and long. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Fuck, it makes me so fucking hard for you. You feel that? That’s all because of you.”
All I could do was try and breathe, my words gone. I didn’t know the difference between anger and desire. I was trapped in feelings and emotions with no way out.
Nowhere to run.
I tried to snatch my hand away but Nolan was faster. He now held both of my hands behind my back in one of his. His lips skated across my neck and jaw. I turned to bite at him but it only made him laugh.
“Do you remember what I told you? When you feel that temper of yours crossing over to that point of no return, then you take that shit out on me. If you have to unleash whatever is going on in that pretty brain of yours, then you unleash it on me. You give ME your anger and you don’t leave again. You hear what I’m saying? Come at me, Rage. Give me all you fucking got, and I’ll give it right back. Take it out on me. On my body. I promise, I can take it.” Nolan paused, running his gaze over my body, licking me up and down with his hazel eyes. “I want to take it.”
He pulled on the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it to the ground. Wrapping his hand around my wrist, he brought it forward against his chest. He pressed my fingernails into his flesh and scraped them down his skin, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake. “If you want to hurt me, hurt me like this.” He dragged my hand from his chest and wrapped it behind my back again before skating a hand down the front of my shorts. “But no more fucking running.”
He stopped just short of my entrance playing with my wetness. My hips shot off the railing at the contact. “Say it, Rage,” he demanded. “Say yes, you won’t run from me anymore, and I’ll give you what you want, baby.”
“I…yes,” I said, because it was all I could say. Because as much as I wanted to hate him, wanted to kill him, I didn’t.
His lips descended on mine and we didn’t just kiss, we tore each other apart. It wasn’t just passion. It was fucking war. An all out fight for a piece of one another. A piece I knew I wanted but didn’t think I could have. “You still feeling it, Rage? That anger of yours still boiling inside of you?”
I nodded as my pussy clenched and wetness flooded my panties.
“Good,” Nolan said, staring deep into my eyes. He pushed one long finger inside me, dragging it in and out as he spoke. “Because I’m about to fuck the anger right out of you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Nolan
I kissed her long and hard while I fucked her soaking wet pussy with my fingers. I kissed her until we were both breathless, stoking the fire that had only grown in our time apart. Her full lips and wet tongue against my mouth were both heaven and fucking hell.
Rage was breathing like she was about to unleash fire from her nose and mouth. I knew she was trying to gain control, her fury still evident in her bloodshot eyes and the way her entire body was tense, from her tight jaw to the balls of wadded up muscle her thighs had become. I swallowed hard and even through my own anger, there was no way I could deny that she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I wanted to punish her. Devour her. Take her in every way there was to take her.
Mine.
I was impossibly hard.
Voices echoed in the distance over the trees from nearby neighborhoods. Both the darkness of the night and the line of trees surrounding the small lake concealed us from wandering eyes, but it wasn’t like I gave a fuck if a million people watched. That way they would know who Rage belonged to.
Rage’s pussy sucked on my fingers, milking them as I pushed in and out of her, circling her clit with my thumb while I shamelessly rubbed my cock against her through the clothes that I hated more than I hated the fact that she’d been away from me for way too fucking long.
Never again.
Her pussy was fucking perfection. Warm and swollen and every time I dragged my finger out, it sucked me back in like it wasn’t going to let me go. I wanted nothing more than to feel that on my cock. She writhed against my hand between furious kisses, digging her claws into me like she wasn’t ever going to let me go. Fuck knows I never wanted her to.
If someone asked me to choose between Rage’s pussy and playing hockey again, despite the lies, despite everything, I would choose her. Over hockey. Over school.
Over my club.
I released Rage’s wrists with my one hand, while I brought her closer and closer to the edge with the other. I pushed her harder back against the railing and captured her mouth and her moans as she clamped around my finger. Her heels dug hard into my back. I swallowed her cries and felt my balls tighten up as she pulsed and contracted, riding my hand as she came and came.
I didn’t wait for her orgasm to subside before dropping to my knees and pulling her shorts down and off. With a primal growl, I pushed her back and grabbed the backs of her knees, spreading her legs around my shoulders. One glance at the wetness leaking down her thigh almost had me coming apart. I dove in, needing to taste her orgasm on my lips.
I dragged my tongue over her clit and dove straight into her pussy, which was dripping fucking wet, my cheeks sliding against the inside of her soaking thighs as I lapped up everything she had to give me. She fisted my hair and tugged hard. I reached up with one hand and ran my fingertips under her shirt and over one of her hard nipples. Her face was twisted up like she was fighting herself. Her anger versus her pleasure. I knew who was going to win.
