Cruz (Dark and Dirty Sinners' MC #5) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,32
such an admission, but I never felt as good as when I told him the truth.
If I was a Catholic, I’d say it was absolution and that nothing felt better than a cleaner soul.
But Cruz was the last person anyone should ever expect absolution from. Sweet Jesus, the rumor was he disposed of the bodies for the MC. I mean, I could have asked, but even if I did, what was he going to say?
‘Yeah, I chop up corpses and feed them to the pigs for my brothers. You got a problem with that?’
Not exactly the kind of conversation people in a… shit. What were we?
In a relationship?
Still fuck buddies?
He thought he had the right to say what went down with my nipples.
I was sitting in my hallway with my cheek kissing the floor because of him, for God’s sake.
Nothing about this was normal.
Nothing had ever made me feel better than being with him, either.
That had to mean something, didn’t it?
His smile in the face of my admission had me gnawing on my lip. I recognized that smile—it usually led to me climaxing.
His hand smoothed over my nape, down the length of my spine, over my ass and straight between my legs which I, quite generously, spread slightly so he could get access to the goods.
A shaky breath escaped me as he ran those tatted fingers along the split of my pussy, and I swallowed as need walloped me worse than a fist to the solar plexus.
When he carried on moving down, down, circling my clit, I arched my back some, then grunted when he spanked me there. A hiss bellowed from me when he did it three more times.
“Where is it?”
I groaned when he rubbed my clit again, but though I was starting to slide toward that delicious space only he sent me to, I wasn’t that far gone that I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
“Nightstand.”
“I didn’t know you had a vibrator.”
“It’s new.”
His fingers struck again. Making me hiss, again. “I’ll introduce things like that.”
Though his words triggered irritation, something about them also made me wriggle my hips some more.
He surged to his feet, shocking me until I realized he was heading for my bedroom, not the front door.
Relief hit me because he was unpredictable, enough that I never knew what he’d do next, which always kept me on edge. He was quite capable of leaving me high and dry. Not because he was a bastard, but because I frequently misbehaved. Even though being good felt so wonderful, complying with his every whim made me feel like a trapped dancing bear, tethered to a pole, forced to dance for food.
Not that he made me feel that way, more like I made me feel that way. But around him, I was as normal as I could be, and like a brat, I tended to act out. If that didn’t make me realize I was a fool, I didn’t know what would.
Hearing the nightstand drawer opening then closing, shortly after, his boots clomped toward me again. He crouched at my side upon his return, dousing the area with his clean scent. Most people assumed bikers were dirty—like their jobs necessitated they stank. Dumb fucks.
No one smelled as good as Cruz.
Not even Nyx. Even if my bro did smell a little like he’d overdosed on aftershave.
Cruz was clean, scented of male. I could stick my nose into his armpit and die and go to heaven.
Not that heaven was for me…
“Hold this.”
The shocking pink vibe was shoved at me, and grabbing it, I waited for him to act. His hands moved to my waistband which he plucked. Realizing it was elasticated, he snatched the vibe from me and, tunneling his hand underneath my trunk, grabbed the waistband with his free hand and with the other, shoved the pink monster beneath it and between my legs.
“Good girl,” he breathed, and I hated that I blushed.
One of his earlier ‘orders’ was never to wear panties. Every morning, I argued with myself when I stood in front of my underwear drawer. Being bossed around pissed me off, but there was something I liked about going commando under my clothes. Something that made me feel deliciously dirty, and not in the way I felt on the regular.
Sullied.
Used…
Cruz never made me feel that way. If anything, he took those feelings away.
Was it any wonder he was addictive?
With no panties to protect me, the vibe was situated between my pussy lips, and with a little