Filthy Daddy (Satan's Saints MC #2)

by Bella Love-Wins

  All she does is stare at me.

  “Don’t worry about him anymore. I’m here and he may not live to see another day if he shows up here again.”

  She moves her right hand out from under the ice pack and puts it on my shoulder. “Okay. Thanks… and there’s nothing more to tell. I promise.”

  “Okay.” I smile and move my lips to her ear. “You know, there’s no better way to take your mind off of this than me putting my hands all over you…and my mouth. Trust me, Moll, I’ll keep you safe…all night long…”

  I growl, jerking her forward against me and lower my mouth to her exposed collarbone.

  A sigh slips from between her lips as I kiss a spot. She wraps her arms around my chest, sliding her hands down over my spine. When they get to the hem of my t-shirt, she slides her fingers underneath. “God, you’re corny, but I like that you’re also one horny pain in the ass,” she moans.

  “A pain in the ass that you can never resist.”

  “We shouldn’t be doing this, you conniving bastard.”

  “You’re right. We shouldn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need it.” I run my teeth along the lobe of her ear then suck the tender flesh between my lips. Then I pull away as I remember something. “You’re not expecting your old lady anytime soon are you?”

  “Not for a few hours.”

  “Good. Now be a good shoplifter and enjoy your Miranda rights, like the right to remain silent while I peruse the hell out of your goods.” My palms reach under her and soon I’m cupping handfuls of her ass. As I pull her to me again, her legs instinctively wrap around my waist. Getting to my feet, I carry her toward the kitchen. She loves it when I fuck her in there. Something about the light that floods into that room from the back of the house.

  I love it too.

  Chapter 4

  Tate

  I notice Molly checking out the kitchen fridge as I rest her ass down on a wooden bar stool.

  “Oh, does the bad girl jail cell come with ice cream?” she asks, humming as she waits for me to answer the question.

  I put my index finger over her mouth. “Hush. Until I say otherwise you’re under my jurisdiction, Miss. You don’t talk or move an inch unless I tell you, understand?”

  Her lips part with a soft, sultry smack as her eyes meet mine. Inch by fucking inch, I'll own that mouth.

  She nods her agreement.

  “It’s not every day that I apprehend a saucy minx making off with all this merchandise. Punishing you will be a real pleasure.”

  Molly mimes zipping her lips, and tries to wriggle her way out of my grasp. I notice she can’t keep that creeping grin off her face. As much as she play-protests, she enjoys our little adventures into role-playing territory more than most. This particular time is the perfect opportunity to get her mind off her troubles while allowing me to work off all the sexual frustration Molly has a way of setting off in me. My dick can’t get enough of her.

  “We’re going to start your interrogation, and I need you to stay on that bar stool while I go fetch my backup. And by backup, I mean all those toys you have up in your bedroom. If I find any signs that you’ve moved even an inch while I’m gone, I’ll make sure your punishment is that much more…severe. Got it, little lady?”

  She gives me one sure head nod and I leave. I get to the hallway outside the kitchen and am halfway to the staircase to her bedroom when I remember something. Spinning around again, I return to her. “Get these clothes off, and don’t think I’ll miss checking out all your dark, sweet hiding places, doll. I plan to be thorough.”

  Molly’s pale cheeks flush and she quickly gets to work. I see her tank top go flying across the kitchen counter from the corner of my eye and I smile, hustling out of the room. Upstairs, I walk into her massive bedroom, set on the far side of the house where no one can hear us. Molly’s not just a kink hobbyist, she’s all in, with a section of her walk-in closet devoted to her exquisite collections of costumes, lingerie, and sex toys. A smile lifts my lips as I look around the closet for her favorites, then return to the kitchen with everything I think I’ll need.

  She’s seductively perched on the stool, completely bare, with her long hair flowing down past her shoulders, pert nipples tight with need and legs spread wide. I can just catch the subtle sheen of her arousal along her clean shaven pussy lips.

  “Fuck,” I breathe out and drop everything in my arms on top of the kitchen’s center island counter so I can get started on ravishing her right fucking now. “Good girl. It means I’ll be a little more lenient…but not by much.”

