Conrad (Savage Kings MC - South Carolina Book Series 4)

by Lane Hart

  Okay, so I can’t lie to her. In her current state, a kid is the last thing Hannah needs to be worrying about until she can help herself get better. First, she needs to grow up a whole hell of a lot, then she has to stop drinking so much and being so…promiscuous – like she doesn’t care what happens to her body.

  But there’s time for her to do all of that. She’s only twenty! When I was twenty, I was still so fucking selfish – drinking and partying every night while prospecting with the Savage Kings. Getting my patch was about the only thing I cared about.

  “You’re young,” I tell her honestly. “You can’t even legally drink yet. There’s still plenty of time for you to figure shit out.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “I am,” I tell her, giving her arm a squeeze.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hannah

  * * *

  Conrad is a nice guy. In fact, I feel a little bad about how difficult I’ve made the past few days for him.

  He was honestly upset when I wouldn’t eat or drink.

  Is that because he’s genuinely worried about me or just doesn’t want to bring me back to my father malnourished?

  I can’t figure out why he’s doing this to me when he hates my dad. Must be some pretty bad blackmail.

  “How about we sleep for now and start working on a plan to get you a teaching degree tomorrow?” Conrad asks from his seat on my bed when he pulls his hand away from my arm. I miss his comforting touch so much that I even roll to my back, seeking him out.

  “Why do you care?” I ask him. “You’re just supposed to get me back to Myrtle Beach, right?”

  “I care because you’re a smart, beautiful girl who has a lot more to offer than you think.”

  In the darkness, I can’t really see much of him other than his light hair, but it’s nice knowing he’s there and that he thinks I’m beautiful. Talking to him like this has been nice too. And with the small taste of alcohol on my lips, finding its way into my bloodstream, temporarily soothing my aching soul like a magic balm, I think I may be able to sleep a little. “First things first, you just need to get a few days sober, then everything will start to become clearer. You’ll feel better, and it’ll be easier for you to figure out a direction for the future.”

  “If you say so,” I mutter with a sigh, blowing the hair hanging in my eyes away for a moment.

  “Good night,” Conrad says for the second time tonight.

  And then, I feel the brush of his fingertips gently pushing the loose hair out of my face. I’m not sure how he knew it was there since it’s so dark in here. It’s a sweet, innocent touch, something I haven’t felt from a man in a long time, if ever. My head hurts too much to try and figure that one out tonight or puzzle out why Conrad is being nice to me when I’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass to him.

  At least I know one thing for sure – he’s not immune to my body as proven by how enthusiastically he went down on me earlier, getting so turned on by licking me to orgasm that he had to rub one out.

  I was able to talk him into doing something he said just a few days ago that he would never do. Which means nothing is off the table now. The more things get physical between us, hopefully the more difficult it will be for Conrad to drop me off with my father in a few days.

  I’ll show him a good time, and then he’ll have no choice but to keep coming back for more. That’s all it usually takes with me – the lure of great, no-strings attached sex, which is honestly all I have to offer.

  Now I have an idea for tomorrow, one that I’m hoping will wrap Conrad around my finger. I can’t wait because I want him so bad it hurts. Not only do I want his body, but I want more of his attention and affection too, and I know one surefire way to get it.

  Conrad

  * * *

  I can’t fucking sleep.

  How can I when Hannah is in my head, tiny pieces of her all scattered around like a goddamn Rubik’s cube I can’t put together much less try and solve.

  There’s so much more to her than the wild, loose girl she portrays. She’s smart, that much is certain. But at the moment she seems so…lost and broken.

  And she won’t tell me why.

  Why doesn’t she want to go home and be with her family? Why does that seem like such a horrible option when anything has to be better than living with a man old enough to be her father and drinking herself to death?

  Was it her father who told her that she wasn’t cut out to be a mother or a teacher?

  Just like earlier today when I was powerless to do anything to get her to talk to me or eat or drink anything, I wish I could tie her up and make her tell me who hurt her and what they did to her so that I could make them pay.

  Of course that thought has my mind going down a much different path, one that’s incredibly wrong yet still makes my entire body heat up with interest.

  Finally, my muscles start to relax into the hotel mattress as I go to that familiar fucked-up place in my head. The one that would love to put Hannah in the restraints and then beat her ass with my belt until she confessed everything in her head and heart to me.

  It wouldn’t just be for my benefit. Whatever she’s holding back isn’t good for her – like a poison that makes her act so out of control. The longer it stays in her system, the worse it hurts her.

  I remember being a teenager, thinking that every problem was a giant one that was unsolvable. Now, as an adult, I’ve realized that there’s always a solution; sometimes they’re just easier than others.

  Like for instance, when our mom’s MS started getting worse a few years ago, we thought she was going to permanently lose her vison. Then I started researching the best doctors and medications for her, not giving up until we found Dr. Sanders in Florida. He may have cost a fortune, but Cannon and I were able to help our parents cover the expenses for his prescribed cocktail of pills to not only help our mom get her sight back but put her in remission. She was doing great until just a couple of months ago when her body became too weak to be left alone for even a few hours a day. That’s when Cannon and I convinced our father to quit his job as a real estate agent to stay home with her, promising him we would take care of their living expenses and even Mom’s outrageous health care premiums. So far, it’s working out fine. And if she gets worse in the next few years, we’ll do whatever we have to do to help her.

