A break from getting my cock wet was needed to clear my head in the process, but I guess I’m moving on when I glance at the woman before me while I cup myself. I give my jeans covered cock a good squeeze and know for damn sure I need release, and I need it right fucking now.
And not by my own fucking hand either. Her. Kinsey. She’s the reason I’m painfully hard, so she’ll be the one taking my cum. I head for the bathroom while getting rid of my clothes along the way. A quick shower and I’m sliding squeaky-fucking-clean, and naked between the sheets.
Kinsey’s got her head on one pillow and she’s got the other one in a tight grip between her legs and tits. Gripping the pillow, I easily slide it away from her tits, and place it behind my head. Kinsey groans and instinctively reaches out but instead of the pillow, I’m now laying in the same space.
Her leg slides over mine and she snuggles close enough to have her tits pressing hot against my chest. Her hand starts to slide up and down my abs, making my cock twitch in an effort to draw her attention. If I really didn’t have any morals, I’d flip her over and fuck her hard.
Yet, somehow doing just that doesn’t sit well. Let’s just say ninety-nine percent of my brain is on team ‘fuck her brains out’ while one damn percent is blinking rapidly with the warning to pace myself. But she feels so damn good. Soft curves, a whole lot of woman, and those unique eyes that are staring right at me. Shit. She’s awake.
Chapter Two
***Kinsey***
I’m dreaming. My eyes are wide open but what my brain is processing can’t be reality. It must be the tequila. It’s gotta be the tequila. How emotionally wreaking the day started, crashing into a havoc explosion, and ripping my life as I knew it apart. All of it fades away in this moment.
My head is still fuzzy and riding the tequila high while I’m in bed against the naked skin of the most handsome man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I reach out and let my fingers slide over his rough but short trimmed beard. Dark and yet touched by gray. Salt and pepper comes to mind and even if the lines around his eyes tell me he must be hitting the forty mark, the level of sexiness is off the charts.
It’s the whole appearance. The look in his eyes all carnal, waiting, biding his time before he pounces. Thick, muscled shoulders and arms. The way his big hand reaches out to dig his rough fingers into my hair makes my pussy clench with the thought of having his touch there instead.
His fist tightens in my hair and I briefly close my eyes to relish in the sweet bite of erotic pain, but I instantly lock my eyes back on his. I can’t believe how many times I’ve dreamed about a man taking charge…just…taking. Yes. I’m most definitely dreaming, and if I’m not, I sure as hell won’t have any regrets later.
Who cares about a name or getting acquainted first? Especially with a body like mine because let me tell you…other than the crude remarks, sneers, disgusted looks out on the street or anywhere else for that matter? There’s no other attention any man has given me.
Especially not the way this man is gazing at me, lust openly swirling in his eyes. My gaze travels over his chest, abs, lickable V pointing straight at one very thick and large cock jutting in the air.
“Well, hello there,” I whisper, admiring the sight before me. See? My brain thinks that’s enough to seize the moment. I did mention my emotionally nerve-wracking day, right?
“Fuck. Even your stare is hot,” the man grumbles in a lust filled tone.
I reach out and let my fingers slide over his dick. It’s as if I’m touching velvet wrapped over steel and I have to swallow at the way saliva pools in my mouth. I want to taste him so damn bad. It’s strange because the closest I’ve ever come to a blow job is inching closer to my TV screen while watching porn.
I’m not a virgin, don’t get me wrong. I lost that status years ago when I was barely nineteen in the backseat of a car. Worst experience ever. I must say the second time with the same guy wasn’t very exciting either so I kinda called it quits and bought myself a few vibrators. Better results than sampling goods—of all the non-existing men I’ve met in my life—I didn’t even get any offers from in the first place.
Okay, I sound pathetic, and maybe it all adds to the reason why I lean forward and let my tongue circle the angry red mushroom head of his magnificent dick. Oh, wow. Salty yet addictive. I try to take more of him in my mouth and feel his fist push my head down while his hips rise off the bed. He hits the back of my throat and for a moment I start to panic but he’s already sliding out.
