by Amy Love
“Good girl,” he hissed as he pounded into her, a pleasurable tightening consuming her with every thrust. “Do you want to come?”
She nodded frantically, knowing he loved to watch her orgasm. Sometimes it happened. Sometimes it didn’t. Withholding her pleasure seemed to be something he enjoyed, too.
“Do you think you deserve to come?” Another enthusiastic nod, though she toned it down when his eyes narrowed. “Such a presumptuous slut.”
He tweaked a nipple, taking her harder as he leaned over her. She loved to be covered by him, to feel the weight of his body, never enough to feel crushing by any means, atop hers. It made her feel…safe.
One hand slipped under her body, traveling beneath her back as his hips continued to pound against hers, until it cupped the back of her neck.
“Do you remember your safe word?” Gryff whispered, his voice no more than a growl of want. She almost came on the spot. When Beth didn’t answer right away, he asked again, and she nodded, biting down on the cottony fabric in her mouth. His pace slowed suddenly, fucking her with long, deep thrusts, and he added, “You can still say it gagged like that. I’ll know what you’re saying.”
Her brow furrowed a little. Why was he telling her that? She hadn’t had to use their agreed upon safe word yet, and she had no plans to do so anytime soon. However, when his other hand crept up and wrapped around her throat, squeezing harder than expected, she gave a little whimper of understanding. They’d discussed breath play before, and while she had no interest in fading to black, Beth had said she was open to light choking—but only because at the time it seemed to make him happy.
But as his fist closed around her throat, the pleasure in her sex growing, she understood it. It made her more powerless in his grasp, more anxious in his hand. Beth loved it. Her eyes widened as her breathing became more labored, her arms and legs straining against their bonds.
“Come for me, my sweet sub,” Gryff whispered in her ear, grinding his pelvis over her clit, his cock buried deep inside. “Come for me, my perfect little slut.”
And she did. By God, did Beth ever come. Just as the pleasure ripped through her, Gryff removed his hand, letting her gasp down a much needed breath, and then he resumed his almost savage pace, taking her hard and fast, his arms wrapped around her.
It was the best orgasm so far—she actually saw stars, her body light and incredibly sensitive in the aftermath. And she would have never felt it without the trust, without the, dare she say it, love. She had every faith, every confidence, that Gryff would push her but keep her safe.
Tied beneath him, spread tight, his cock pounding into her, Beth acknowledged that this was precisely where she wanted to be.
***
She was perfect. He’d said so much while he urged her to come, though he couldn’t believe the words that had tumbled through his lips. He hadn’t meant to say something so intimate, but in the heat of the moment…
Well, in the heat of the moment Gryff had fucked up. Royally. He’d fucked up from the moment he let this relationship carry on after he found her snooping on his phone. At first he’d thought she was trying to figure out who he was, or worse, spying for her dad. However, it became clear that Beth was as innocent as they came, despite what she let him do to her in the bedroom, and at the time, she had been worried he had found someone else.
It should have told him that she was falling for him. Maybe he knew and just pretended not to, like some chicken shit too scared to break things off. All he knew was that he wanted her. He wanted to keep fucking her. She felt so good beneath him, so pliable and earnest and devoted. And here he was, investigating her dad for his motorcycle club, dragging her into his personal drama when she ought to steer clear.
She was too sweet for his life. Too good for the shit that he did. Too innocent to be tarnished by a fucker like him, and it pained him to think that. But how could he let her go? She’d just let him choke her as she came—and god damn, did she ever come. It was the best orgasm he’d ever seen her have, her little body trembling in its restraints, her face flushed and her eyes wide. He wanted to give her more, a dozen more tonight alone. He wanted to whisper awful things in her ear as he continued to fuck her, continued to make her more and more his plaything, his obedient submissive.
But he stopped dirty talking, stopped whispering. He buried his face in her neck and concentrated on finishing, the guilt a total mood killer. This wasn’t fair to her. He liked her too much as a person to bring her into his underworld. She belonged in the heavens, and it was by some miracle that Gryff found her here amongst the mortals on Earth.
He couldn’t drag her down to Hell with him.
It just wasn’t fair. To use her like this, as a means to satisfy his own dark desires, it wasn’t right. No matter how much she seemed to enjoy it, how much she basked in his actions, Gryff couldn’t deny the guilt bubbling up inside him.
He finished somewhat halfheartedly, his feverish thoughts getting the better of him. She’d let him choke her. She’d put her life in his hands, in that moment, with total trust and openness. Gryff was exploiting it for his own purposes, and it had to stop.
But how?
Easing out of her, he made quick work of the ropes, knowing she’d be sore, and helped her up. Once she’d used the bathroom, he beckoned her back and massaged her undoubtedly aching arms and legs, vowing that he would stop.
And if he couldn’t stop outright, he’d ease away. He had to.
