Don’t You Dare: A Bad Boy MMA Fighter Romance

by Claire St. Rose

  “No,” she whispered, even though something inside of her was curling up in surprise and shock. They’d had so many different encounters in so many different places. Why was she blanching at him seeing her in the well-lit bedroom?

  He skimmed her panties down over her hips, and she sighed slightly. Having her ass presented to him like this seemed like something out of a porn flick, especially as he started running his hands over her curves. “I love this,” he said. “I love seeing you all splayed out in front of me like this. You okay?”

  “Yes,” Ali said, even though her cheeks were bright red and flaming hot. “Don’t you want me to take off the corset?”

  He laughed. “Not at all. Seeing you, all tied up like this, seeing your tits all bound up—hot as hell, baby. I want to fuck you from here, see you come all shaking and shuddering, see your tits bouncing, about to fall right out of the cups of that thing.” His thumb parted her lips and slid easily into her aching wetness, brightening a darkness she hadn’t even known was in her heart until that moment. She groaned and drove herself back onto his hand, whimpering as he took it away from her again, chuckling. “Remember, baby, you’re the one who said we had to be quiet. Can I trust you?”

  She was quiet, gasping, aching. He squeezed one side of her ass, almost pinching, and she whimpered again, but she choked the sound off by pressing her face into the mattress.

  “Can I trust you, Ali? Can I trust you to be quiet?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Good,” he said. And then the tip of him pressed into her, hot and wet and eager, and she grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, smashing her face into it to muffle the groans that she couldn’t contain. She was soaked and eager, but his thumb had done nothing to open her up, so he moved forward in slow, soft, smooth strokes that drove her totally insane.

  “I have a question for you,” he said quietly, his tone doing nothing to betray that he was buried to the hilt inside of her body, sparking a series of urgent sensations that she was quite sure were going to make her scream before she was done.

  “Ask,” she gasped.

  “Did Bobby ever take you like this? With the lights on, with his pretty little Texas Rose bent over, her ass in his face, pretty as you please?” She felt his thumb, higher than her entrance, tracing around the puckered center of her ass. She stifled another groan at the same time that her cheeks got even redder.

  “No,” she whispered. “No, he was— no.”

  “Do you want me to?” His tone was still completely conversational, at total odds with the pace of his cock, driving into her, splitting her apart. “Do you want me to call you a dirty slut, make you mine, even if it’s just for now, just for while we’re in this bed?”

  This was a side of her Alejandro that she had never seen before, and she was more than a little worried that she was going to set the bed on fire from the blood scorching her face, but she nodded. God help her, she nodded. “Okay,” she said.

  His hips sped up, and she had to choke back the groans as the sensations swirled, faster and harder. He leaned forward, one hand still balancing on her hips, the other finding the tip of her breast where it was barely contained within the cups of her corset, as he’d predicted. He savaged it with his fingers while he whispered to her. “God, you want it, you want it so much, my thick cock buried in you. You’re going to come just like this, I know you are, and I’m going to feel you tight and hot around me, and I’m going to love it. And you’re not going to make a sound, because you don’t want your friend to know what we’re doing, what I’m doing to you. You don’t want her to know I have you bent over like this, begging to be fucked, begging to have me bury in you just— a little— farther—”

  The orgasm came out of nowhere, slamming into her like a runaway horse. Silence wasn’t an option, so she buried her face in the pillow and gritted her teeth on the sound, swallowing it as best as she could. She felt her body clenching around Alejandro’s dick, heard him grunt and felt his hands shake as he fought to control himself.

  She started to come down, swirling into the mattress, going limp, and was surprised at the sharp feeling of his hand slapping her ass. “You’re not done yet,” he said, and she chuckled.

  “There were fireworks,” she said. “Did you miss it?”

  “No,” he replied, his voice harsh and ragged. “I felt your pussy milking at me, I felt you grinding into me, I felt you lose control. But you always give up after one, and baby, I’m telling you—I know there’s more in you.”

  “I’m fine, Alejandro, I promise,” she said, though there was a little jump of electricity in her clit at his words.

  He laughed, a dark sound that surprised her, and she felt her body tighten around him. He swallowed another groan. “See? There’s more here. How about you play with yourself for me?”

  “I— what?”

  “I know you’ve done that before. I remember watching you, that one time in my truck, when we were kids?” His hips slammed into her fast and hard for a minute before he found his steady rhythm again. “That was gorgeous, baby. Do it for me again. In your sexy corset, while I’m fucking you, I want you to touch yourself.”

  She sighed, biting her lip for a moment. She wanted to give him what he was asking for, but that want was warring against a lifetime of training about what Good Girls did. And she’d been a good girl for so long, it was hard to be— wanton. “I’ll try,” she said, finally. “If I don’t want to, I’ll say and I’ll stop.”

