Tarnished Lies and Dead Ends

by MariaLisa deMora

  Po’Boy grinned, the expression turning into a sly and pleased smirk. “Fuck yeah, I’m goin’ home. With what I got waitin’ for me? Ain’t sleepin’ away from them if I don’t have to.” Wildman rocked his head back, staring at the ceiling, waiting. He knew what was coming next. For months now, it had been something Po’Boy managed to work into every conversation he could. “Coulda been gay for me, Wildman. Joined us all up in our puppy pile. Puppy pile with me and mine.” Po’Boy’s lovers were a woman named Crissy and the new president of the CoBos, Wrench.

  The dig came from an observation Wildman had made in the heat of the moment after witnessing the two men share a reconnecting kiss, something Wildman had enthusiastically declared the hottest kiss he’d ever seen. It was far less amusing now, but he liked how it gave him and Po’Boy another thread of connection binding them together.

  “Fuck you. I ain’t never gonna live that one down, am I?” He rocked forwards and lightly shoved at Po’Boy’s chest. “Get your happy ass home, then.”

  “No, you will not. Hell, brother, it’s my leverage over you. I found I got a hold on your heart, and I know you’re just waiting for me to act on that secret desire you got deep down inside.” Po’Boy leaned closer, lips pursing comically as he made tiny smacking sounds. “I’m right here, brother. Right in front of you. Just gotta reach out and take what you want.”

  “I got nothing for you, deep inside or not. You’re an asshole, and I hate you.” Grinning at Po’Boy’s put-on expression of disappointment at the rejection, Wildman walked away, middle fingers on both hands lifted over his shoulders. He glanced back to see Po’Boy still standing in place. “Go on, get to bed. As you said, we’re both wiped. Get home to your crew, old man. We’ll hit it tomorrow and find the bastards. Then it’ll all be over.” Po’Boy lifted a hand as he turned away, and Wildman pushed himself to trot up the stairs to his room, pausing before he eased the door open quietly, pleased when he found the bed empty. “Hell yeah.”

  He cleaned up quickly and crawled between the sheets, heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. “Fuck.”

  Confidential contacts with the promise of a big payday were looking for the missing men, but so far had turned up nothing. Without a viable target, Wildman and the other officers couldn’t pull the trigger on a final raid, which meant come tomorrow morning, all the women would have to be convinced they needed to stay in hiding another day. I’ll make it about safety for their families. He blew out a heavy breath, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms, fingernails scraping through his rough scruff. That’ll work.

  Grabbing his phone, Wildman set an alarm to allow for four hours of sleep, then turned to his side and let his eyes sink closed. Exhausted, he took a couple of deep, calming breaths, and the world started slipping away. His last thought was he hoped he dreamed.

  She knelt in front of him, chin lifted to expose her throat, palms cradling her bare breasts for his inspection. Knees spread apart to grant full access, she’d turned her body into a gift meant only for him. Naked and aroused, Wildman walked around behind her and sighed in pleasure at the expanse of unmarked skin on display. “So beautiful.”

  Trailing one fingertip in a tender side-to-side contact across her shoulders, he watched the rising goose bumps chase his touch, muscles sliding across her bones as they flexed in tiny, involuntary movements. “You want this?” He stopped in front of her again, hips squared to her shoulders, hard dick bouncing only inches from her mouth. “Me?”

  Wildman woke when a hand slipped around his hip, nails dragging across the skin of his thigh, fingertips plucking at his sac. Quick as a snake, he gripped the wrist and twisted to his back, somehow already knowing who he’d see. The brunette pushed up on an elbow, head cradled in her hand. There was no smile on her face when she greeted him softly. “Hey, Wildman.”

  He studied her in the low light, finding only confidence and determination in her eyes. Not a bit of shame or fear, and that struck him like lightning—because in his gut, he knew she was here in his bed of her own wishes. Not because she wanted to wrest some secret from him, or because she thought him her new captor and wanted to earn her way into his good graces on her back, but because she’d found a hunger in her gut matching whatever she’d seen in him.