The sounds rumbling from his chest along with the rough pants make me feel as if this man is surrounding me with his demands at every angle. It’s impossible to fight the lust building in my veins. My eyes roll back into my head as I start to get lost in sucking, swirling, his scent, his taste, the feel of his strong grip on my head while he guides me. Until suddenly, all of it is ripped away.
Harsh curses flow through the air before I’m being hoisted up. My pants and panties are being ripped away, and then I’m positioned on my knees. His hand is roughly shoving me between my shoulder blades leaving me no other option than to press my cheek against the mattress.
A scream rips from my mouth when I’m caught by surprise by his hand landing hard on my ass cheek. I don’t have time to gasp for air as his hand lands on my other cheek. Holy hell, the rush of wetness dripping from between my legs is shocking, as are the moans coming from my body.
“That’s it, darlin’, like the bite of pain by my hand, huh? Fuckin’ knew you would. Wait till I get my hands on your tits and pussy.” Guttural. His tone is stating a fact and yet there’s so much else to be said about the lust and promise flowing through his words.
Should I reply? Do I need to say thank you, now give me more? Dammit, inexperienced and in way over my head; that’s me right now. But it seems I don’t have to do anything because this man takes the lead in every way when the tip of his dick is nudging my entrance.
“You’re not getting my hands on your pussy. I gotta get my cock drenched with your juices, it’s been way too long since…fuuuuck,” he groans while entering me in one hard push forward.
He buries himself so deep inside me it feels like he’s ripping me apart. I’m clawing at the sheets, trying to get away from him. It’s too much. I’m overwhelmed. I feel full, stretched. It’s a solid mixture of being dominated with pleasure while the bite of pain is digging deep, challenging my soul to lay bare for the taking.
One thing’s for sure, this is not a dream, it’s reality marking me and setting the standards for sex so damn high I’m going to be lost if this man never takes my pussy again. Twisted, I know. But the vibe of power and strength covering my back while his hips slam against my flesh, and his breath hot next to my ear spilling grunts, is feeding my body with desire.
“More.” Did I really spill a single word between gasps for air?
His soft chuckle lets me know I indeed demanded he up his game as I’m struggling to stay in one place on the bed while he’s already forcefully pounding inside me. So. Damn. Hard. The bed is stating the rhythm against the wall, and it’s a good thing or the damned bed would hop through the room.
Oh. My. God. I didn’t know it was possible, but my request is being honored when he rotates his hips and somehow discovers a secret place inside me I wasn’t even aware I had. A button. A freaking detonation spot. My veins fill with ultimate pleasure while scream after scream releases from my mouth as I let the most intense orgasm overtake my body.
In the back of my head I can hear my name being ripped from his chest while hot jets coat the inside of my pussy. A massive weight is pressing me into the mattress, but I might as well die right here because I gave all I had to give, so I’m pretty sure there’s no life left in me. My eyes flutter shut and I let sleep claim me.
When I slowly awake, I have to swallow a few times at the horrible taste. It’s as if a rat found its way inside my mouth and peed in it. Hell, he probably died in there too. Not to mention he probably ate its way through my brain�
��before the fucker died—by the way my head pounds like the mother of all headaches. Dammit, I shouldn’t have drank all that tequila. I never drink. Well, not more than the two or three cocktails on a Friday night after I’m done with my hour of knife throwing.
Knife throwing? Yes, it’s an addictive thing me and my friend Cassie have been doing for almost a year now. Ever since she won a gift certificate for two hours of free play and drink, we fell into a routine to go out every Friday.
I don’t have any other friends besides Cassie, and to be honest, I have no need or time to add more friends in my life either. Same goes for Cassie and besides…all you really need is one good friend instead of a whole bunch who like to talk behind your back and throw a knife while they’re at it. So, we prefer the easy-going friendship and Friday night activities.
I tried calling Cassie tonight even though I knew she was out of town. Her job made her step on a plane to Alaska and she won’t be back for at least a solid month, or however long it takes her to complete her job there.
