Chapter 30 Willow #2
The bare head of his dick works its way into me, and it feels amazing. My body is still a little sore from the other night, but it immediately stretches to accommodate him, the slick wetness of my arousal easing his way in.
“Please,” I groan, my fingernails digging into the leather of the couch. “Please, I need it. I need you.”
Ransom doesn’t make me wait. He bottoms out quickly, then sets a hard, fast rhythm, pounding into me like he can’t get enough of it.
His hands go to my hips, holding on tightly, and I gasp his name when his piercing hits a spot inside me that makes pleasure shoot through my body like a bolt of lightning.
I try to spread my legs wider for him, but I’m brought up short by the pants and panties still around my ankles, trapping me. Something about being restrained like this turns me on even more, and I whimper, sliding one hand downward to play with my clit.
“Fuck,” I gasp. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“I can’t get enough of you,” Ransom says. “Fuck, never enough. You’re so fucking good. You feel so fucking good.”
His voice is strained as he fucks into me deeper, each thrust making his piercings rub against my inner walls.
It’s enough to drive me crazy, to have me spiraling, closer and closer to detonating for him… .
And then, out of nowhere, his phone rings.
Ransom curses under his breath, and he doesn’t stop fucking me. Instead, he buries himself deep inside me, gripping my hip tightly with one hand to hold me still as he reaches over to grab his cell from where he set it on the back of the couch.
“Hey,” he says into the phone, his fingers digging into my flesh as he picks up the call. “Hold on.”
I try to stifle my moans, to keep myself quiet so that whoever is on the other end of this call can’t hear me—but with his cock filling up every inch of me, that’s one of those ‘easier said than done’ kind of things.
Ransom puts the phone on the back of the couch again, and I can hear from the background noise that he put it on speaker.
“Okay, go ahead,” he says. Now that both of his hands are free again, he grabs my hips even tighter, fucking into me with a long, deep stroke.
I bite my lip, dragging in a breath through my nose as Malice’s voice emerges from the phone speaker.
“We got one possible lead,” he says. “No one else was lining up to help us though. Probably all afraid of that bitch and not wanting to get involved.”
“Or they just didn’t have anything to offer,” Vic adds. “Not everyone in the criminal world has the resources or guts to go up against someone like Olivia, and we don’t need any dead weight.”
“Point is, we’ve got something to follow up on,” Malice says.
“Better than nothing,” Ransom tells him. Then he thrusts into me so sharply that it makes my mouth fall open, allowing a whimper to escape.
“What was that?” Malice asks. “Was that Willow?”
Ransom laughs and does it again, snapping his hips forward and burying his cock all the way to the hilt. “Say hi, pretty girl.”
I moan, shaking against the arm of the couch. “Fuck. Hi, Malice. Hi, Vic.”
There’s no way they can’t tell what we’re doing right now, and even if they couldn’t hear the moaning or the sound of Ransom’s hips hitting my ass, the wrecked sound of my voice would do it.
“Motherfucker,” Malice curses. “We’re out here doing the work, and you’re at home getting off.”
“I’ve earned it,” Ransom counters, laughing breathlessly.
“The fuck you have.”
Ransom squeezes my hip, bending down lower over my body. That presses his cock even deeper into me, and I whimper again, writhing under him.
“They’re on their way home now,” he says to me. “Should we show them what they’re missing here?”
All I can do is nod, breathless and too turned on to make coherent words come out right now. Something about knowing they’re listening to this, hearing the way Ransom fucks me so good, drives me crazy.
“Good girl,” he growls softly. “Let them hear you. Moan for them so they know how good I’m making you feel.”
Then he starts fucking me harder, setting an almost brutal pace and filling the room with the sounds of skin on skin.
The moans spill from my lips with ease as each hard thrust pushes me that much higher. It’s a garbled mix of gasps and cries and moans and pleas, and the sound of tires screeching from the phone proves that Malice has started driving faster.
I can’t help but laugh at that, adrenaline and desire rushing through me.
“Oh, you think it’s funny to torture us, Solnyshka? You won’t be laughing when we get there,” Malice promises, his voice husky. “You’re gonna be face down and ass up with my cock so deep in you that you’ll feel it for the next week. You’re gonna take it so good for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I moan. “Fuck, yes. Anything you want.”
