Chapter 60 #3
The words hang in the air, ugly and intoxicating. Part of me, the part that’s been screaming for him since I saw him at that alley, wants to scream yes. The other part, the part that left this hellhole, is horrified.
“Do it,” I tell him, the words ripping out of my throat before I can stop them. I might be losing my mind. “Mark me.”
He stills. For a moment, I think he’s going to laugh, to call my bluff. He pulls out of me, the sudden emptiness a shock. He grabs my arm and yanks me upright, spinning me to face him. His eyes are wild, burning with a conflict I haven’t seen before.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for. You say that now, but tomorrow you’ll be crying to your soft little boyfriend about how I hurt you.”
“I’m not crying to anyone,” I shoot back, my chin jutting out defiantly. “I’m not a victim, Jax. I’m here because I want to be. I’m asking for this.”
He laughs. ”You don’t want this, Sisk. You want the idea of it. You want the memory of me to keep you warm at night, but you don’t want the reality. The reality is pain. The reality is me, owning you, even when I’m not there.”
“Then own me,” I whisper, the words a surrender. “Show me what it’s like. Show me you want me.”
He stares at me, his chest heaving, the war raging in his eyes. He wants to, I can see it. He wants to claim me, to ruin me for anyone else. But there’s a part of him that’s holding back, a sliver of the boy I used to know, the one who wouldn’t hurt me.
“Please,” I breathe, and it’s the please that breaks him.
“You can say scotch and I’ll stop.”
I nod.
His hand returns to my hip, his grip bruising.
He leans down, and his mouth is on me. His teeth sink into the soft flesh of my hip, hard enough to make me cry out, a sharp, blinding pain that melts instantly into a searing, throbbing heat.
He doesn’t let go, just holds the bite, a brand.
When he finally releases me, he licks the spot gently.
“There,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction.
“Now you’ll have something to remember me by. ”
Before I can catch my breath, two of his fingers push inside me. He pumps them a few times, coating them in my slickness before pulling them out. He brings them to his mouth, his eyes locked on mine as he licks them clean, one by one. “Still the best fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”
He spins me around fast, bending me over the bike again, positioning himself at my entrance, and in one brutal push, he’s deep inside me. I let out a whimper and he pulls back briefly, fighting for control.
I don’t want control. I don’t want to think.
My brain is screaming at me, listing all the reasons this is a catastrophic mistake, including the fact that I’m bent over a motorcycle in the dirt with the one man I swore I’d never see again.
Every thought is a landmine, and the only way to disarm them is to drown them out.
“You don’t have to be gentle,” I breathe, the words a desperate plea.
His head dips closer. “Do say scotch if it’s too much.”
I nod.
He thrusts harder and harder, the motion so violent I don’t know how the bike doesn’t tumble down. I have to hold onto it with all my weight. But it’s not enough, the thoughts are still there, scratching at the edges of the pleasure.
“Harder,” I grit out, begging for my brain to just shut the fuck up, begging for him to fuck me into oblivion so I don’t have to face the wreckage of my own choices.
He thrusts harder, relentless now, each slam a punishment and a reward. “Am I being too easy on you?” he growls. “Does this feel gentle?”
“No,” I groan, shaking my head.
“I could move to your ass if you want.”
I shake my head again, breath unsteady. “No. Not there.”
“Next time then,” he spits on my asshole and rubs it in with his thumb.
The world narrows to heat and impact and the sound of my own breathing breaking apart. His hand leaves my hip, sliding up my stomach and his fingers wrap around my throat. Every thrust drives me harder against his palm.
“Look at you,” he growls. “My bad rabbit, taking my cock so good.”
My hand slides down, desperate for more, my fingers finding my clit. I’m so close, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. And just as I’m about to shatter, his hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away from myself.
“No,” he grunts, pinning my arm behind my back. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
Seconds later, he finishes with a rough exhale, body going rigid behind me.
It’s over almost as quickly, he pulls away, dragging my clothes back into place like nothing happened, already composed.
I’m still trying to breathe, my body aching and screaming for a release that never came. I think about mentioning I didn’t get to finish when I see the smug smile.
“Thanks, fuck buddy.”
“You son of—”
“What?” he cuts in lightly. “You wanted something too?”
I spit straight at him.
He laughs, but instead of wiping it away, he catches the trail on his thumb and brings it to his mouth, his eyes locked on mine as he licks it clean. “Come on,” he says, kicking the engine alive. “Let’s get you back to Lucas.”