Chapter 36 Bane
Bane
We both sleep after Slade’s gut-wrenching recount of what she survived.
When I wake, the urge to hunt down every living descendant of the Vanderall line is overwhelming.
Antwane is dead—thank fuck for Slade’s sake—but I want him to be resurrected just so I can skin him alive and then drop him, inch by slow inch, into boiling oil.
But since I can’t do that, then I want his entire lineage to pay for his sins.
They’re not innocent—not his parents or brother, his grandparents, or any his extended family.
Someone had to have known Antwane’s ‘unfortunate proclivities,’ as Theodore Vanderall, the elderly patriarch of the family, had called it during an international news conference back when everything had come out about his serial killer grandson.
I’m sure that those media scrums were one hundred percent damage control, not an expression of authentic remorse.
I just need to find the proof.
Without bringing the Havoc Guardians into the Vanderalls’ crosshairs, not to mention onto the radar of the DOD or any of the other federal alphabet agencies.
Rolling onto my back, I heave a breath and feel Slade’s gaze on the side of my face.
Turning my head, I meet her beautiful green eyes.
Gratitude slams into me; not just because she’s letting me inside her walls and I’m lying beside her in her bed, but because those beautiful green eyes are luminous.
The light is coming back; each time she feels with me, it’s there, burning stronger and brighter.
“Do you understand now why I only came back to say goodbye? And why you need to let me leave?” Her voice is soft, and she pushes up to rest on her elbow and looks down at me. “You need to convince Ash to let me leave, Bane.”
The fuck I will.
“If I had my way, you’d be in my bed twenty-four-seven,” I say, part in truth and part because I want her surge of anger to push forth and shatter the last of that fucking numbness that I hate her feeling.
Scooping her into my arms, I roll us so she’s on her back with me bracing my weight on my elbows as I cage her in, loving the surge, not just of her anger but lust with my words.
“You’re deflecting,” she accuses, but she wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me tighter against her pussy.
I’m happy to accommodate her silent demand, so I press down with my hips to give more pressure. “It’s a useful strategy.”
“It won’t work.” But even as she says it, she’s rocking her hips and working herself against my iron-hard dick.
“Hmm. I think you’re lying.”
She shakes her head. “Not even a little.”
“Is that so?” I circle my hips, and I bite back my smirk when her eyes start to roll back. “Do you want to use me again to make yourself come, baby?”
Instead of answering, she asks, “Where’s your cut? Your weapons?”
Her questions aren’t what I expected, but I don’t skip a beat, knowing she’s trying to distract me. “They’re on the chair in the corner. Do you want to try to shoot me?” I tease.
“Maybe.” Her voice is breathy and hot as hell.
“Who taught you to fight?” The question is out before I even consciously decide to ask it, and I silently curse because this could make her clam up and pull away.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t, though. Her eyes open, and I fall into the mischievous glint in them. “Make me come, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
“You said you missed orgasms. Is my girl’s cunt needy?”
Her lashes flutter at my filthy words. “Only for you.”
My heart soars. “Only for me, what?” I pause all movement against her pussy.
She wets her lips, and I’m assaulted with visions of her wrapping those plump lips around my throbbing cock.
Her mouth stretched wide as she takes me to the back of her throat, gagging as I push in even deeper.
I want to come down her throat, feeling her swallow while I’m still buried deep, then I want to come all over her tongue, lips, chin, and tits before I lose myself in her tight pussy as she screams my name.
“Only for me, what?” I hike my brow, telling her I’m still waiting.
“Only for you…daddy,” she whispers, breathy and needy. But then she frowns. “Why is that so ridiculously hot?”
Whenever the Bunnies tried calling me daddy, I hated it. Detested it.
But with Slade calling me that, it unlocked the kink. I’m familiar with this kink, as well as many others, since we do own and operate a kink club, so I explain the bit that I know about it.
“It can be part of a BDSM lifestyle and a dominant-submissive dynamic.”
Slade’s nose crinkles. “Hell no. I’m not into you going all raging dominant over me. You’re kinda caveman enough as it is.”
I shift my weight onto my right elbow as I look down at her. “It can be used even without BDSM or a formal kink structure or scenes.”
“Are you some fetish teacher or something?”
Laughter rumbles through me. “No. I’ve learned a lot from Army.”
“I knew that guy was a kinky fucker,” she mutters.
“That he is.” I rub my thumb over her lips.
“Using the term daddy, though, outside of a BDSM lifestyle, can still be arousing—I think we’ve both discovered that.
” I lean down and take her bottom lip into my mouth, sucking and lapping it with my tongue until she’s squirming.
“It’s more about the vibe for us, I think. ”
“You do have BDDE.” She squirms again, trying to get more pressure against her pussy.
My hand skates down the graceful column of her throat and down to her breast. On the path, I feel a thick scar, but I don’t let it distract either of us. I cup her breast—the perfect handful—and wish I could undress her and worship her how she deserves, but I know I need to take my time.
