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“It’s something we should discuss, yes,” Kavanagh tells her, and she turns away in exasperation, throwing her hands up in the air. “Now isn’t the time though.” And with that he leaves too.
“This is bullshit. I can’t believe you think this is a good idea, Maddox.”
“You’re not thinking straight, Roxanne, and letting your emotions cloud your judgement.”
“Well, excuse me for giving a fuck. We can’t all be emotionally… No, you know what, screw you.”
The scraping of chair legs on the floor stops me from what I was about to say, and we all turn to see that Smithy is still here, although looking a little uncomfortable but amused.
“I think I’m just going to leave you all to it,” he says, striding from the room.
“I know what you were going to say, Roxanne, but you’re wrong. So very fucking wrong.” I step toward her. “How about you get your arse upstairs and I’ll show you exactly how fucking wrong.”
She raises her chin, looking me in the eye. “You can’t just brush this aside with sex, Maddox. You have to understand that I’m not prepared to risk Star after just getting her back.”
“And I’m not asking you to, but she is. Don’t let your need to protect her blind you to what she needs to move past years of being shielded, hidden, never being allowed to be who she really is. I’d think you of all people would understand what that’s like.”
Her eyes widen, but before she can reply Zak steps up beside us. With a finger beneath her chin, he turns her head his way and lays a soft kiss to her lips.
“You know what he’s saying makes sense, Rox. But I’m done with talking tonight.” He tightens his grip on her chin, turning her face to me, then leans down and whispers in her ear, “I heard Maddox when he promised to rail your arse earlier, but what he forgot to mention is how while he’s deep in your pretty, tight arse, you’re going to be riding my dick.”
Her eyes darken and pupils dilate as he talks, and I know that while tonight’s revelations are still on her mind, they’ve been pushed to the back for now.
ChapterTwenty
Zak
Ilead Rox upstairs, and while I know that she’s mad beyond anything at finding out that James Whitmore is one of the main players involved in a child sex ring, one which sold her sister, I also know that she needs an outlet. This time one that doesn’t involve violence.
She needs to feel connected, needs a reminder that even though her chains have been shattered and fallen away, she’s still Rox, she’s still human and she can still love. Love isn’t just about making the easy decisions that keep your partner happy, they mean making the difficult ones too. The ones that invariable endanger you and the ones you love.
Maddox and I aren’t emotionally dead like she thinks, we are just more practical and think about the bigger picture. That bigger picture right now involves burying myself in her pussy.
When we pass Maddox’s room, she asks, “Where are we—” Her words cut off as Maddox lands a slap to her arse. It’s hard enough to echo through the empty corridor, and she spins round to face him.
He has an amused grin on his face as he wraps a hand round her throat and slams his lips down on hers. I open my bedroom door, and move inside, walking backwards so I can witness Maddox devouring Rox’s mouth as he steers her inside my room with only the grip on her throat. Closing the door behind them, I move to my wardrobe and open one of the three doors.
I hear a small inhale of breath behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see Maddox has faced Rox my way, his hand cupping her chin from behind with a thumb running over her bottom lip and his other hand trailing down her body, over her breasts to the button of her jeans. I move to the side giving Rox an unobstructed view of the contents.
“Are you ready for your punishment, Roxanne,” Maddox growls in her ear, popping her jean button open. Her only response is a breathy groan as he slides his hand in, and she tilts her hips and widens her legs as he obviously pushes a finger inside her.
Quickly looking back to the array of toys in front of me, from vibrators to paddles and whips, I find just the right thing for Rox and take it down. Turning back around, I’m greeted by Rox sucking Maddox’s thumb, swirling her tongue around the tip, while he finger fucks her. Her muffled, pleading whimpers have me snatching at my own trousers, undoing them and pulling my cock free just to give it a few tugs and relieve a little of the pressure. Pressure that’s been building since I saw her wielding a bat and inflicting pain.
“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you looked standing over Tommy with that bat at his knee and a gun pointed at his head?” I ask, as I stop in front of her. Maddox continues to fuck her with his fingers.
“Yes…aaargh!” she cries out as I tug at her top, freeing her tits and pinching a nipple. “I watched you…with Axel.” Her confession garners a growl from me as I lean forward and take her nipple into my mouth, biting down with a little force. I remember and the thought of her watching me and getting off on it sets my pulse fucking soaring.
Releasing her nipple with a pop, I raise the flogger and her eyes follow it as I pass it to Maddox, who is no longer holding her throat. He trails it across her nipple, which is peaked and glistening with saliva from my ministrations a moment ago, while I set to work on removing her jeans.
Once again, she’s wearing no underwear, and as I lower her jeans to the floor, I watch Maddox add another finger, making it three, as he pumps in and out of her, and her arousal runs down the inside of her leg. Casting her jeans aside, I lean forward and lick a trail up her silky thigh, lapping up her juices.
There’s a whoosh in the air, then the sound of leather on skin as Maddox strikes Rox’s taunt nipple with the flogger. She jolts at the sting and her groan turns into a needy pant.
He does it again and again, alternating between each breast, until she’s a panting mess and ready to come, then he stops it all and pulls his fingers free from her.
“Oh…fuck!” she whispers, her voice strangled with unrelieved pleasure.
“Bend over and touch your fucking toes, Roxanne,” he orders gruffly, the strain at holding himself back evident in his tone.