  A question flickers in her eyes.

  “You want my permission to speak. Don’t you, wicked girl?” She nods. “Go ahead.”

  “Will I get to keep anything I took, officer badass? I did purchase some of those items, and they weren’t cheap.”

  Keeping my excitement hidden, at least from my face, I turn toward the kitchen counter and evaluate which of her props I’ll start with. I snatch up a couple of tried and true items, setting them down out of her line of sight. “I don’t think that question helps your case, Miss. Put your hands behind your back and link your fingers together—” As the words spill from my lips, I remember the bruise that her fucker of an ex-boyfriend left on her wrist. “Shit. We can’t use the handcuffs while your wrist is already messed up.”

  She links her fingers behind her neck instead. “It’s all right. I’ll keep them up here.”

  Fuck. The woman is absolutely hot like that, sitting with her hands raised behind her head, with her already perky breasts lifted even higher, begging to be touched. This woman has a way of giving me a thrill, stripping away my self-control, and just like all the times before, makes my cock throb in my pants.

  I need inside her something fierce.

  I step around behind her and she glances over her bare shoulder, all wide-eyed and pouty. I’m planning to enjoy every moment of making her wait, even if it’s pure torture for me. I move behind her and kiss her smooth pale skin beside the spot on her wrist I just bandaged up.

  It makes me mad all over again. “That asshole of an ex is going to pay for hurting you like this.”

  Molly turns in the chair and wraps her arms around my neck. “It’s fine, and I know you will. I’m counting on it. Come on, forget about it. Our game is actually helping.” She pulls back and gives me a soft kiss on the tip of my nose, and then she winks at me while her hands stray downward. They stop on my fly and she slide my zipper down, down, down.

  “But officer,” she purrs. “Aren’t you supposed to read me my rights?”

  Her cute, sexy moves bring me around. “Fine. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can be used against you as I’m ramming my cock down your throat…” I continue with the fake oath, loving the feigned expression of disbelief and fear on her face while I toss the handcuffs aside. “I seriously can’t use those with the way your wrist is bandaged up now. I should, in case you’re a runner, but today I won’t. You’d better be good. You’ve got some serious charges racked up against you, and you’re going to need to pay for every…single…one.”

  I slither a silky rope along her naked shoulders and dangle it between her breasts. As she shudders from the teasing contact, I not so casually push my hips forward. She wraps a palm around my shaft. It’s beyond hard now, veins bulging, threatening to expand that much more form her touch. I hiss through my teeth. Fuck, her touch is intoxicating.

  “Enough of that, doll,” I mutter halfheartedly because it feels so fucking good. “That ain’t how we play this game.”

  I start to move away, but she tightens her fingers and begins to pump my shaft. Pushing her hair to the side, I bite the tender spot on her neck that she loves. Molly promptly releases me and lets out a small whimper. I know that sound really well. It’s the sound of surrender.

  Pulling away, my gaze is drawn to the slightly red mark I just gave her on her neck. I notice the goosebumps all along her shoulders and down her arms
. “Remember that I know what you like and I’m not afraid to use it against you.”

  She sucks in a stuttered gasp and I chuckle, blowing cool air against the bite mark while she tries unsuccessfully to muffle the sounds of her desire. No doubt she’s trying to keep me from noticing. Fat chance. I know her body well, and delight in every one of her vocal responses to me now, just like every time we get between the sheets. I graze callused fingers down her spine and look over her shoulder, watching her whole body react to my touch.

  “Listen, doll. I’ll make an exception this time. I’ll tell you exactly what I have planned for you, but I’m not going to give it all to you tonight.” I drag my finger along the stiff line of her right shoulder and watch goosebumps prick up in its wake. “It’s extra punishment for being so naughty. Isn’t it, naughty girl?”

  “Yes…Sir.”

  Her breathy reply does things to my cock that no one else can ever whip out of me.