  The sense of ownership from the dream had carried over, and he found himself reaching out to grip the hank of her braided hair. She let her body shift at the silent demand, movements flowing to tip her head back and give him a view of her throat, the strong, pale column bearing some other man’s marks. A need to possess her rolled through him, and he asked the question from his dream in a voice gone to gravel and darkness. “You want this?”

  Her mouth opened, but no words escaped, just a low, keening whine as she breathed faster. The pulse in her throat beat hard, pounding at her skin in an effort to escape. A burning desire to see her under him like this, wordless, with her sumptuous ass in the air, accepting whatever he gave her, stretched his patience to the limit.

  He set his teeth, lips lifting in a snarl. “You came to me, girl. Came to my bed. Now—” He used his grip on her hair to bring her close. “—you tell me you want this. Give me your words, because in this bed, with me right now, I gotta know this is something you choose.”

  She blinked back tears he’d caused with his rough handling of her hair, staring into his face as her pink tongue slipped out, leaving a swipe of moisture behind. The movement wasn’t an effort to seduce but a delaying tactic, because, from the lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, it seemed she suddenly wasn’t certain she’d picked the right play. Even so, she nodded slowly, head moving only slightly, the tug of the braid not enough to tear free of his grip.

  Not giving an inch on the demand, he curled his hand around the back of her neck and snatched her head down until her lips hovered just over his. “You had to say the words.” Speaking slowly and distinctly, he laid it all out for her. “I needed clear consent for what I want to do to you.” He darted his head up until he could bite her bottom lip hard, not enough pressure to bleed, but firmly enough so she’d feel the sting for hours. With a final hard twist of his teeth on her flesh, he shoved her away and fell to his back on the mattress. “Not good enough.”

  Breasts heaving, she lay beside him. “Yes, this is my choice.”

  Too late.

  “Shoulda said that about half a minute ago. Go on.” Staring at the ceiling, he made a casual stirring motion with one hand. “Get outta here.” She sucked in a wet breath, and he groaned at his brain’s instant idea of her making a similar noise around his cock, mouth full of him as he roughly fucked her throat. “Dammit, girl.”

  He flung the covers off, the slight chill creeping against his skin not mattering to his dick, rock hard with wet trailing down the head. Hand wrapped around his cock, he glared sideways at the wall as he gave himself a stroke, slow and tight, fingers following well-memorized movements to end with a tight cuff at the base, using pain to beat back desire. She remained silent, and her continued lack of engagement pissed him off more. “If you don’t leave, then how am I supposed to take it? Huh? I asked and you didn’t answer, and now this is what you’ve left me.”

  The mattress shifted, and her hand curled around his hip to join his on the next downstroke as he groaned again.

  “Take it as me being lost in the moment. By the time I found my voice, you’d closed the door.” Her tone was low, naturally sultry, an edge of apology in her words. The change in tension underneath him revealed her movements as she crept closer to his side, each shift slow, as if uncertain of her welcome. “Gotta give me a minute to catch up, big guy.” Her fingers tightened around him, and he let his hand fall away, giving her free rein of his cock. “Good Lord, you’re just big everywhere, aren’t you?”

  Wildman rolled his head to look at her with a smirk. He liked she might be willing to tease and play, loved how she’d taken the initiative to turn things around after a near-disastrous false start, so he decided to reward her. “An
d you’re talking entirely too much.” He lay back on the bed and gripped her braid more gently than before, steering her head down and across his body. She kept her balance easily, gracefully, lips already open. “Suck,” he ordered, hips lifting with the word. “Suck me off.”

  No argument from her before she gobbled him down, the wet and hot cavern of her mouth around him, cinching tight around his shaft as her head started the timeworn bobbing dance between his legs. He groaned quietly, feeling his balls already starting to tingle. She quickly fell into a perfect rhythm. Firm strokes from her fingers, tight suction from her mouth, and the teasing play of tongue all over him combined to be devastatingly effective, his cock growing impossibly harder. Like a heartbeat, she took him with a steady pace, moans interrupted by gagging noises as he thrust up and fucked deeper and deeper, forcing himself into her throat for several suspended breaths at a time.

  Her hips shifted, and she rolled to her knees, balancing herself over his crotch with elbows out wide. Experimentally he released her hair, giving control back to her, and was pleased when she fought her own gag reflex to take him beyond what he’d pushed for so far.