  So no matter what caused Hannah to give up on her future, there has to be some way to help her find her way back onto the right path.

  If she would stop trying to distract herself with alcohol and sex, I think I can make her see that too.

  Which means from now on, I won’t give in and cross that line with her again. I don’t care how long she goes without eating or talking, sex is off the table, especially oral sex, the most intimate act of them all.

  Just two more nights with her and our time together will be done. My life will go back to being boring but normal. I’ll throw away all of my ropes, cuffs, and restraints of any kind to make myself stop my own fucked-up behavior.

  I can go three days and two nights without laying a hand on Hannah again other than to put on and remove the leather cuffs and ankle spreader. And I definitely will not put my mouth on her again, no matter how badly I may want to.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hannah

  * * *

  Sleep comes and goes for me during the night. By the sounds coming from Conrad’s bed, I’m guessing he did a lot of tossing and turning of his own.

  He mentioned that the alcohol withdrawal could cause insomnia, but I was restless for an entirely different reason. My body felt too hot and wired to sleep, thinking about Conrad’s tongue working between my legs, wanting more and to return the favor.

  Which is why, when I finish showering and drying my hair the next morning, I stroll out of the bathroom still naked. Conrad is in the process of pulling a clean white shirt over his head. When he sees me, his eyes widen, and it takes him several tries to get his arms in the right holes.r />
  “What are you doing?” he asks. “Get your clothes on so we can get you ready to leave.”

  By “get you ready to leave” I know he means put all the restraints back on me.

  “This morning I think we should do things a little differently,” I tell Conrad.

  “You do, huh?” he asks, then attempts to pack his bag on the bed which turns out to be difficult since he can’t stop glancing over at me. Finally, he gives up with a sigh and turns to face me, running his fingers through his still-damp blond hair.

  “Yes, I do,” I reply when I go and pick up the thigh and wrist cuffs from his bed and walk right up to him with them.

  Clearing his throat, he says, “You need to get dressed first.”

  “I will in a few minutes,” I reply. “Now, sit down.” I nod my head to the foot of the bed, but Conrad doesn’t move. “Please?”

  “You’re never putting those wrist cuffs on me,” he warns.

  “How about just the thigh ones?”

  “What?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Sit down and I’ll show you.”

  Finally, he slowly lowers himself down to the mattress while watching me closely like he thinks this is some kind of trick to screw him over.

  When I kneel down between his legs, I offer him the cuffs. “Put those on my wrists?”

  “You’re asking me to put them on you?” he says in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  His shoulders fall minutely like he’s sad that I didn’t make him work harder to put them on me today.

  “Yesterday I had to chase you around the room and then hold you down to get these on you,” Conrad reiterates like I had somehow forgotten as he starts fastening the first cuff on my right wrist, then the left.

  I liked making him work for it yesterday, knowing how turned on it made him. I could feel it in how hard his dick was afterward. But I think he’s going to enjoy this game too.

  His jeans are already getting a little tighter as he works on the wrist restraint locks. With each click the two locks make, I’m pretty sure he gets a little harder.

  “You’ll have to put your clothes on before the thigh cuffs go on,” he says, voice deeper than before when he’s finished.

  “First, I want to put the thigh cuffs on you,” I tell him as I grip his thighs.

  “On me?” he repeats, blue eyes locking with mine in question even though I’m pretty sure he already knows the answer.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” I ask, running my palms up his thighs. “Wouldn’t it be fun if I were bound to you for a little while in this position?”

  He mutters a response that still sounds hesitant, but he finally gives in and wraps the first leather cuff around his jean-covered thigh, buckling it loosely so he can slide it off easily, before doing the second. His eyes then hold mine as he secures my wrist restraints to the ones on his thighs as if he’s making sure it’s what I want and he didn’t misunderstand. When I don’t protest, he locks the other one.

  Finished, Conrad asks, “Now what?” His words come out ragged thanks to the way his chest is moving up and down faster and faster as his pulse and breathing accelerate with anticipation.

  “Now you unzip your pants and pull your dick out.”

  There’s not a second of hesitation on his part as his fingers deftly unbutton and unzip his jeans, then retrieve his long thick shaft that’s so swollen all the veins are standing out like they’re begging to be licked. He’s hard and ready from just putting on the restraints.

  Holding himself by his root in one hand, he uses the other to tug the loose thigh cuffs higher, bringing me closer to his body. Then, he grips my chin tightly before rubbing his cockhead against my lips. I don’t open my mouth right away, preferring to tease him a little longer.

  “I don’t know…why the fuck I’m doing this,” he pants, now painting his precum over my lips.

  “Sure you do,” I glance up and say, which of course causes my lips to part enough for him to shove his dick inside a few inches. I don’t make it easy, scraping my teeth over his velvety flesh before he curses and pulls out. That’s when I lean forward and lick the length of one of his veins, then another.