She cried out, on the verge of coming again, and when she rubbed her pussy hard against my face, I was completely done and knew what we both needed. “Enough of this bullshit,” I said standing up and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. She was so tiny, so powerless, yet so strong and so powerful. She was anger and beauty and lust wrapped up in one fierce package.
I pushed down my jeans and stepped out of them. I lifted her up, and with one arm around her waist, I turned her, slamming her back against the partition in the center of the pier. Her legs wrapped around my waist. My cock against her bare pussy, gliding along her wetness. Skin against skin. Wet. Wild. Raw. My cock was aching and ready. Purple, thick, long and ready to take to take what was mine. “You ready for me?” I growled in her ear and she responded my clenching her thighs around my waist, inviting me closer.
Inviting me inside.
We were both breathing heavily. I was barely holding my shit together. All coherent thought left the building the second I lifted her up and the tip of my cock met the warmest, wettest, tightest fucking pussy ever. I paused, trying to regain my control, groaning when she wiggled her hips against me. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled as I tried to push inside, but the head of my cock was met with resistance that had me breaking down with both frustration and elation. She was dripping fucking wet, down the inside of her thighs and into the crack of her ass.
“Please,” she begged.
“You’re so…so fucking tight,” I groaned, feeling beads of sweat forming on my forehead, as I stroked the opening of her pussy with just the tip of my cock over and over again, while we stared into each other’s eyes, reading each other’s bodies.
“Do it,” she said. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. A challenge.
“You’re really fucking tight. It’s gonna fucking hurt,” I warned, unsure if I was talking about it hurting me or her.
“I want it to hurt.”
With those words, I lost my fucking mind. I captured her mouth again and our tongues tangled as I surged forward, battling my way inside my girl. It was about to be painful for her, but it was painful for me too.
Best pain of my fucking life.
There was no way her perfect pussy had ever been stretched open before. Whatever she thought might have happened, didn’t fucking happen. Rage was mine and mine alone. And if I didn’t know it before, I knew it for sure when the tip of my cock bumped against a barrier when I wasn’t even halfway inside her yet.
“Please. More,” she begged, digging he
r heels harder into my ass. I lifted her up and set her down on the pier, climbing over her body without severing the connection we had.
“Yes,” she said, while we continued to stare into one another. “Please” she added, bucking her hips against me, asking for more.
So I gave it to her.
Pushing forward, I tore through her virgin barrier in one hard thrust, bottoming out inside of her as we both cried out. I wanted to stay buried in her tight heat forever, but the need to taste what I’d just done consumed me. I quickly pulled out from her and worked my way down her body. Spreading her thighs with my hands, digging my fingers into her soft skin, I darted my tongue inside her tightness until I found what I craved and the coppery taste of her virgin blood hit the tip of my tongue.
I watched her. Her eyes were closed, her face scrunched up. It was then that I realized she was not only still angry, but she was holding back.
I crawled back up her body and lifted her ass off the pier, holding her at an angle, impaling her on my cock in one hard thrust.
I fucked her with everything I had. “Open your eyes,” I demanded, and when she did, I met her gaze. “Don’t hold back, baby. Do you want to scream? Is that what you want? Is that what you need?”
She nodded, her teeth gritted in the sexiest angry scowl I’d ever seen.
“Then fucking scream, baby,” I commanded, picking up my pace until the only word that could be used to describe the way I was fucking her would be brutal. Then I did what I promised her I was going to do and I fucked the anger right out of her.
It started as a small growl from her mouth. A little roar in my ear. Seconds later, Rage was all-out screaming into the night, and I found myself screaming right along with her. I felt her release everything in her little body that had her all twisted. Violently coming around my cock, she gave me everything then took everything I had, milking me as I came inside of her. Whatever was happening between us was more than bodies and orgasms—it was like we were crashing into one another and holding on for our fucking lives.
Rage may not have shot me, but I’d been right all along, because she had killed me.
No death had ever been sweeter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Rage
“Nolan, where the fuck are my parents?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath. A burst of laughter shot from his mouth. “Why exactly is that funny?”
He wagged his eyebrows at me and dipped his fingers between my legs rubbing our combined wetness on the inside of my thighs. “Because we just fucked. Because I just broke your pussy with my cock and my cum is still leaking from your pussy…and you’re asking me about your parents.”
“You knew I was different,” I pointed out.
“I sure as fuck did,” Nolan whispered, running his fingers up my stomach, tracing circles on the outside of my hip. “Your parents are at the Belgian American Social Club in Port Charlotte at some sort of festival that involves a mannequin that pees or something. They’ll be back in the morning.” He looked up at the sky. The sun had already started to rise. “Or shortly.”