  Fuck yeah, she’s outstanding. Time to praise her and see how she responded. “Goddamned good, baby.” The brunette moaned around his cock and redoubled her efforts. Mmhmm, somebody liked that.

  Hands now free, he reached over and grabbed her apple ass, yanking her closer to where he lay. The hand between her legs found her wet to the touch, soaked through, and naked as the day she was born—no panties, not even a string of floss up her crack to get in the way of his play. Came to me ready. Wildman smiled, knowing if she could see the expression on his face, she would have scrambled away, escaping as fast as she could, because this expression wasn’t about pleasure. It was without humor, filled with teeth and the promise of pain.

  “You like a little rough play?” She made a muffled sound in response, arching her back as he flicked a fingertip between her labia, coming close to her clit. “I’m gonna play, and if you want to stay with me tonight, you’re gonna take it, hear?” His mind tried to argue, reminding him of her recent experiences by bringing up the image of her offering herself in exchange for the safety of the women at her back. I didn’t take what she offered then, and she knew I could. She wouldn’t be in his bed if she weren’t up for whatever he threw at her.

  He lifted his shoulders from the bed and angled towards her. He wouldn’t be eating pussy tonight, not after where he’d found her, and knowing how likely it was she’d been taken unwilling, but he could play. Mouth to her hip, he tested her limits, setting his teeth deep enough to leave a bruise. She instantly squealed but just as immediately pressed into the pain, not away. Wildman moved his mouth, shifted a half an inch to leave overlapping marks, and bit again, harder, and gained the same result. A fast stiffening of her body, a wild sound far back in her throat, and then her adjusting closer to him, offering even more of herself to his ministrations.

  With his middle finger, he circled her entrance, then shoved inside to find a well of wet there. “Fuckin’ drenched.” Plunging in and out, he added a second finger and watched as the liquid trailed down the insides of her thighs. Bitch is turned right the fuck on. “Wanna fuck you now.”

  As if he’d touched a cattle prod to her, she pulled off him and whirled, ass to the bed, and head pointed away, making it easy for him to climb on top if that’s what he wanted. He watched her hips shift and sway, breasts bouncing with every hard breath, nipples drawn into tight peaks. He sat up and reached for a condom, hissing as he palmed his wet cock before rolling it on. Dark hair in a cord beside her head, hands in tight fists up above her shoulders, her pale body was laid out before him, legs akimbo with knees bent, sex glistening wetly. This was a conditioned response, one he’d seen from many a pain slut in the clubs, and one that promised him hours of pleasure if he’d gotten it right.

  He shifted to his knees, looming over her as he asked, “You get off on sex, rough sex, or do you need the pain?”

  “I need the pain,” she told him honestly, not moving an inch to get away. “Sex is good, but I need the pain.”

  “You okay with being marked up a little?” He pressed his fingertips to the teeth marks already in place on her hip. Her neck arched as he dug in deeper. She quivered under his touch, and he smirked. “I don’t want no cops comin’ in and bustin’ down my door in a couple of days over bruises if you’re gonna freak out.”

  Her hips lifted, and the lips of her pussy twitched. Wildman knew she’d just clenched hard at the thought of him bruising her more. When she didn’t answer, he pushed, asking again, “Well? You good with it?”

  “I won’t freak out. Just under my clothes, okay?” He hummed in agreement, because as negotiations went, her ask was completely reasonable. They’d gone from zero to a hundred miles an hour in a few short minutes, but this familiar back-and-forth was calming. She told him she felt the same way with her next words. “Not my first rodeo.”

  “No, I didn’t expect it was.” He was poised on the mattress. “Lift your legs, hands behind your knees.” She complied, and he smiled at her, chuckling when her pupils dilated wider, blackness edging out the ring of grey. Without another word, without asking about any in-the-moment change of consent or any kind of fucked-up shit like that, he took his dick in hand and lined up with her entrance.

  No turning back now.