She warned me her cell probably wouldn’t work all the time. I know how most times she forgets to charge her phone, it’s probably the more accurate reason for her not to be getting my messages.
Life really knows when to suck. And it sucks so freaking bad right now, it makes me deep throat all my problems at once. Talking about deep throat…wow. Images flash through my mind so hot, it has me clenching my thighs together and instantly I feel it wasn’t a wet dream but hard reality.
My pussy feels well used and with the memories just hitting me; I had the most amazing sex any person in this world had the pleasure of having. Seriously. Porn stars would have been jealous and calling me to spill all the dirty details, wanting to meet me, along with the man…the man.
My eyes flash open to see said man lying naked beside me. A heavily muscled, inked-up back on show. I slam a hand over my own mouth to prevent the scream from flowing out and scurry off the bed. Glancing around, I see a door leading to a bathroom and dash inside, locking the door behind me.
My heart is racing and my head is pounding. All of it makes my body heat and my stomach churn. I barely manage to hang my head above the toilet in time to puke my guts out. Yikes. If there’s something I hate in life, it’s puking. I groan and wait for my body to tell me it’s handling itself and lean back to connect my bare ass on the tiles.
Oh. Double yikes. My bare ass is on someone’s unknown tiles while wetness is trickling out of my pussy. Sperm. Sperm is…triple yikes, and forget about cooties hitting my ass, I put not only my pussy, and womb at risk, but my whole life along with it.
I need to get tested and get a freaking morning-after pill. No, wait, I recently got a shot, phew. Pregnancy is off the table unless the man has super sperm, but everything else? Holy freaking yikes.
Deep breaths. I have to get out of here. And where are my clothes, and how did I even get here? Dammit, seriously, Kinsey…No. More. Tequila. Never again. Shit. If my mother found out she would be…
Tears start to burn my eyes and my throat is closing up. The stabbing pain in my chest is overwhelming. She can’t find out. Not now—not ever—since she died yesterday. Everything comes crashing back as to what led me to drown myself in tequila as sobs start to rip from my body.
The door starts to rattle and a rough voice flows along with it. “Open the fuck up, Kinsey.”
He knows my name? How does he know my name when I don’t know his? Do I even want to open up? I have to get out of here, but there isn’t a window where I can escape from, not to mention I’m freaking naked. What other choice do I have than to let this man in? I grab the counter and hoist myself up and the reflection staring back at me in the mirror makes me flinch.
“Just a moment,” I say, and lean forward to rinse my mouth with some water.
I splash some more on my face while I’m at it and luckily notice some toothpaste. Improvising, I squeeze some on my finger and rub it over my teeth and some on my tongue to get rid of my morning breath, slash puke party, I’m having in my mouth.
Better to make do with things life offers than to have puke breath while facing a man who screwed your brains out and forgot to remember his name. But I’m pretty sure he never gave it, or I didn’t ask, because I remember very vividly saying hello to his cock.
I glance down at my very naked self and debate if I should place a hand in front of my lady bits or maybe snatch a towel from the pile and wrap it around my body. But it would actually be a bit too late seeing we did the whole down and dirty together. No panties means imaginary big girl panties, and to be honest…with the things I had to endure yesterday before I met this man…wait. How did I meet this man?
Ugh, anyway, chin up and face shit with pride. Or so my mother used to say whenever I did something I regretted doing. My hand flips the lock and I grab the doorknob before swinging the door open.
Holy shit. That’s the guy who screwed my brains out last night? Drunk me did good in the hotness department. Really good. Where did I find, pick up…shit. You’ve got to be kidding me. Somewhere in the back of my head the memory strikes me of how I wanted to call a stripper.
“You’re the stripper I called?” I ask, and while I think about it, “How did I get here? Did I agree to come with you or come over to your house? Sorry, my head is killing me. Tequila and all. I don’t regret anything, though. Good sex. Thank you.”
Good sex? Thank you? What. The. Actual. Freaking. Brain farts of all brain farts? And all while I’m standing there naked, my nipples so hard they are trying to strike a pose to be noticed by this man and beg for his attention. Not to mention I just puked, my head is still pounding and his cum is slipping out. Did I mention I don’t even know his name?
