slid his hand over her mound, rubbing his fingertips into her wetness. The sensitive sensation curled her toes.
At the same time, he stroked his tongue in her mouth. She sucked, wanting to draw him into her body.
She could never get close enough.
He pulled his head back, looked her in the eyes, and pulled fully out of her body. As if he held a ragdoll, he flipped her onto her stomach, lifted her ass, and entered her pussy from behind.
On her hands and knees, she fisted the bedspread and threw back her head. Curley grabbed her hair, pulling her back with each plunge. A guttural moan escaped her open mouth, speaking all her thoughts in a primal language only she understood. Having to rely on him to move her, the pleasure intensified.
Her heart pounded with each slap of his balls against her clit. She panted. The pressure on the back of her head wrapped around her. She craved that hardness. The pain. The possessiveness.
The bed shook. She held on for dear life.
The rougher he thrust in her, the more she lost touch with reality.
He had her floating in warmth. Spiraling higher.
Her insides tightened. There was no stopping.
Every response created by him. He controlled her, and he pushed and pushed and pushed her.
Yes. Yes. Take her. Take all of her.
Curley's harsh breathing met her ears. Her eyes closed, hovering on the edge of ecstasy.
Her pussy throbbed, gripping down on Curley. He ground against her. Her back arched, and he pulled her hair, slapping into her crudely—wonderfully.
Pleasure encompassed her. She screamed his name, hurled into an orgasm. Her body spasmed, pulling her hair from his grasp, bowing her back.
Curley slammed into her, held her hips still, and groaned. The warmth inside of her grew in temperature.
Gasping for breath, she trembled, absorbing his shudder. Her head fell forward, and she closed her eyes. Overwhelmed with not only having sex—great sex, but that Curley accepted her and hadn't pushed her away. That he hadn't left in a huff or roared off into the night on his motorcycle without saying a word.
His hands tightened on her hips, and he pulled his cock out of her. Stroking her bare skin, he shifted on the bed. The mattress moved. She looked over her shoulder and found him walking out of the room.
Gently crawling to the edge of the mattress, she hung her legs over the bed and deeply inhaled, only to hold her breath.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she wished him back.
At the other end of the house, the door shut. A sob caught in her throat. She couldn't do this anymore.
Chapter 20
Curley
On his second cigarette, Curley stared out at the quiet street. While his body remained relaxed after having sex with Faye, his mind tormented him. He couldn't walk back inside the house—Grandma June's place.
He'd respected the woman who'd taken Faye in when Walker was sent to prison. Grandma June had done her best to raise her grandchild. Inside, he was reminded of how innocent Faye had been the day he'd brought her here and had to leave, promising he'd be back.
How was he supposed to explain to a child that the world was unfair, and it was only going to get worse as she grew up?
He stubbed the cigarette out and made no move to leave. Out of all the shit he'd done in his lifetime, fucking Faye was the one he regretted.
And the one thing he prized above all else.
He'd tried everything to rid himself of the guilt. There were jags in his life when he'd tried to find relief in the bottom of a bottle. He'd used other women, trying to erase Faye from his memories and, in return, imagined the girls were Faye—only tormenting him more.
Hell, he always knew his relationship with her would turn out the way it had, with him in her bed. That's why he'd refused to let her go. It wasn't the fear of repercussions from the club. He'd go through any punishment, even banishment, for her.
He just couldn't let her go.
He also knew if she found out his part in Walker going to prison, she'd end up hating him.
The front door of the house opened. He knew she would come out if he lingered. She never ventured far from him, and he'd counted on her to honor their relationship—for how unfair it was to her.
"I'm going to lock the door and go to sleep."
"Don't," he said.
He had to explain himself, and yet he had no idea where to start.
"You