I smacked my own forehead. “They go to that every year. Wait. How did you know they were going there? Or where they lived? And how did you get my phone number to send me that picture and…” I sat up, continuing to fire off my questions. Nolan reached out and twisted my nipple under my T-shirt to get me to shut up. I smacked his hand away and he grabbed my wrist, gently rubbing his thumb over my palm and planting a soft kiss on my knuckles.
Nolan sighed. “I couldn’t find you for shit, well, except for your bogus Instagram account. Your Photoshop skills suck, by the way. I can’t believe your parents really think that’s Paris in the background. Then I remembered what you said about them being from Belgium, and the exit off the interstate you talked about with the big new Harley dealership where you used to watch the bikes. My sources ran with that information and led me right to your parents.”
“You looked for me?” I asked, biting my bottom lip.
“Every. Fucking. Day.” My stomach flipped.
“What sources helped you?” I asked, curiously.
“The club’s got plenty of computer geeks and hackers on payroll. They made it happen. It’s one of the perks of being a brother in an MC.”
“Shit,” I said, remembering the reasons why I ran in the first place. The MC. Joker.
“Fuck, what now?” Nolan asked, tightening his hold on me like he was preventing me from running again.
“There’s something I have to tell you. It’s about the MC…” I started.
“Yeah, heard you burnt down Joker’s house,” Nolan said with a smile. “But why do you look all pissy about it? I thought that was your thing?”
“No, the fucking fire was magical, but you’re not hearing what I’m telling you. Your president. The man you swore loyalty to. I burnt down his house and he wants me dead.”
“And?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe I was thinking that could be a slight conflict of interest?”
“How so?” Nolan asked, raising an eyebrow at me and settling back on his elbows.
“Because you. And then me…ugh forget it.”
Nolan chuckled. “I’m just teasing you. I know what you’re trying to say. It’s a problem because you and me are together. You’re mine. I’m not letting you go. You’re coming to stay with me in the cottage until we figure the hockey shit out, and then you’ll come with me wherever I go. I’ll talk to Joker, sort that shit out.”
“You still want me?” I asked. “After knowing what it is I do? I’m sure you heard the nicknames.”
“Angel of death. Rambo Barbie.”
“Rambo Barbie.” I laughed. “I like that one.”
“I’m not exactly the choir boy type myself if you haven’t noticed, and you do what any guy in my MC does. You have a business. You do what needs to be done. You handle shit. The way I see it is that the only difference between you and a guy in my club is dick size.” He looked at me and winked. “I think yours is bigger.” I leapt on top of him and playfully punched at his chest. He held me down so my breasts were pressed against his skin. Suddenly, guilt plagued me.
“I wasn’t going to kill you,” I admitted. “I mean I was, at first. But then I changed my mind. Even if I got the call to do it, I wasn’t going to.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I know you, Rage. Better than you know you,” Nolan lifted his head and gently brushed his lips against mine.
“Oh yeah? What is it you think you know about me, Goon?” I challenged, nipping at his lips.
He swept the pad of his thumb across my cheek and I leaned into his touch. “I know that you don’t love often, but when you love, you love with all your heart. Cause I can feel it.”
“I’m listening,” I said, my heart hammering in my chest. He rubbed gentle circles over my temple before tracing a line down to my jaw. “And?” I asked breathlessly.
Nolan found my eyes once again. “And, I know that when you hate, you hate with all your soul.”
I guess he really did know me after all.
Nolan stood up, taking me with him then setting me down on the pier. He stepped back into his jeans and tossed me my shorts. “Now don’t get used me to me telling you all my secrets,” he said, slinging his arm around my shoulder one we were both dressed. “Old ladies don’t get to know club business.”
“I don’t want to be an old lady!” I shouted, moving out from under Nolan’s arm.
I thought Nolan would get angry at my outburst, but he crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, looking amused. “Then what do you want to be?”
“I just want to be me. Just Rage,” I said.
Nolan closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me. “This Just Rage person you want to be, does she belong to me?” He whispered against my neck.
“Yes,” I breathed, tipping my head to give him better access.
“T
hen it’s all good,” he said, releasing me and grabbing my hand, tugging me behind him. The familiarity of the gesture sent a bolt of warmth through my chest. It’s crazy how much I’d missed such a simple thing like holding his hand.
“Where are we going? Why do we have to hurry?” I asked.
Nolan didn’t stop, just continued dragging me behind him. “It’s morning and your parents will be back soon.”
All the Rage Page 21