  “Good,” I clear my throat and hold on to my self-control. If I don’t, I’ll be buried deep in her wet heat any second now. That’s not what I want. At least not this second. I learned a long time ago that that drawing out every ounce of pleasure will make our time together that much better. It’s what we both crave. Delayed gratification.

  “Where were we? Ahhh, yes. Keep your ankles in line with the stool legs. And don’t move an inch.”

  Molly does as she’s told, and quickly too. I make quick work of tying each ankle to separate legs of the bar stool. Molly doesn’t struggle, but as I look up at her, her chest rises and falls. Her breathing picks up with every knot I secure loosely against her creamy soft skin. I’m not nearly as rough as she usually likes it. This isn’t anywhere close to the tip of the iceberg with regards to our kink, but something tells me our usual stuff isn’t right at a time like this. She may not care for me to know it, but she’s still traumatized by that visit from her ex. Still, it’s nice to be in familiar territory.

  I rearrange my achingly hard cock, mentally promising myself soon.

  But first, the game.

  I take in all of Molly—naked, vulnerable, and trembling, with her hands back behind her neck. I can’t help how much I’m enjoying her. Even something as small as my darkening spot on her neck from my teeth is enough for me to want to take her harder than ever before. That’s the reaction Molly always brings out in me, a craving for the sadist in me to come out and play, to let the rest of the world fade so I can just be free to do as I please with no regret.

  Not one inch of me can deny taking Molly. If possible, I’ll have her for round two before taking her to the clubhouse. With a shake of my head, I push the thought away. I zero in on my prey, aware of her sweet, wet scent. Damn, she’s dripping for me. I bend forward, my lips hovering less than an inch away from her ear as my hot, predatory breath caresses her earlobe.

  “If this were your usual punishment, bad girl, I’d make your nipples ache with these clamps, and then I’d make you red all over with this riding crop.” She squirms a bit, and I know I have her, remembering that the crop drives her out of her mind. “Then, when you couldn’t take any more, I’d break out the vibrator and make you come hard… but none of that’s gonna happen. This time, it’s these hands, this tongue, and what I’m packing between my legs that’ll make you scream my name.”

  “Tate…” her small whisper tests my resistance. My cock pulses at my open zipper. I have to clench my hands into painful fists.

  Fuck, I didn’t think it was possible to get any harder, yet I manage to do so, and it drives me out of my ever-loving mind. I swallow thickly. “I didn’t give you permission to speak again, did I?”

  She shakes her head, thick dark hair bouncing around her shoulders as I go around the island and grab the nipple clamps. I make as if I’m putting them on her stiff little pink nipples, then toss them aside. She might want to feel a measure of pain, but this is one time I can’t take it that far. I won’t. Molly’s been through enough today in the real world. But God, she’s begging for it. She licks her lips and gasps, eyes round, and only half-focused as she parts her legs wider, imploring me without words.

  My gaze dives to her wet pussy. Fuck yeah, that’s all mine, no doubt about it.

  Mine.

  I look up at her, quickly dismissing the thought. Sure, she’s mine for the moment, in our roleplay, but nothing more than that.

  Not even close, I tell myself, but my gut doesn’t agree. Need stirs, shutting out all rational thought. I’m itching to say something reckless. To tell her she’s been mine since the second I laid eyes on her. To claim her outright.

  But I can’t.

  Death to love.

  Those are the words written over my heart in the most permanent way possible.

  In ink.

  My tattoo reminds me that this heart beating in my chest is not meant to tangle with emotions.

  It serves one purpose.

  It beats to give me life.

  Nothing more.

  Ignoring the urges that tingle at the tip of my tongue, I close my eyes and slip both hands on either side of Molly’s head, touching our foreheads together. Her eyes search my face, brows furrowed when I meet her eyes again.

  Fuck, I’m addicted to this woman. But I don’t care to show that side of me. Not at a time like this. Not ever. Molly doesn’t need to see me vulnerable or needy. It’s not sexy. Not even a little bit.