  She felt him collapse over her for just a moment, his arms embracing her. “You sure, baby? I’m not trying to force anything.”

  “I’ll try,” she said. It took a moment to arrange herself; she finally folded her left arm above her head, to raise her face and her chest out of the mattress just a bit, and then slipped her right hand back between her thighs. She couldn’t quite get her fingers where she wanted them. She let her thighs stretch just a little wider, and from the choked response from Alejandro, whatever she’d done felt great to him. And now she could touch her clit, that electric nub that she’d found often enough after Bobby had rolled over and gone to sleep, or when she needed a quick and hard orgasm on her own. But it had never felt quite like it emptied the reserve tank, just took the pressure off so she could inhale a little easier.

  Sliding her finger over that taut nubbin felt completely different with his cock stretching her out so far. Tighter, tenser, more sensitive. She gasped, finding her usual pressure too gentle, and her usual rhythm way too fast.

  “Feel good, Texas Rose?” His voice was tighter behind her, his fingers digging harder into her hips. “Does it feel good to follow instructions?”

  “Yes,” she gasped. She could feel the pressure building in her belly, but it wasn’t quite there—she needed something more, something deeper.

  And then she felt his thumb swirling through the wetness that was spilling out of her, and then pressing gently at the puckered opening of her ass. “Want this?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said again, desperate for something, anything that would drive her over the edge. The orgasm on the other side of the wall in her body was huge, oceanic, and it would swell up and surge through her and steal her mind away if she could just cross over to it.

  There was a steady sense of pressure, and she relaxed against it, letting him gently spread her body open, sliding the one digit slowly into her ass. Her mouth gaped open, the sensations too intense to be expressed in sound, and even though her eyes were wide, she couldn’t see. She wanted to see Alejandro’s face, to see if he was biting his lip, trying desperately to fight back his own swelling need. His hand on her hip was so tight she was sure it would bruise, and he was slamming into her now, fast and demanding, and his thumb was starting to move in a slow rhythm, and she was full, completely full, she’d never been so full, so debased, so nakedly open in front of anyone.

  “Baby,” he whispered, and the threads of need were choking him, she could hear it. “Baby, please.”


  The wall came crashing down, exploding over her in all of its white-capped glory. She writhed with it, driving herself back into him, letting him split her open as she burst again and again. She felt him release, yanking her hips back into him so hard that it wanted to hurt, but danced just the slightest sliver away from actual pain. As the aftershocks washed over her, she was clutching the pillow to her face again to bury her cries.

  Alejandro was totally silent as he tumbled down to the bed with her, wrapping her gently in his arms and placing delicate kisses on her neck.

  CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

  When she woke up, the bed was empty next to her. Ali stretched, feeling the soft ache in her thighs and belly from their strenuous love-making the night before. By the way the sun cut in the window, she was pretty sure she’d overslept. Tip would be rattling at his feedbox by now. But Alejandro was standing in the window, the sunlight playing over the plains and seams of his incredibly cut body, and his skin shone like burnished gold, his tattoos standing out like shadows over his heart and arms. She slipped out of bed and padded over to him, naked, wrapping her arms around his abdomen.

  He didn’t respond right away. His arms were folded, strong and hard, over his midsection, and she could feel tension vibrating through him, turning him into a live wire. She knew this mood of his. If she wasn’t careful, it’d be her that got snapped by his electric fury. “Couldn’t sleep?” She kept her voice light, soft, easy.

  He shook his head. “I heard something in the night. It sounded like a gunshot. I cleared both floors, but after that? No. No more sleep for me.”

  She felt her brow tighten and forced herself to smooth it out. Letting her worry vibrate down into her voice would be the wrong way to manage him just now. “How long have you been standing here?”

  He shrugged, a smooth motion that told her he didn’t know and didn’t care. That he’d stand there as long as it took.

  “Do you understand what I have to do?” he asked, after a long time.

  She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. It tightened his body still further, and she hated that. She stepped away from him and sat on the edge of the bed. She wanted to wrap herself in a sheet, hide away from him, but she had an idea how that would go. It wasn’t what she wanted, not deep down. Not where it mattered. “You have to pay them back, I imagine.”

  His eyes were bright with rage when he turned back to her. “This isn’t some schoolyard squabble, Ali. There’s no teacher I can go to, no authority figure who will make the Diablos back down. I’m all the Padres have, and they matter to me.”

  “Sheriff Hennesy?”

  He snorted. “The Diablos are supplying him with underage girls now. He’ll do anything they want. He’s useless to me.”

  “They— Excuse me, now, they’re doing what?”

