I wrap a fist up in her hair and pull her in close. “Sounds like to me you’re the one who needs their ass tanned.”
“If you think you’re big enough,” she taunts and it’s taking every once of control I have not to show her who’s boss.
“You’re a brat, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” She grins then I kiss her smart-ass mouth.
Chapter 7
Death’s tongue slides against mine. Fire ignites in my belly and I put a palm to his neck, his pulse beating against my skin. “Fuck me, I’m never going to get enough,” he grits into my mouth, kissing me harder and deeper. I hit the couch and he spins me around, yanking my tee up as he jerks my panties down. I hear his zipper go then he’s pushing inside me like a demented savage.
Thwack. His palm stings my ass cheek. I cry out in shock and pleasure. “Always were a smart mouthed brat,” he growls, furry lips brushing along the shell of my ear, looming over me.
“Ah,” I pant when his teeth dig into the space between my neck and shoulder, marking me.
Thwack. He spanks me again, and I grow wetter than I thought possible. “Take it, you dirty lil’ brat.”
I take all he gives. Death pounds into me so damn hard I think he may split me in two. I love every delicious second of the abuse. He’s making me crazy. His skin pressed against mine. I close my eyes as he fucks me till I can’t see straight. One hand on my shoulder and the other gripping my hip he thrusts deep and wild. His body slaps against mine repeatedly till I think my legs are going to give out. The sexy devil makes me weak in the knees. Pressure builds low in my belly, pressing against my spine. I arch into him, muscles clenching around his cock. My orgasm slices through me and I cry out begging for both mercy and him to do it again.
“There it is. Gonna enjoy fucking that attitude out of you.” He slides out achingly slow then back in. He takes his time getting me worked up again, repeating the process. “Never felt or tasted anything sweeter than your cunt.” His lips meet the tender skin where he bit me. One of his rough hands slides around my hip and dips between my legs. His fingers circle my clit, and he starts to pump his hips again. I lean back against him, my head on his shoulder. “Feel that? How perfectly your pussy curves to my dick.”
All I can do is nod as I get off again and he soon follows after.
His come runs downs my thighs. I hear his zipper go. I turn to face him. Death kisses my forehead. “Been one hell of a Christmas.”
“My best yet,” I tell him, meaning it.
“New Year’s. I want to see you.”
“I work but maybe after.”
His lips brush mine and then he’s gone.
I clean up the best I can in the dark then go back to the couch too lazy and satisfied to pull the bed out. I curl up under the quilt and it doesn’t take sleep long to claim me.
I find my father sitting at the bar nursing a coffee that no doubt has a shot of whiskey in it. That skanky whore he brought in sits on the stool next to him, arms folded on the bar head resting against them appearing half dead her skin is so pale.
“Rough night?”
“You have no idea,” he mutters. “Merry Christmas, baby girl. Your sister has your card. Was planning to give it to you at your Nan’s.”
“No biggie. I didn’t bring your gift either. I bought you some Harley Davidson garden gnomes to sit out by your porch and some of that chocolate you like.” My dad practically has everything he could ever need other than a good woman. It’s hard to buy for someone who wants for nothing because if he wants it, he buys it. “You guys have breakfast yet?”
“I could eat. Not sure about Margo here.”
“I’ll see if there’s any pancake mix in the pantry. Do you think Death would want any?” I ask casually, trying not to make it obvious I’m curious about his whereabouts this morning.
“Make extra. He’s scraping the road so I can get her home. While you’re in there see if there’s some rice for his phone.”
“What happened to his phone?”
“Got ruined in the shower with Margo.”
My stomach tilts then flips completely filling with utter sickness.
“Right.” I shake my head and stomp to kitchen wondering when the prick fit the time in to fuck that skank too. I’m going to throw up and then I’m going to plot all the ways to kill him. I should have known better. Death is a biker and my father’s VP. He’s married and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Sleeping with Death was like making it to the end of a rainbow. Like catching lightning in a bottle. But like all dreams and wishes when you take away the magic. All the smoke and mirrors. All you’re left with is disappointment. Nothing is ever what he seems and god did he make me want to believe in magic again.
Better I know now before getting too caught up in another Fisher again. That’s a ride I don’t want to get on ever again.