  I search for some distraction to pull me far from this intense moment, and reach for the riding crop. My fingers skim the well worked craftsmanship of the leather. I glide the tool through my palm, giving it a nice whack that leaves the spot near my fingers rosy and slightly stinging. The noise cracks through the air when I do it again. I watch the line of Molly’s back curve as she reacts to the sound. She arches as though I’ve hit her with it, but it’s nowhere near her. She shivers along her arms and tries to move her legs. As she realizes that her ankles are bound to the stool legs, her eyes close and she bites her lip, twisting and writhing her upper body in anticipation of pleasure and pain.

  I shake my head when she pleads for me to use the crop on her back. A small whimper comes from her tempting lips with my next strike into my own palm.

  “I’m going to fucking enjoy denying you of all this. Fuck, do you even realize how hot you are when you beg this much?” I chuckle, teasing her as I slowly slide the leather handle of the crop down her back in light strokes. Molly keeps begging for me to at least let her have one sharp sting to her shoulder blade or lower back. “No dice. Next time, think twice about making rash decisions like keeping important shit from me.”

  “Baby, we’re not playing anymore, are we?” she asks.

  I pull back slightly. Learning about her ex has really killed the tone of our play time. All I want to do is find the idiot and make him pay so I can get back to enjoying her.

  “Maybe it’s not the same game, but let this denial be a lesson.”

  She idly lowers one hand and strokes my cock, using her other hand to push aside the fabric of my jeans as far as they’ll go. I’m done holding back. Crushing my lips onto hers, I kiss her urgently then pull away, leaving her breathless and trembling. She looks up at me with a heady mixture of stubbornness and arousal. The line of her mouth dares me. Her wide eyes beg me to get her off so the teasing can be over. I step back and plant my feet wide. Her stare immediately zeros in on my groin.

  “You want it that bad, don’t you?” I tease, my throat tight as I trace the end of the riding crop along her slick folds. “You need me inside of you so much I’m half-tempted to make you keep begging for it.”

  Indecision flickers across her face. I slide the crop up past her toned stomach and across her right breast. She hisses out a few choice words. She’s writhing in her seat, using the little bit of wiggle room I’ve given her around her ankles. Another slight touch against her breasts and her hand wanders down to her pussy. She’s reached her boiling point. A nice little spot, somewhere between brimming over with need and
so close to her peak, I swear I can taste it in the air. She’s beyond ready, unable to handle not getting what she wants most in the world.

  The sweet, sweet power is all in my hands—exactly the way I enjoy it best.

  I drop the crop, take two steps forward and bury my hands in her hair. Molly sucks in a breath as I tilt her head backward to meet my hopefully sobering gaze.

  “Don’t ever hide shit like this from me again,” I order her.

  She just stares into my eyes.

  “You want me.” I don’t make it a question. “You. Need. Me.”

  She licks her lips, nostrils flaring. I can tell that she’s itching to deny what I know is the truth. I know Molly too well. She’ll fight me tooth and nail right to the bitter end. But that all stops when I’m buried deep inside her and she’s screaming my name. Only then will she admit that I have any power over her.

  The same way she has her own brand of power over me.

  “Answer me.” I lean in, lightly tracing her lips with my tongue. “Part those pretty lips and confess. I want to hear it or I won’t let you come.”

  Molly jostles in her seat despite my light grip on her hair. She nods but doesn’t say a word.

  “You never make it easy. Oh well, more fun for me.”

  I let go of her again and take three long steps to the counter. Picking up her favorite vibrator, I press a button on the side with my thumb and return to her, delighting in her series of moans from the buzzing noise before I even make a move to touch her.

  “One way or another, you’ll tell me what I want to hear.”

  “You’re playing dirty. No fair,” Molly replies breathily.

  She sounds as though she can’t think straight anymore. Her eyes narrow, lips parting while I hone in on her sweet spot with the vibrator. I see her flinch before it makes contact with her clit, and as I rest it lightly on her hood, she spreads farther apart. Her face is awash with abandon as she grinds her hips into it, trying to control how and where the toy lands. That’s not happening. I let her settle into a rhythm, relishing the way she rolls her hips and the way her moans become louder, filling the air as she finds her own pleasure.