Very seldom in this life did Gryff do what was “right”—but when it came to Beth, it was only fair that he tried.
Chapter 17
“Thank you very much,” the waitress said, snapping the menus up and cradling them to her chest. She looked quite smart in her pressed pants and crisp collared white shirt. “I’ll have your wine brought out in a moment, followed by the appetizers.”
“Thank you.” Beth tugged at her dress self-consciously, glad to be hidden beneath the table and in the somewhat darker booth. She could have dressed up a little more for the evening, but then again, Gryff was wearing jeans and t-shirt, so it wasn’t all bad. Nibbling her lower lip, she glanced across the table at her dinner date, a little upset to see that he was still wearing the same scowl he’d donned when she first told him instead of going back to her apartment for a night of rough and amazing sex, she’d made dinner reservations instead.
“This place is cheaper than I thought it’d be,” he noted after a long, somewhat tense moment. Beth let out a soft sigh when he leaned back against the clean leather backrest. It reflected the light of the candle in the middle of the table, the flame’s orange hue flickering on the matte surface.
“Thank you for agreeing to come,” she said, then swallowed hard. Her hands were wracked with a cold, nervous sweat, her stomach in so many knots that she was surprised she’d even ordered anything. The pasta dish sounded delicious in theory, but given the way she was feeling, there was no guarantee she’d have more than a few bites. “I wanted to go out tonight so we could talk.”
“And we can’t talk in your apartment?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone lacking its usual playfulness. Hell, it even lacked the authoritative quality that made her shiver, which wasn’t a good sign. Beth shook her head.
“I wanted it to be done…differently,” she told him, a slight tremor in her voice. “I wanted…I want us to be done differently.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his expression darkening. “Beth—”
“I know you don’t do relationships,” she said, adding air quotes around do for emphasis, “but things are changing between us and you can’t deny that. I care about you. A lot. And I think you care about me, too.”
She loved him, actually. Over these last few months, she’d fallen head-over-heels, but she refused to admit it aloud. Guys always joked about virgins getting attached, and she didn’t want Gryff to think that just because he was the first guy to sleep with her that she was clinging to him for dear life. She’d fallen for him, as a person,
with all the added baggage that she knew about him and his preferences. She owed it to herself to put her foot down again.
“Beth, I do care about you, but—”
“Then we’re going to explore this relationship,” Beth said firmly, leaving no room for arguments. He could walk away at any point, and while it would devastate her, the logical side of her brain knew that in the long run it would be better to be with a man who actually wanted to date her rather than just screw her a few nights a week. “We have a connection that I’ve never felt with anyone before, and it’s not because I was a virgin.”
She pressed her lips together, only realizing the waitress had reappeared with their wine just as she said virgin. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment, and she sat back in the booth, letting Gryff handle the sample testing, and waited until the wine was poured and the waitress had fled.
“So is this an ultimatum?” he asked, his tone light as he brought his wine glass to his lips and took a quick sip. The noise level in the restaurant had increased since they sat down some twenty minutes earlier, and she preferred it that way. Tucked away in their booth, she felt safe to talk to him, like no one else in the world could see or hear them.
“It’s not an ultimatum,” Beth told him. “It’s a conversation about what I want and what I think you would like if you gave it a chance. You can of course walk away. I’m not going to force you to be with me.”
“You’d never have to do that…” He set the wine glass down and sighed heavily again, his eyes everywhere but her face. “Beth, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“And I want to learn it. All of it.” Something swelled within her chest suddenly—something like hope. “I don’t care what it is. I want you just as you are.”
“You should care,” he muttered, then clenched his teeth so his jaw flared for a moment. “It may not be what you want once you learn.”
“Then I’ll decide that then.” She reached across the table and grabbed his arm, latching her hand to it before he could pull it away. “Please.” Their eyes met. “Just let me decide for myself. I…” Swallowing hard, she quieted herself, refusing to let the L-word slip. “We’re basically in a relationship now, whether you want to label it or not. All I’m asking is that we both acknowledge it and start moving forward.”
He was quiet for a long while after that, perhaps lost in thought, perhaps trying to find the words to shoot her down. While he was silent, Beth waited, not prodding or pushing. Playing on her phone, actually, just to give him the privacy he needed. By the time their appetizer arrived—spinach dip with grilled flatbread—he grabbed her hand and wrapped both of his around it.
“Fine,” Gryff said, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Let’s…try something. I do care for you, and I don’t want to let you go, but we have to move slowly.”
“Whatever pace you’re comfortable with,” she insisted, nodding her head, unable to keep the silly grin on her face. Without another word, they both leaned across the table and shared a quick, hard kiss, then dug into the start of their meal, moving on from the conversation seamlessly.
All the while, at the back of Beth’s mind, she couldn’t help but feel like this was where their love story finally began.
Chapter 18
“Did you enjoy your meal tonight, sir?”
