There was no foreplay, no gentle caresses, no warning. The moment my hands hit the seat cushion to brace myself, he pushed himself inside of me. “Oh, shit,” I breathed and dug my nails into the couch. He was big, and it burned. But I needed it to hurt, to be savage without an ounce of feelings involved.
His fingers dug into my hips as he roughly slammed into me over and over. The only sounds breaking the silence around us were the slap of his skin hitting mine and the involuntary grunts escaping from me. Until he started talking.
“This what you wanted?” he demanded, punctuating each word with a thrust.
“I-I,” I gasped, earning a sharp slap to my ass. “Yes!”
“That pussy was begging for a rough fuck,” he said and slapped the other cheek. He leaned over me and lightly bit down on my shoulder. With his mouth still pressed to my skin, he asked, “You want more?”
Did I? I wasn’t sure what ‘more’ entailed, but I was too far into it to care. “Yes,” I moaned.
“Beg for it.”
I pushed up on my arms and turned my head to tell him he could fuck right off, but the words died in my throat when he wrapped his hand around my neck and started to squeeze, all the while he maintained his rhythm. I began to panic, thinking I’d made the ultimate mistake.
“Please don’t,” I squeaked.
The hand around my throat moved up to squeeze my jaw and turn my head. He locked eyes with me and, without uttering a single word, I knew he wouldn’t really hurt me. Keeping his eyes on mine, he slid his hand from my jaw to my throat and started to squeeze again. He applied more pressure as his hips moved faster. It was too much. I couldn’t handle it.
“Come,” he ordered and tightened his hold for a brief, terrifying second before sheer ecstasy overtook every sense of my being.
I was still basking in the pleasure coursing through me when he groaned long and low. He stilled after he reached his climax but didn’t linger. I heard the sound of his zipper immediately after he pulled himself from my body. Then, he tossed the condom wrapper on the couch in front of my face and said, “Make better choices,” as he walked through the front door without a backward glance.
4
Savior
Iwalked back to the bar with one thought on my mind. What in the hell had I done?
“Where’ve you been?” Coal asked.
“Took a drunk girl home.”
Coal arched an eyebrow and studied me. “You look just like your dad right now.”
He sat back and rubbed his chin with his thumb and his forefinger. “How about now?”
I couldn’t stifle my laughter. “I’ve seen Copper do that, too.”
He smirked but continued to rub his chin. “So, you gonna share why it took you over an hour to walk a girl across the field out back and now you smell like sex?”
“Fuck,” I exhaled and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Didn’t mean to fuck her.”
Coal laughed and slapped the table. “You didn’t mean to fuck her? What kind of bullshit is that?”
I shrugged. “I meant it’s not why I took her home. It just happened.”
“You gonna see her again?”
“Nah. It wasn’t like that,” I said and changed the subject. “I haven’t seen shit going on in here, have you?”
“Not a thing. Either nothing’s going on, or people know who we are,” Coal suggested.
The next morning, I stopped at a gas station to fill up before heading to the clubhouse. I had just stepped out of my truck when I saw Oliver Burgess walking out of the gas station with a pack of cigarettes in his hand.
Pulling the knife from my belt, I took quick steps to the oblivious prick. He looked up when I threw my arm around his shoulders and pressed the blade to his side. “Oliver! Long time, no see!” I shouted, then lowered my voice. “Get in the truck and don’t give me any shit or I will gut you like a fish right where we stand.”
When he hesitated, I pressed the blade harder against his side. “I’m not fucking playing.”