  “Oh fuck,” Conrad groans to the ceiling before his eyes come back down to mine to watch to see what I’ll do next.

  Finally, I open wide and let him sink all the way into my mouth, enjoying his grunts and curses as I start to suck him.

  I’ve always loved giving head. I remember the first time I went down on my high school boyfriend. A big, muscular football player who was twice my size but was reduced to a begging, whimpering, desperate boy when he was in my mouth. Oral was safer than chancing getting knocked up, so we did it a lot those first few months, including the time my dad caught me on my knees in my bedroom, called me a whore, and grounded me for weeks.

  I hadn’t realized I had slowed down while my mind unfortunately wandered down memory lane, but I have no choice but to focus on the man in front of me when he grabs the back of my head with both hands and shoves his dick to the back of my throat.

  “Goddamn that’s good,” Conrad mutters as his hips start thrusting faster while holding my head in place. It isn’t like I could go anywhere even if I wanted to since I insisted that he attach my restrained wrists to his thighs. His fingers release my head to comb through my hair, holding it up like a ponytail that he wraps tightly around his fist.

  When he suddenly stands up, I pull my mouth off his shaft, thinking I’ve done something wrong.

  Instead, he says, “Don’t you dare fucking stop!” pressing my head closer by my hair while feeding his dick past my lips again. Once I grip his thighs and I’m back to the rhythm of sucking and bobbing my head again, I glance up and realize Conrad’s watching us in the hotel mirror that’s behind me.

  “God yes. Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he gasps and stumbles backward so that he’s sitting on the bed again before leaning back so he’s flat on the mattress, knees bent at the foot of the bed. Yanking his shirt up to his chest and his jeans down as far as the thigh cuffs will let him, he lets me go to lean on his forearms and just watch me work. Now that he’s giving me free rein to suck him however I want, I take him all the way to the back of my throat until I gag and my eyes water a few times.

  “Fuck, Hannah. One more time…and I’m gonna come so hard…” he says after the third time his dick touches my tonsils. Reaching for the back of my head, he guides me roughly toward his body to take him down my throat once again. I don’t gag, but I do moan around him, making his cock swell before it pulses, shooting his hot, thick release that I swallow down as fast I can.

  Once he’s limp and finished, I pull back and lick him clean while Conrad sinks back into the mattress, his eyes either closed or staring at the ceiling while I have no choice but to remain kneeling between his spread legs.

  The room is silent other than his heavy breathing and my own as I gasp in much-needed air. Eventually, he speaks, sounding drunk when he says, “If I could, I would keep you right where you are for the rest of my life.”

  “I thought you would enjoy that,” I say, resting the side of my head on his thigh.

  “Why?” his still-strained voice asks.

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you do that?” he asks, now sitting up to look down at me.

  “Why not?” I reply. “I like sucking cock.”

  Apparently, that was not the answer he was looking for.

  Conrad’s fingers shove into his jeans pocket to remove the small key, then quickly get to work unlocking my wrists from his thighs.

  “Get dressed so we can get on the road. We’re running behind,” he says briskly.

  “That wasn’t worth being behind on your schedule for a few minutes?” I ask.

  “It was great. You obviously have a lot of experience,” he says with his jaw clenched tight.

  “I wasn’t referring to my abilities but t
he fact that I incorporated your kink into the blowjob,” I remark as I stand up, aware of how my boobs jiggle when his eyes lower to them. “You know, playing the role of the slave who binds herself to your thighs so that her sole purpose in life is to suck your dick whenever you want.”

  “Right. I got that part loud and clear,” he says, tucking his dick into his pants and then undoing the thigh restraints from his legs. “Get dressed so I can put the thigh cuffs on you, and we can get on the road.”

  “The thigh, wrist, and ankle cuffs all attach together, don’t they?” I ask while I continue to stand in front of him naked. Since he’s still sitting, it feels like I have the upper hand for maybe a few more seconds.

  “Yes.”

  “So why don’t you lock me in place on my hands and knees in the back seat of the car? Then you could stop every few miles and fuck me.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he mutters, making it sound like a threat.

  “I’m not joking,” I reply.

  Grabbing my hips, he spins me around and then slaps my ass so hard that it stings. And I like it.

  When I don’t move, he says, “In case it wasn’t clear, I get off on bondage and pain. Not sure if you could handle the latter.”

  I’m not sure I could either, so I finally gather up my clothes and go get dressed in the bathroom. Which is stupid since he’s seen me naked, but I still hide when I’m putting on clothes.

  When I return to the bedroom, Conrad is still sitting in the same position on the edge of the mattress as he was when I left. I go right up to him and wait, letting him know I’m ready for the rest of his restraints.

  I don’t fight him as he fits them to my wrists, thighs, and ankles, much to his disappointment as noted by his heavy sighs and constant frown. In fact, I think I’m getting used to the leather belts and ankle spreader. They’re kinky, sure, but they also make me feel…safe. Like as long as I’m wearing them, I know Conrad will be here to take care of me.