He glanced at the hostess, wrapped in his black leather jacket and sticking out like a sore thumb at the upscale establishment where Beth had wanted to eat. Of course, she would have chosen to eat there without a thought. Daddy probably brought her here all the time.
Dirty Daddy who might very well be involved in the murder of some of Gryff’s motorcycle club brothers.
“It was delicious, yes,” he offered, his tone clipped, then turned away as he waited for Beth to join him. She’d excused herself to use the bathroom before they left, perhaps sensing that he planned to fuck her senseless in the car before he dropped her off at her apartment. He shouldn’t—it only encouraged her feelings for him, but he couldn’t help himself. Gryff wanted her. Desired her. Cared for her.
It wasn’t love, but it was…something. And because of that, he knew he should have just walked away. Hit the road and never looked back. Beth deserved better than someone who very well might knock her dad’s teeth out, but Gryff had opted to be selfish. When she’d asked him to move forward with the relationship before the appetizer arrived, his first instinct was to say no, to let her off the hook and cast her back into the ocean. She’d find a sweet vanilla guy, or maybe one her dad’s Ivy League asshole friends had a son she could be set up with one day. Whatever happened, whomever she ended up with, it would be better than getting in deeper with Gryff.
But he’d let her. In agreeing to her request, he’d pulled her further into the shit-storm that was his life. He’d attached to her like an anchor, and he was going to make her drown as he dragged her down.
And, even though he knew he’d hate himself, Gryff planned to enjoy every second of it.
She returned to him quickly enough, floating to his side obediently and smiling. Unable to help himself, he kissed her, right then and there, in full view of all the snobby patrons. Maybe someone would recognize her and tip off her dad that she was canoodling with a ruffian, with a fucking degenerate. But still she smiled, even as he pulled away, totally unfazed that he’d claimed her for all to see.
So, he tucked her under his arm, his little angel, his little slut, and led her out into the winter darkness, a night of depravity ahead of them.
And Gryff was going to enjoy every damn second of it.
Right until the world around him burned.
Chapter 19
Just as he was about to take a sip of his whiskey, Gryff Reeves felt the vibration in his pocket. Without digging his phone out, he knew who was calling. Everyone else he knew was here, at the bar owned by the Steel Phoenix Motorcycle Club. Drinking for free, like the rest of the owners did, he’d been on the same barstool for a few hours, fully knowing he’d missed the start of his date with Beth. It was her calling now, just as it was the last two times. He felt like the world’s biggest piece of shit for ignoring her, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. All his excuses were starting to sound fake, even to his ears, and he didn’t have the heart to answer and tell her he wasn’t coming tonight.
Ignoring her just seemed easier. It’s what he’d done with women for years now—ignore them until they went away. Only the women in his past didn’t make him feel quite as shitty as Beth did when he blew them off. It wasn’t that she did anything in particular. She wasn’t the kind to guilt trip him. Like any good sub, she bounced back fast, looking for new and better ways to please her Master. But it was the look in her eye. The fleeting sadness that somehow managed to tug at his heartstrings. They’d only been “dating”—if one could call it that—for a few weeks now, and even though Gryff didn’t love her, he cared for her.
He cared that he was hurting her. No one else knew about the extent of his feelings for her. The guys in the MC knew he was fucking a girl on campus, and a select few knew it was the dean’s daughter, but they thought it was casual, like all of Gryff’s relationships. Very seldom did he take things to the point where they were now. His lifestyle didn’t exactly lend much time to romance and dates—especially now, when he had a perp to find and gut over the deaths of his fellow bikers in the club.
There’d been no more deaths since the last one, but the delivery crews had said they felt like they were being followed. One was even almost run off the road by a non-descript van with fake license plates. Gryff was getting closer to finding the man responsible for all the chaos inside the club. Unfortunately, more and more signs pointed to Beth’s father, Dean Darryl Truman. Gryff’s intel was finally falling into place. Leads were starting to make sense. Signs were pointing to the most powerful man at Blackwoods University.
And Gryff was fucking his daughter.
And actually caring about her in the meantime.
Agreeing to dat
e her had been a mistake. It had been selfish and cruel to drag her into his world, and he knew now, as he got closer and closer to pinning things on a member of the dean’s staff, very likely the dean himself, he was on the path to hurting Beth. Devastating her. She didn’t deserve that. She was a good girl who clearly felt strongly about him. She did as she was told and seemed to love every second of it—and he couldn’t stand the thought of shattering her world. He had to break things off. It would be easier for everyone if he went after the dean without being in love with his daughter, and vice versa.
How much fucking therapy would Beth need if she learned that the man she’d fallen for savagely attacked her dad, who, before that, was ordering hits on a local biker gang and stealing cash and coke?
Again, she didn’t deserve that kind of shit storm. She ought to just finish law school, even if it wasn’t her thing, graduate, and find a good guy who could take care of her.
