Silas (Dirty Aces MC #4) - Lane Hart Page 0,26
Cora again. She’s tight and soaking wet, so hot and fucking perfect. I haven’t been bareback in a woman in almost ten years. I forgot how amazing it felt, how much better it is. Without a condom in the way, I can feel every incredible inch of her slick pussy. It’s making me crazy with the need to shove deeper, harder.
And as long as I keep one of my hands busy holding her in place by her hip, and the other pulling her hair, I won’t be able to wrap my fingers around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.
That shit is bound to happen eventually. Murdering those corrupt men at Harold Cox’s…it’s like they were a gateway drug. It’s probably only a matter of time before I snap and start taking out innocent women too. It’s a sickness I inherited. Taking lives, pretending like I’m some kind of god. It’s in my blood. I denied it right up and until the night I pulled the trigger on a man. It was easier and more enjoyable than I ever expected.
But killing Cora is the last thing on my mind right now.
No, I already want to be inside of her again, and I haven’t even come for the first time! I need to keep her breathing. If I try and restrain myself, keep pretending to be a halfway decent law enforcement agent, maybe she’ll let me have another go.
“Oh! Oh God!” Cora’s cries get louder and louder with each of my punishing thrusts. I can’t tell if I’m hurting her or not, but she’s making me feel like a fucking deity more than I ever did with blood on my hands. I couldn’t fucking stop even if my life depended on it.
Apparently, she doesn’t mind the rough handling after all. Her pussy is squeezing around me, pulling me in deeper and…oh fuck, milking me dry. She comes on my cock with screams that could bring the island cops to the door. The neighbors are bound to assume I am murdering her.
“Yes! Yes! YESSS!” Her affirmative shrieks make it clear that she’s enjoying herself, though, despite my brutal treatment. She likes bad boys, told me so herself. Now I fucking believe her.
When I’m spent, my balls drained and cock sated but still hard, I sag forward against Cora, pressing her harder into the wall. I finally let go of her hair to grip the other side of her hip, looking down at her sexy ass. I watch as my slippery cock slowly slides all the way out before shoving it back inside of her again a few more times, loving the sight of my cum leaking out of her pussy, dripping down her thighs.
I knew when I attacked her this could go one of two ways. One, she would slap me and tell me to stop, that she changed her mind. Or two, she would actually let me have her as rough and dirty as I wanted her.
I’m not stupid. I know why Cora offered herself up to me. She doesn’t want to be alone because she thinks her life is still in danger.
The poor girl doesn’t understand that by keeping me here, even for an extra hour, she’s putting her life on the line. I took advantage of her, used her weakness, her fear, to finally fuck her. I don’t even feel guilty since I’ve done so much worse. If there is a hell, my name has been on the list for a long damn time, so why should I try to act better now when being bad feels this fucking good?
Except, the carefully balanced scales I prefer to maintain when it comes to screwing a woman are now off kilter. Cora gave me something, she let me use her body without asking for anything in return other than my company. She wants me to stay with her, and I can’t. I hate being indebted to anyone, especially a woman. Fucking has to be a transaction, a simple give and take, or else it starts to mean something more to one of the participants. The last thing I want is to owe Cora, or for her to think sex with me means more than a physical act.
That concern is why I finally force myself to pull my cock out of her warmth and take a step back. Cora gradually slides down the wall to the floor, landing on her knees, the skirt of her dress puddling around her.
“That was…that was…”