She arches into my touch, and I feel her hard nipple under her shirt and bra.
“What’s BDDE?” I ask.
Her eyes open, and they’re hazy and lust-drunk. “What?”
“What’s BDDE?” I brush my thumb over her nipple.
She gasps at the sensation. “Big dick daddy energy.”
I grin. “I can’t deny that.”
“I know,” she says, and my cocky grin falters when she cups my rigid dick over my jeans. “This thing could probably be used to chop through a door.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Well, a battering ram at the very least.”
I brush my mouth over hers, loving that I get to kiss her, and thankful I saved something of myself to be just hers. “If you’re ever ready and gift me with making love to you—”
“Making love?” She shakes her head. “You don’t do that.”
“With you, I would. And if that time comes, I won’t hurt you.
” I kiss her softly. “And maybe that’s the root of our daddy dynamic.
Besides it being dirty as hell and turning us on, I’m your defender, your protector.
I’ll always take care of you, and to do that, I take control in a possessive, primal way.
And for you, it’s about knowing you can trust me.
I’m your safe place where you can let your guard down because you know you have someone who has your back, will guard your front, and who will also walk beside you through those fires of hell. ”
“Bane.” Her eyes well. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be for when I need to leave.”
My thumb gathers the tears that bead on her lashes, then I suck them off my thumb, staring down at her. “You’re not leaving, Slade. This is your family, and we won’t abandon you again.”
“Don’t do this.” Her words are a plea.
“Shh, baby.” I kiss up her neck. “Let me take care of you.”
Her breath shudders out, and she grips my wrist. At first, I think she’s going to fling it off her, angry at my stance that she’s not leaving, but then she guides it down over her breasts, down over her stomach, and lower still over her pussy.
I cup her over her leggings, and she rocks against my palm.
I let her chase her release until she’s squirming and needing more.
Then I slip my hand inside her leggings and panties, because even when she goes to bed, she wears clothing that will fully cover her scars.
I want to change that. Her scars aren’t shameful; they’re marks of a warrior, of how she conquered her demons.
Last night, she had let me feel the scar that travels from her stomach, down her hip, and angles toward her pubic bone when I finger-fucked her, and thankfully, she doesn’t stiffen when I touch it now.
She’s lost in her lust, and I’m completely fine with that. Feel, baby. Feel everything and retrain your mind and soul.
“You want to use me for your pleasure?” I press a finger inside her, and her wet, slick walls clench around it.
“God…” She arches. “Yes.”
“I’m going to edge you,” I warn, and thrust hard into her.
She grips my forearm. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
I flick my finger inside her at the same time as my thumb presses on her clit, and her moan is guttural and makes pre-cum leak from my throbbing dick. “It will make your orgasm even more intense.” I do the movement again. “It will ruin you in the best way.”
Her nails dig into my forearm, and her eyes are big and wide, pleading. “Please.”
“Hold nothing back from me.”
Then, I’m consuming her, working my finger hard in and out of her as she cups the back of my head and kisses me deeply.
As her walls clench and start to quiver, I stop, pulling her away from the edge of the cliff before I dive back in.
Her wetness coats my hand, and I work a second finger into her, marveling at her tightness.
Marveling at how she responds to me, how she pleads and begs for me to let her come. How she tells me what she needs.
After the fifth time of denying her orgasm, she’s panting, squirming, sweating, and has tears in her eyes.
“Please, Bane.”
I thrust back in and scissor my fingers, and she breaks the skin of my forearm with her nails.
“Holy fuck. Don’t stop. Whatever you’re doing… Don’t stop.”
Her body is taut and rigid, like a bow drawn back and set to be unleashed. I wish we were in my bedroom as it’s soundproof and I could let her screams fly, because no one gets to hear my woman’s pleasure.
I push a third finger in, stretching her, imagining it’s my cock that she’s going to convulse and spasm around.
“That’s it, baby.” I hammer into her. “Come for me.”
Her eyes open, and I fall into the light and emotion shining bright within them. “Bane. Please, I need to come. I need you.”
“Good fucking girl.” I twist and press my fingers to the front of her wall and rub her clit with my thumb.
It’s the detonation button.
I crash my mouth down on hers as her scream erupts and her walls clench. My cock pulses in time with the pulse in her pussy as I imagine filling her beautiful cunt with my cum.
Slade comes like an exorcism is being performed, ripping the demon out of her as her back arches and her muscles seize. Then the waves of the climax slam into her, bringing the rhythmic undulating waves of release as she comes and comes.
I ease two fingers out of her, leaving one to pump lazily into her, drawing her pleasure out and slowly bringing her back to earth.
Her expression is orgasm-drunk and sleepy. “Holy motherfucking shitballs.” She grins and closes her eyes.
And I grin as she completely passes out.