  The first tearing plunge inside her already had his balls pulling tight to his body, and he bent his head, teeth latching to one tit, biting down. She was wet through and through, and that helped him slide deep, but he didn’t give her any time to adjust or stretch, forcing himself on her. Goddamn, she’s tight as fuck. Hopefully she hadn’t been violated by the cartel guards.

  Her legs bounced up and down distractingly, and he reached a hand back and slapped her ass hard. “Wrap ’em around me.” Let’s see how she does with a little permission versus direction. “You’re allowed to fuck me back.” She shifted underneath him as her heels hooked behind his ass and her pussy lifted, hips tilting up. The next stroke was easier, his cock sliding deeper, the next round of push-and-pull even more slippery. “Goddamn, woman, fucking excellent. Do that again.” He bit down once more, overlapping his teeth with the bruise he could already see forming, wanting to leave her another pair of linked rings to take with her as evidence of his possession. Pulling back, he watched her face as he slapped her ass, the sharp crack of sound not overriding her moan of pleasure.

  Between fucking and spanking her, he’d worked up a sweat by the time she tightened down around him, offering a breathy request. “I need to come.” He set his teeth in her earlobe, pushing a hand far underneath her, lifting her for another jackrabbited slapping of flesh on flesh. In a rising tone, she begged, “Please.”

  It was the plea that did it, and Wildman growled his permission through clenched teeth. “Come for me.”

  She’d stayed wet through everything he’d done to her, rivulets of her fluids running down the crack of her ass. He rolled his finger in the wetness, using it to coat his digit before he took her ass deep, hooking his finger around the ring of muscle and pulling hard. “God,” she cried out, head tipping back, and he couldn’t stop himself. Up on one elbow, he fit the fingers of his free hand over those bruises on her neck and gripped tightly, her pulse thudding heavily against his thumb as he constricted his hold. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and he gave her a sip of air before clamping down again. She stiffened as she came, mouth open in a soundless cry, and he plowed faster, hips beating at hers as he fucked her apart underneath him.

  As if struck by the same lightning that had flashed through the sky at their meeting, he followed her over, finger still deep in her ass as he stayed propped up on his elbow and stared down at her. She had overlapping ornaments of bruises on each breast, deep enough to bring blood to the surface in places, her shoulders bore his marks, and now his bruises completely covered the ones some asshole had left on her. His cock pulsed, and he
ground himself against her, coming hard, filling the condom in a flood of heat and satisfaction.

  Fucking mine.

  ***

  Justine

  As she curled in his sheets, so many muscles in Justine’s body were wrung out, alternately cramping and shaking. He’d held her close for a few breaths after he’d finished coming, then climbed off and arranged her like this before stalking away. She’d had enough uninspired bouts of aftercare to know what would be coming next. Once he finished cleaning up, he’d be back to ask some basic questions, then shoo her off to her borrowed room for the rest of the night. I had high hopes for him. She swallowed down her disappointment, keeping her gaze fixed on the shadowy details on the far side of the room as she waited for her dismissal.

  A warm hand on her shoulder was a surprise; so was the gentle tug to turn her on her back. Wildman held a warm, wet cloth and used it to wipe the sweat from her face and neck, curling around to get the nape where heat had gathered underneath the heavy braid of hair. He methodically cleaned her body, shoulders to hips, then tenderly parted her legs. The cloth had cooled, but it didn’t matter. The level of care carried its own sense of warmth as he wiped away all evidence of her pleasure, unashamedly delving into her crack as a last movement.

  “Turn back on your side, baby.” His hands gently adjusted her position again, finishing with a slow stroke of his palm down the length of her spine. “I’ll be right back.”

  The weight of the air in the room changed, and light speared in through the doorway. She watched him walk into the hallway, jeans pulled to his hips, button left undone. He turned to the left and disappeared from view.

  He’d be back, and the subtext was he expected to find her here in his bed when he returned. Her role was easy and simple, and knowing his expectations allowed her mind to stay quiet as she waited.

  Justine let her lids slip closed, the pleasant buzzing from the orgasm still swirling through her body, nerves tingling from nipples to clit as she ran each moment of their encounter back through her mind. She’d thought he’d be good, but damn, Wildman had been good. She breathed in for a count of three, releasing the air through pursed lips before pulling in another deep breath.