she liked to be touched, and he gave it to her, until she was thrashing with need. She soared higher and higher as he kept at her.

  “Give it to me, baby,” he rasped as he continued to thrust into her, changing his angle so that every stroke drove over her G-spot, again and again.

  She let go and soared over the edge, her body milking him with the contractions that shuttered through her body. She could tell he felt them as his thrusts became glides, and then he went solid above her as his climax rocked through him as well.

  They were both breathing hard as his body came down on her. She relished the weight of him and tugged on her wrists, longing to wrap her arms around him. The metal of the cuffs clinked together and he stirred, his eyes lifting to them. Reaching up, he undid the leather belt, freeing her from the bedpost. Bringing her arms down, he undid the cuffs and gently rubbed her wrists.

  “You okay, kitten?” He brushed his mouth over her inner wrists, kissing them softly.

  She nodded.

  “You’re being quiet.” He stared down at her, studying her as his hand cupped her face, his thumb stroking tenderly over her cheek. “Was it too much?”

  She shook her head. “I would have stopped you if it was. It was amazing.”

  He grinned and pressed a kiss to her mouth, his lips barely touching her. Then he shifted off her and wrapped his arms around her. He cuddled her close, spooning her from behind, his arm locked tight around her, and she felt his mouth at her ear.

  “You gave my name up way too easy, kitten.”

  She grinned and wiggled her ass into his crotch. “As if.”

  He tightened his arms around her, and she felt his dick hardening. She shifted and locked it between her legs, earning a groan from him.

  “You ready for round two already?” he growled in her ear.

  She giggled and protested in a whine, “I need sleep.”

  “Mmm. Me, too.”

  His hands encircled both her wrists, and he crossed her arms over her chest, holding her back pressed against his chest, locking her down tight and close.

  “Wolf, you’re squishing me.”

  “Shh, go to sleep, baby doll.”

  His body was like a furnace, and the heat of it soon relaxed her. She listened to him breathe. Four or five breaths in, his breathing changed and his muscles began to relax, his body settling deeply into the mattress. She felt his hold on her loosen as he drifted off.

  Wiggling, and twisting, she managed to turn in his arms and snuggled down into his chest, her face pressed into the curve of his neck. His arms tightened around her for a moment, and then he relaxed back into slumber. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, and she soon drifted off as well, secure in the warmth of his embrace, exactly where she wanted to be. Where she would always want to be.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Wolf stood staring down at Crystal as she slept. God she was beautiful, the early morning light casting her in soft shadows. His eyes moved over her body, exposed where she’d kicked off the sheet. He noticed the small bruises from the little nips he’d given her on her inner thigh. Perhaps he’d been too rough with her, but Crystal never complained. She seemed to enjoy their rough play as much as he did, to crave it almost as much as he did.

  He was tempted to wake her, but he didn’t. He thought about leaving her a note. Telling her how beautiful she was. Telling her he’d gotten called out. Club business. But he figured she’d know. She’d been around the club long enough to know that when the club called, the brothers answered the call. Always.

  So he didn’t wake her, and he didn’t leave a note. It was a decision he’d come to regret. Because if he’d known the events that would transpire, he would never have walked out that door.

  But he hadn’t known, so he bent and brushed a soft kiss on her forehead and whispered, “Love you, babe.”

  A kiss she never felt. A note she never saw. A sentiment she never heard.

  ****

  Crystal felt the warmth of the sun on her bare back as it poured in through the white sheers that covered her bedroom window. It felt delicious. For a moment she imagined herself lying on a beach in the sun. She shifted in the bed and immediately felt the aching soreness in her thighs, and memories of last night came flooding back.

  Wolf.

  Her eyes popped open, and she turned her head on the pillow, her arm reaching out, her hand finding only empty bed and cold sheets.

  “Wolf?” she called.

  Only silence replied.

  She lifted up, her eyes glancing around the room. Any trace of him was gone. As if he’d never been there at all. And she could have convinced herself it was all a dream if not for the aching soreness between her legs.

  And once again she felt the emptiness return, like it always did. That feeling of being used. Used and cast aside until the next time he needed to scratch his itch.

  She flung the sheet back and swung her legs out of bed. Picking up her cell phone from the nightstand, she checked it for any texts or missed calls from him. Nothing. Rising, she jerked on a short robe, jammed her phone in the pocket and headed toward the kitchen. After starting the coffee, she stood at the sink, staring out the window, her fingers drumming on the counter. It was times like this, when the agitation and pent up anger boiled through her, that she wished she still smoked.

  Yanking open the cabinet, she pulled down a mug. Coffee would have to do. Coffee and maybe a shot of Baileys. She lifted the carafe and filled her cup. As she retu
rned it to the burner, her phone rang. She dug it out of her pocket and looked at the screen. Angel.

  Pressing receive, she put it to her ear. “Hi.”

  “Morning, doll. What are you up to?”

  “Just got up. Working my way through my first cup of coffee,” Crystal replied, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she reached for the Baileys and unscrewed the cap to pour a hefty shot in her mug. “What’s up?”

  “We’re all over at Crash and Shannon’s. Since the boys left at the crack of dawn this morning, the girls decided to get together for some Bloody Marys. And they beat coffee any day, so get your butt over here.”

  “You and Shannon?”

  “Mary is here, too. Natalie’s watching the kids.”

  “I’ve got a bathroom to scour,” Crystal threw out the excuse.

  “Who are you? June Cleaver? It’s Saturday. Get your butt over here, now. You know with three kids I rarely get out,” Angel whined.

  Crystal heard Shannon in the background. “Is she coming over?”

  Angel’s voice replied, “She says she has a bathroom to scour.”

  Shannon yelled, loud enough for Crystal to hear, “I’ve got a bathroom she can scour.”

  “Did you hear that? Get over here,” Angel ordered into the phone.

  Crystal grinned and rolled her eyes. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be over soon.”

  ****

  Twenty minutes later, Crystal was pulling her car into the garage of Crash and Shannon’s warehouse style loft. Crash had converted an old two story brick warehouse in Oakland to a beautiful loft. On the outside it looked like an abandoned building, but on the inside the loft was cool as shit.

  Crystal got on the freight elevator and rode it up to the second floor loft. When she threw back the gated elevator door, she was greeted by Angel, who stood there with a big grin and held out a Bloody Mary complete with celery stalk to her.

  “Good Morning, Sunshine,” Angel greeted her.

  Crystal reached out, took the drink, chugged back a slug and replied, “What’s so good about it?”