Vic chuckles. “That’s a dangerous promise, butterfly. You know how Malice gets. And maybe while he’s fucking you, I’ll take my turn with your mouth.”
Dirty talk from Vic is always one of my favorite things in the world, and it sparks more heat inside me as I picture it. Malice buried in my pussy, his cock splitting me open in the best way. And Vic in my mouth, my lips wrapped around his thick cock, sucking him down.
“Please,” I beg, my body trembling as Ransom grabs my wrists and pins them against my lower back. “Please, I want that so much. I want you so much. All of you.”
“Goddammit, move,” Malice snarls, and it registers that he’s probably talking to someone on the road and not to us.
“We’re gonna make it happen. We’re gonna give you all you can take, Solnyshka—and then some.
But you like that, don’t you? When we push you.
When we take you right to the edge and then a little over it. ”
A strangled sound falls from my lips. “Yes.”
“She does.” Pride fills Ransom’s voice. “You should see how fucking good she looks right now. Her ass is red from the pounding I’ve been giving her, her back arched so perfectly, hair all splayed out on the couch cushions. Like a dirty angel.”
He adjusts our positions a little as he speaks, and now my clit grinds against the arm of the couch every time he drives into me.
“Fuck!” I cry out. “Oh my god, I’m so close. I’m gonna—”
Before I can get another word out, the pleasure is slamming through me. It steals my breath as wave after wave of sensation hits me hard. All I can do is scream, twisting and arching on the couch, bucking back against Ransom and dragging his cock even deeper.
Ransom ends the call with a curse of his own, focusing on his own pleasure now. He grabs my hips hard and drags me back into each thrust, not giving me even a second to breathe.
“God,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good. So fucking tight. I can’t get enough of you and this perfect pussy. Fuck!”
He hits his peak and spills inside me, filling me up with a hot rush. His hips press tight to my ass, and he’s as deep as he can go, riding out the wave of his orgasm. Every pulse of his pierced cock feels incredible, and I whimper wordlessly when I feel a little trail of cum sliding down my thigh.
He releases my wrists and then pulls out, leaving me sprawled over the edge of the couch like a melting popsicle.
I lie there, too worn out to move yet, trying to catch my breath. For the first time since yesterday morning, I feel happy and sated, content that even if things are spiraling out of control in some ways, at least I still have this.
Ransom presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Malice is gonna fucking kill me for that. But it was so damn worth it.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it definitely wa—”
My voice breaks off as a shrill alarm rises up from the other room.
The office.
Ransom straightens, his entire demeanor changing in an instant. All the loose, sated energy is gone, replaced by the man who can be just as deadly as his brothers.
“Fuck,” he curses. “That’s one of Vic’s alarms.” In a smooth motion, he reaches under the coffee table, where they’ve stashed a gun in case of emergencies. “Get in the bedroom, angel, and lock the door. Now!”
I scramble off the couch, but before I can move any further than that, the sound of footsteps echoes in the hall outside.
Then the door explodes inward, kicked off its hinges.
“Fuck,” Ransom curses.
He reacts immediately, shoving me down behind the couch as he levels his gun at them.
He fires off two shots, diving out of the way as they return fire.
He ends up behind the large chair set off to one side of the couch, taking cover behind it and shooting toward the intruders again, trying to keep them pinned down near the doorway.
My pulse jackhammers as I struggle against my clothes, which are still twisted up around my ankles.
We’re under attack.
The men haven’t let me leave the penthouse in days, and Olivia clearly got tired of waiting for me to emerge and sent someone in after us. More than one someone. There are three of them, which means we’re outnumbered.
“Willow, stay down!” Ransom calls, firing again. I can’t see what’s happening near the door, since my view is obscured by the couch, but I hear a crash and then heavy footsteps. Two more shots cut through the air, and then a masked man appears around the edge of the couch.
He raises his weapon, pointing it right at me.
Time seems to freeze for a second as I look down the barrel of the gun—and then another shot rings out.
I flinch, braced for the pain and the impact… but there’s nothing. His gun falls to the floor, landing with a heavy thud, and he follows it a second later, crumpling to the carpet like a sack of rocks.
More gunshots are punctuated by shouting voices, and then the room goes quiet, leaving only the sound of my blood rushing in my ears.
“Motherfucker,” someone curses.
I almost weep with relief at the familiar voice.
Malice. He and Vic are back.