  “You heard me,” he said. “There’s a reason we come through Arroyo Flats. It’s not just the scenery.” His eyes flashed down to her breasts, and she suspected that his gaze was lingering on the rather lurid bruise he’d left just under her left nipple. A smile broke through his control, for just a moment. “Though I must admit, the scenery is gorgeous.”

  “Okay. We’ll deal with what the hell the Sheriff thinks he can get away with later. What are you going to do to deal with the Diablos?”

  He opened his mouth, started to speak, and then shook his head violently. “No, Ali. No. You’re not part of the war council.”

  “Why not? Because I’m not your ‘old lady’?”

  “No.”

  “Because I’m a girl?”

  “No!” His hands came down on her arms, hard, incredibly hard, and she was afraid then, afraid all the way down through her heart. Not because she thought he would hurt her—she was sure he’d never hurt her on purpose, but anything that provoked this intense of a reaction from him made her afraid. Petrified. Scared, through and through. “Don’t you get it, Ali? I’m trying to protect you because I love you. Because I want you— I need you to be safe. I can’t go without you again, baby, it broke my heart so badly that I thought that carving it out with a tattoo needle would hurt less.”

  She wanted to run, to hide, to give in, but she took a deep breath. She brought her hands up to cup his cheeks, staring into his eyes. She could feel tears sliding down her face, and she let them fall as they might. “I know. Baby, I know. I understand. This isn’t something I want to be involved in. It’s nothing I ever wanted, but you knew it last night. They know where I live. They know they can get to me through you. Whether we like it or not, I’m a part of this now. I’m not safe, and because I’m not safe, I have to be ready. I have to plan, I have to help you fix this. Because I can’t sit back and knit and wait for the menfolk to make it all better. I’ve never done it in my life, and I won’t start now.”

  He tried to pull back, pull away, and she moved with him, standing, following him. “And what happens next?” he asked. “We deal with the Diablos, and then the Padres leave town, and— What? I give up everything I know and love to stay here with you? You abandon your grandmother’s ranch and your dream of a business to follow me? Neither one of us want that.”

  “There’s a solution,” she said. “We’ll find it. If we don’t give up on each other.”

  She waited while he teetered in the balance. She watched as he warred with himself, as he fought between what he thought was right, and what he wanted. Right had won before, over and over. She saw the moment when the balance tipped her way. “Fuck it all,” he murmured, and his hands on her arms were pushing her back onto the bed, savagely pressing her down into the mattress. He was hard in moments, and his fingers were between her legs. She cried out at his roughness, and he paused, searching her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” she said, spreading her thighs just a little wider. “It’s okay.”

  He spared a moment to open her with his fingers, and then he was surging into her. She was wet, but not soaked, and he seemed to recognize it with just a corner of his mind. He pressed forward as far as he could, slipped back, and then pressed forward again, moving deeper. She moved her hips with him, giving over to him, letting him set the rhythm. She trusted him, she trusted him not to hurt her, or to stop if she said. That fine edge of pain, that sense of knowing that he was taking her, ready or not, was thrilling through her fingertips.

  Fully sheathed inside of her, he reached down, planting his hands on her ass and angling her hips up. His movements were hard, rapid, almost jerking. He made a sound, again and again, and it took her a moment to understand his words. Or word, really. “Mine,” he said, again and again as he slammed into her. “Mine. Mine.”

  “Yours,” she said, and on a whim, dug her fingernails fiercely into his shoulders.

  He came in a rush, so fast and hard she wasn’t even sure that he knew it was going to happen. He roared with it, a vicious, needy howl as he pushed himself just a little bit deeper into her with every pulse of his body. It had been only a few minutes since he’d entered her.

  She held him, rocking him softly, and he panted into her skin. When he could speak, he said only, “Sorry, mi amor. I didn’t mean that to be quite so… abrupt.”

  Ali felt her heart still beneath the words. She didn’t know if he realized he’d said them, and it wasn’t the moment to make him pause, to make him explain. “It’s all right,” she said. “I pushed you to go faster.”

  “Mmm,” he murmured against her skin, planting a delicate kiss on her collarbone. “You didn’t seem to complain in the moment, that’s true.”

  Another kiss, slightly slower, and she sighed, shifting gently. Her clit was still thrumming with the electric shock of him taking her so roughly, and the sudden switch to the silk and satin of his lips moving over her skin was a delicious tease.

  “It just didn’t seem like you quite got everything you wanted from that moment,” he said.

  His tongue traced a path down the curve of her breast, finding the crease underneath where it met her chest, and she shifted harder. His naked thigh came b
etween her legs and pressed into her, and she gasped, surprised at the urgent need to thrust down onto him again. He raised an eyebrow and muttered something in Spanish again, then laughed at himself.

  “Still hungry?” he asked. His tongue made an agonizingly heated trip up the swell of her breast until he could flick just the tip of it against her nipple, which rose eagerly into his mouth.