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“I need,” she whimpered, her head shaking back and forth, her sentence left unfinished.
My angel never failed to surprise me. She caved way sooner than I would have given her credit for. Too bad for her, I wasn’t done with her yet. I backed off again, and this time she rewarded me with a snort. Now we were getting somewhere.
My eyes peeked over the top of her mound as I dove back in, my tongue continuing to swirl around her bundle of nerves. Her arms stretched taut, and her tits bounced in time, their peaks rigid and begging for attention. If there was a heaven, this moment was my version of it.
“Please,” she panted, her body still twisting against her bonds. “I’ll do anything.”
Well, she did ask nicely this time. At least, that was what I told myself. It had nothing to do with my desire to feel her pussy cream all over on my tongue.
She’d been teetering on the edge for long enough that when I inserted two fingers at once and curled them as I fucked her, she exploded on my tongue. It was pure nirvana to taste her, watch as her back bowed and her bonds tightened, hear her hoarse voice screaming my name. I might even be willing to let her get away with thinking she could give other men a show. At least temporarily.
The skin of her stomach was soft and warm under my lips, the muscles in her stomach dipping as I moved up her still shaking body. Her little gasps and sighs were the backdrop to the symphony my tongue was painting on her skin. Now and then, I would stop to nip at her skin with my teeth, just hard enough to leave behind a mark, but not hard enough to do any permanent damage.
She let out a moan. Every. Single. Time. They were my favorite. Ok, that was a lie, hearing her scream my name when she came was my favorite, but her moans were a real close second.
Her arms stretched taut as she whimpered, shoving her beautiful tits further into my mouth. My teeth worked her hard nub of flesh, the sting of my bite quickly soothed away by the lap of my tongue. The little breathless sounds of pleasure escaping from her lips were driving me to the brink of madness. My hard cock wept against the top of her mound, demanding entrance.
Sinking into her wet heat, feeling her wrapped around me, holding me tight, was suddenly all I could focus on. I couldn’t ever remember being this hard before in my life, wanting a woman the way I wanted her. Not wanted, needed. It went well beyond want.
Her pussy tightened around the head of my cock as I sank inside her, a tingle already starting in my spine. Fuck, she felt good. I looked down, watching as her pussy stretched around my cock, more and more of me disappearing inside of her.
A hoarse moan broke free from her chest, the sound a mix of lust and need, snapping the last of my control like a twig. My hips thrust forward, my cock filling her to the brim. Consumed, I pulled out, only to slam back in. Her pussy clamped down around me, her come coating her thighs as she screamed my name, but it wasn’t enough.
Over and over, I rammed my cock into her tight little channel, watching her head thrash from side to side on the pillow as her tits bounced. I wanted her to know who owned her pretty little pussy. Who made her come. Hours later, I wanted her sore pussy to be a constant reminder that she was mine.
Her moans and cries reached a fevered peak, and my balls grew tight knowing she was about to come again with me. With one last thrust, my cocked jerked, and I emptied inside of her, the sound of my name being ripped from her chest only heightening the pleasure.
Hunter had messed up every one of my carefully laid plans, starting with my resolve not to get into bed with the Mafia. Now, as I trudged downstairs to my work haven, I contemplated my options. If I went to the strip club, despite Hunter’s warning, I’d probably get noticed before I even had the chance to find their computer, let alone hack into it.
That only left sneaking into the club to get the job done, and that was problematic. Stella and Tweak would notice my absence during the day, and Hunter was a light sleeper. He’d probably drag me back to bed and punish me before I even reached the first set of stairs.
Goose bumps broke out along the flesh of my arms at the thought. Jesus, was I fucked-up. My sister’s freedom hung in the balance, our lives were in danger, and here I was thinking with my lady parts. Again. I’d gone from a lack of sex drive to an overload. How had I let this happen? Things had gotten way out of hand, and if I didn’t get my shit together soon, I’d get both of us killed.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard “Square Hammer” coming from the garage. Ghost was a favorite of mine, and flashes of the band’s video played in my head as I walked down the hall.
The song reminded me of something Marco had said yesterday. He’d called himself a ghost, and a ghost’s identity remained hidden. They could move around undetected. Pretty handy when your brother was the face of the cartel.
The brothers were opposites. Flip sides to the same coin who worked together, with no one being the wiser. Maybe I didn’t need to worry about breaking into the strip club after all. If I could give the DEA the largest drug cartel in Mexico, they wouldn’t need The Deviants. Sure, the club would be out of business, but that was better than them rotting away in jail.
I’d be marked as a traitor and have to enter the witness protection program alongside my sister. She’d be pissed, but safe. That was the important thing. Nothing would change with Hunter and me. We were doomed. He would hate me either way, but at least I’d have the comfort of knowing that I could spare him. That he was out there somewhere, walking around, free. Just not with me.
Brandy’s old middle school blended seamlessly into its surroundings with its perfectly manicured lawn, rows of shrubs, and crop of trees that ran along the back side. Bark and forest colored brick seemed as far from natural as you could get to me, but I was no architect. Kids probably learned better in a sterile, conforming, bland environment like this.
The halls were quiet, kids already in their assigned classrooms. Tan linoleum floors gleamed underneath my combat boots and when I opened the glass door to the front office, the florescent light hit me like a ray of sunshine. A woman with a graying bun and a pinched face slid her glasses down her nose to stare at me. Smiling and sucking up weren’t my bag of chips, and I instantly regretted not bringing Tweak along. He’d have this old broad singing like a canary in seconds.
Schools tended to freak out about guns being drawn, so I needed to use alternative methods. My face felt weird when I pasted on the most charming smile I could muster. God, how did Tweak do this shit all the time?
“Can I help you, young man?”
She was already on my nerves with her screechy voice, and I reminded myself that slitting her throat wasn’t an option.
“My wife, Brandy Smith, and her twin sister, Cherry, went to school here. I wanted to surprise her with a slideshow I’ve been working on for her birthday, and I was hoping you could fill in a few gaps.”
It was a hell of a lie, and I admit I even surprised myself by maintaining my fake-ass smile.
She raised a graying brow, and I bet she scared the shit out of the kids who went here. “We don’t give out personal information.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement and twisted my head to the side. The woman frozen in the doorway reminded me of my girl even though physically they were worlds apart. It was all in how she carried herself. That mixture of shy and confident was rare, and I couldn’t even tell you why I found it captivating. Hell, maybe Tweak was right, and I had a thing for librarians.
