CHAPTER 7
LAIKEN
My body melts into Tripp and I give over all my stress and fear because I know he can handle it. The scream that was ripped out of me only a few minutes ago, felt and sounded like pure terror. Because it was.
I was minding my own business painting and thinking about the journal entry I had read about Desiree cursing the women who married into the Landry line.
The curse would force them to have the same fate as Blanche.
I’m not even at the end of the journal and have no idea how the whole thing ends, but the thought of women unknowingly marrying into a family to be cursed makes my fucking skin crawl.
When I turned slightly to grab some paint for my palette, Desiree was standing there and staring at me with a creepy smile on her face. I don’t even know how I knew it was her. Blanche described her, but it’s not like there was a fucking polaroid between the pages of her journal or anything.
But it was her.
Before I even knew how to react, she was reaching for me. Considering I knew, logically at least, she wasn’t real, I wasn’t expecting her to be able to touch me. But she did.
Her fingertips felt like ice against my skin and her touch grated against my senses. That’s when I screamed and jerked away from her. The action sent my easel, canvas, and paint pallet flying. Desiree’s smile widened with my reaction, as if it fueled and amused her.
I dropped down to the ground and curled in on myself, not wanting to see her.
Then Tripp found me.
I hated that I flinched when he reached for me, but all I could see was Desiree and the threat in her eyes. Once I realized it was him, it was as if I couldn’t get close enough to him.
Now in his arms, as he kicks the door of the room we’ve been using as a bedroom behind us, my pussy throbs and the fear which gripped me so tightly floats away. I’m no longer in that room; I’m no longer lost to the fear and the threat.
I only want one thing. I need it.
This man.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve gotten to know Tripp. I’m not sure if he meant to steal pieces of my heart every single fucking day, but he has. He’s made himself a part of my life because he’s just there. He’s there when I wake up and when I go to bed. He’s there all fucking day.
But I haven’t gotten sick of him. Instead, I find myself looking for him throughout the day.
And while he’s been there, he hasn’t hidden anything from me.
He’s shown and told me exactly who he is without apology and without remorse.
He’s told me all about his brothers and the club along with stories about him while growing up and throughout his life.
We know each other’s favorites along with dislikes.
While I didn’t really think it would happen, a small part of me was hoping the more I got to know Tripp, the more our attraction would fizzle out. It would have eliminated my need to take a chance and let him in, but it’s not what has happened.
The closer we’ve gotten, the more I wanted him.
But nothing has happened beyond chaste touches here and there. Just because every one of them felt like lightning didn’t mean it was more than it was.
And now he’s telling me he’s going to take me to bed and claim me?
Yes, fucking please.
I need it.
I need him.
“Tripp,” I moan, my body vibrating with need as he stalks closer to my air mattress.
He sets me down on my feet next to it and my knees almost immediately buckle with how fucking turned on I am. This man does something to me which should be illegal. And yet here we are.
“Strip,” he growls as he steps over to his air mattress and hauls it over until it’s right next to mine without taking his eyes off me.
This is messy and a little fucked up.
I love it.
My hands shake as I peel off the tank top I’m wearing, one that has a built-in bra which means my tits fall free the moment I pull it up and off my body. It falls to the ground with a whoosh which is echoed by a groan of approval from Tripp.
His eyes burn me with a sense of ownership I’ve never felt before. It feels like fire licking at my skin and I’m desperate for more.
When I unbutton my shorts and hook my thumbs into the waistband, Tripp is there, his calloused hands taking over and pushing the fabric down over my hips and then my legs. His movements are so deliberate that he takes my thong along with them.
I’m bare in front of him and not even a little bit self-conscious about it while he stands before me still fully clothed. I should want to hide myself, but I don’t. I want him to see. I want him to touch.
And touch he fucking does.
His fingertips skim down over my hip and upper thigh where a tattoo snakes over my skin, artwork I can wear and take with me wherever I go. The roughness of his fingertips makes me shiver with the way it contrasts against my softness.
His rough skin pulls against mine in the most delicious way. I never want the sensation to end.
I reach for him without even realizing it, pushing the leather cut, a word he taught me, off his shoulders gently. Even though the passion in my veins demands I let it fall to the floor, I stop myself and pull it from his body gently to place it on the end of the bed he’s just pushed closer to us.
When I look up into his dark eyes, the affection I see there hits me in the middle of my chest.
“You’re perfect, little Mischief-maker,” he rumbles. His hand comes up and his knuckles skim over my cheek. “I knew the moment I saw you that you would bring trouble along with a lot of fucking light into my life.”
“Sweet talker,” I rasp, my words full of sass while need has my body swaying closer to him. “I don’t want your sweet words right now, Tripp. I want you deep inside of me until I’m screaming your name.”
His eyes go fucking molten and then he’s a blur of movement as he pulls his clothes from his body and allows them to pool around him. I let out a screech of surprise when I’m scooped up into his arms before he gently drops down onto his knees on our makeshift bed.
As I’m laid out in front of him like a fucking offering, I squeeze my thighs together to try and get some friction because if I don’t then I’m not sure what I’m going to do.
His eyes take me in, not missing a single thing.
His large hands grip my inner thighs to pry open my legs.
When his gaze meets my glistening pussy, he licks his lips.
That should not be so damn hot.
“You want me inside of you, huh?” His question is a taunt, and I know it. We both do.