“Oh, and what was your name again? Wait. Come to think of it…what was the name of the stripper…did I call one? I remember thinking about it,” I mutter to myself but the way a sexy smirk covers his face, I know I’ve rattled it all out instead of keeping it inside my head.
“The name’s Petros, and no, I ain’t no stripper. And I wouldn’t describe my cock possessing your pussy as good sex, and if you do, I need to up my game.” Another smirk paints his lips and he quirks one of his eyebrows as if he’s challenging me to…what? Request he ups his game?
“Okay, fine. Mind-blowing, great cock, the best my pussy has ever had the honor of letting slide inside. Hall of fame worthy fuck.” I roll my eyes. “Enough of me stroking your ego? Good. Now move ‘cause I need to find the clothes I was wearing and do the whole walk of shame thing. I’m kinda in a hurry to get home and swing by the pharmacy. Morning after pill as a double security, aspirin, get checked for an STD, the usual,” I blabber, getting fed-up with the whole blocking my exit, cocky, and crude appearance.
Besides, I really do need to get home and make arrangements for my mother. Probably also check into my financial situation with my scumbag of a father pulling the epic stunt of all time and ripping the rug underneath my feet away and all. Dammit, I don’t even have a job left to worry about.
Petros’ chin lifts, making his head fall slightly back as he crosses his thick arms in front of his chest in an imposing threat. And for real, what kind of name is Petros? Sounds Greek.
“You’re not going anywhere.” The hard snap in his voice makes me take a step back. “Ah, finally. I have your undivided attention? Good.” He leans into my personal space. “Where’s your father?”
Where’s my…my…father? It comes down to my scumbag of a part DNA supplier? The asshole who I had somewhat loved because I kinda had to, with him being my dad and all. Even if he was my mother’s tormentor with the mental abuse he dragged her through for years on end.
All those times I begged her to divorce him but she wouldn’t because she loved him. Well, if she only knew…no. I’m glad she died without knowing what my father told me mere hours ago.
Anger overtakes me with the memory of what happened yesterday. “I don’t have to tell you shit. I don’t even freaking know you and
you start to ask about my damn father? Did he make you do this? A pity fuck?” I place both hands on Petros’ chest and give him a hard shove. He’s not expecting my move and he stumbles backwards.
I take advantage and stalk past him. Noticing my yoga pants on the floor, I quickly put them on and snatch up a large black t-shirt lying near my feet. I’m about to grab my shoes when I’m being roughly grabbed by my upper arm.
“Don’t think for a damn second you can pull something like that again. Doesn’t matter if my cock likes your tight pussy, I’ll still grab you by the throat and put you in your fucking place, got me?” he growls.
I should be intimidated. I don’t even know him and with the bulging muscles, his height and strength, I would be an idiot not to even have a sliver of fear running through me but to be honest? I’ve still got a pounding headache. I’m hurt by what happened yesterday—not to mention how I woke up—and all of it makes me very, very angry at the world. I can hardly fight the world, so I’ll compensate and chose to let the man in front of me have it all.
“Fuck. You,” I seethe. “If you think I’m some bimbo you can fuck and make her roll over belly up whenever you bark your orders, you’re dead wrong. I’m not a little wallflower bred to be crushed underneath your thumb, you arrogant asshole.”
His hand flashes up and my next breath is hard to take with his fingers tightening around my throat. Adrenaline and anger fuel me as I lean into his grip, closing off my own throat even more. My words come out choppy when I state, “And for your information. My pussy just decided to be repulsed by your cock. So, go on, asshole, you have me by the throat, right? Put me in my place and be done with it.”
My stare is equally as fierce as his. If this would have happened two days ago, I’d be a shivering, weeping mess on the floor and shaking with fear. But now? In this moment? The hand life has dealt me? Fuck him. Fuck everybody. But most of all? Fuck this screwed up world where nothing is what it seems.
Petros (Royal Bastards MC) Page 2