My back arches which presses my tits up and presents them to Tripp like they’re on a fucking platter. He lets out a sound, a mix of a grunt and a growl, before he crawls over my body until he’s hovering over my hard nipples and plump breasts.
They feel so fucking heavy with need and I almost can’t stand it.
When his warm, wet mouth covers one of my nipples, a moan rips from my throat and fills the desolate room around us.
The state of the room doesn’t matter, nothing but the sensation he’s causing in me matters.
His tongue lashes my hard peak, but I can feel it all over my body.
His hands glide up over my hips and to my ribs until he can hold me in place as my body jerks with how fucking good it feels. The only thing grounding me to the moment and preventing me from floating away is this man, my man, holding me down.
“Please,” I beg, my voice cracking with how on edge I am, “I need you, Tripp.”
He growls around my flesh and sucks as much as my breast into his mouth as possible before pulling off with a pop.
He dives onto my other breast with the ferocity of a beast. He doesn’t give into my pleading, but I can feel how much it costs him when I glide my hands up his back and over his shoulders.
Every muscle of his body is pulled tight.
He’s on the edge and about to lose control.
I want him to.
I need it.
When my legs wrap around his waist and I pull his hips against mine, the long and thick ridge of his cock nestles between my soaking wet pussy lips and his body trembles.
“Fuck,” he holds the word out, his voice husky and showing me just how close to snapping he is, “you’re soaked.”
“Only for you.”
His eyes blaze as his gaze snaps to mine. His dark eyes, filled with animalistic need, race between my own. I don’t know what he sees, but whatever it is has him grinding down against me, his length rocking against my clit in the most delicious of ways.
It sends me soaring into the sky, but I don’t want to soar. I want to crash. I want to tumble over. I want to be lost.
“Tripp,” I groan, “you need to fill me with your huge cock.”
He grins down at me before closing the distance between our faces. He’s right there, almost too close.
“Oh, I’ll be stretching your tight little pussy with my cock soon enough, my little Mischief-maker, but you need to know something first.” I blink up at him before my eyes roll back as the underside of his cock glides over my clit and sends pleasure streaking through my body.
He growls, “I’m taking you raw. I’ll always take you raw. I will not allow anything between us.”
My eyes snap up, and I meet his gaze. “I’m on the shot,” I rasp.
He smirks and nods once. “That’s fine,” he starts before adding ominously, “for now.”
My mind fucking blanks. I’ve never had a man talk to me the way Tripp is talking to me right now. I should be running for the hills. But I’m not.
I won’t admit it, but I like it. I’m practically fucking gushing with the knowledge that he wants to bury himself inside of me with nothing between us.
“Brace,” he grits out through his teeth, his lips brushing against mine as he does.
Then his cock is at my entrance, and he punches his hips forward in one hard and smooth motion, filling me with one thrust.
My back arches, as the walls of my pussy strains around his girth. He’s a big man. Honestly, I’m not fucking surprised.
Could you imagine a man of his size and stature not having the dick to back it up? What a shame it would be.
When he’s buried inside of me to the hilt, he takes a shuddering breath as I wrap myself around him, needing to be closer and yet knowing I’m not nearly ready for this ride. I don’t think I ever could be. It’s going to ruin me.
“Mine,” Tripp growls.
And then he begins to move.
Every thrust hits the perfect spot inside of me and my hips move to meet his, countering and giving, taking and demanding. It’s a dance we’ve never done before, but our bodies understand it. We give into the need that has been simmering between us since the moment we met.
I can’t deny it.
I don’t want to.
“Yours,” I moan, my back arching and pressing my tits against his tattooed chest.
My fingers dig into his shoulders, clawing with a desperation to not lose myself completely to this feeling.
But it’s useless and I know it.
“That’s it” he coaxes. “You’re going to cover my cock in your juices and then I’m going to fill you with my cum until it’s dripping out of your tender pussy and all over your thighs.”
Fuck, this man, and his mouth.
When I glance down at it, so sinfully pouty and so damn dirty, he slams it down against mine and steals my breath with a kiss. Our tongues tangle as our hips rock, every movement pushing us closer to oblivion.
Tripp reaches between us, his fingers finding my clit and he pinches. I scream into his mouth, the walls of my pussy clamping down around his cock as my arousal floods between us. He growls against my lips, never losing contact as he pummels his huge cock into me.
A few thrusts later, he buries himself as deep inside of me as possible and grunts out my name. I can feel every jet of his cum painting the inside of my walls. I’ve never felt anything so damn right.
“There’s no going back now, my little Mischief-maker,” he rasps against my lips. “You’re mine and I’m never letting you go.”
Before I can argue, or accept his claim, he’s kissing me again and my body lights up from the inside out. I’ve barely even started to come down from my orgasm and the sensation of his cum filling me, but I can feel pleasure lifting me up again. This man is otherworldly.
I have a feeling we won’t be sleeping for a long time and I’m looking forward to it. I need him and he’s more than willing to make my every desire come true.
The sensation of him starting to move slowly in and out of me, his cock still hard, has me gasping and my heels digging into his ass. Those sinful lips of his curl up into a smirk before he pulls away from me slightly.
“That’s right, Laiken,” he murmurs, his eyes so dark they’re practically black, “I’m not done with you yet.” His voice drops, the warning clear, “I’ll never be done with you.”
My heart pounds with the truth in his words. What he doesn’t know, what I’m almost afraid to admit to even myself is that I’ll never be done with him either.