Dominic: Cerberus MC Book 4 Page 14

  I bite my lip, unsure how the next few minutes are going to go. “I moved my things into here.”

  His shoulders stiffen, but he doesn’t say a word about me taking over part of his personal space.

  “Wear a bra,” he directs. “I don’t want Snatch staring at your tits.”

  He closes himself in the bathroom before I can quip about his possessiveness. My eyes land on the corner of the photo album showing under a book I tried to read last night. It reminds me that he’s not possessive, just an angry asshole who can no longer have the real woman he loves.

  Chapter 24

  Dominic

  “I don’t think I can do this,” Mak whispers when I step out of the bathroom after my quick shower.

  She’s piling her hair on top of her head in a loose knot, no regard to the fresh bruises around her neck. I look away giving more attention to toweling off my body than required. I can’t even explain to her how my marks on her makes my blood boil in heated arousal. How do you illustrate such things to a victimized woman?

  “Leave it down,” I tell her. Even though my brother, Kid, and Snatch are well aware of my sexual proclivities, I don’t feel the need to explain myself to them, especially after she shares her story with them.

  Grabbing clothes out of my dresser, I turn to lay them on the bed so I can search for socks. Her eyes are glued to my cock. Even nearly flaccid, it hangs with an impressive weight between my legs.

  I ignore her attention and in turn the now less than deflated member. I tug on boxer briefs and then jeans restricting myself to the point of pain behind denim. After pulling a t-shirt over my head, I once again give her my attention.

  “Might as well get it out of the way,” I urge knowing I won’t force her to do anything she legitimately doesn’t want to do. “They’re not going to hurt you. I’ll be right beside you.”

  She watches my eyes, and the scrutiny of her gaze unsettles something in me.

  “I can tell them everything I know, Mak, but it’s your story to tell, not mine.”

  “Okay,” she finally agrees, even though her eyes dart to the door with nervous energy.

  Her willingness to walk out of this room and face three bikers she doesn’t know just because I’m there with her says a lot about her faith in me. After what I did to her in the panic room, she should hate me. I do my best not to think about the repercussions since she doesn’t seem to.

  I resist holding her hand as we make our way out of the bedroom to join the three impatient men in the living room. Her change in demeanor as she inches closer is evident in the slight raise of her chin and the way her shoulders straighten. She may not be fearless, but she’s good at looking like she has balls of steel. Pride winds itself around me, both in her strength facing my brother and her ability to be vulnerable when we’re alone.

  Her steps stutter slightly when she sees the hulking men as all of their eyes are turned in our direction when we make our entrance. Without thought, I place my hand at the small of her back, and I’m rewarded with a weak smile from her lips. I almost smile back, but catch myself. Turning back to the guys situated around my living room I discover all three of them giving me the same dumbfounded look.

  I guide her to the unoccupied love seat and sit beside her.

  Kincaid speaks first, and I’m certain that’s because Snatch is gawking at her and unable to speak. His attention makes me want to throat punch him.

  “We thought you had a lot of people worried about you, scared for your safety, but Dom hinted that it’s more likely that you’re scared of those looking for you.” His face is a mask of concern. I’ve seen him like this many times. Clarity and compassion in the face of evil has been a skill many of us have perfected over years of helping women in abusive situations.

  “Grinder,” she begins but pauses to look over at me.

  I don’t know if she’s seeking comfort or permission, but her approval check doesn’t go unnoticed by Kincaid. Almost imperceptible to anyone who doesn’t know him, the half second twitch at the right corner of his mouth tells me he’s not only amused at her response to me, but a little confused at the reaction.

  She clears her throat, looking back at my brother. “He’s hurt me.” Shame pinks her cheeks as she looks down, and as much as I love her submission, right now is not when she needs to show it. “A lot. He’s hurt me a lot for a number of years.”

  “You’re safe now,” Kincaid consoles. He looks at me. “We’ll tell Scorpion that she’s safe. Wait. Does your brother know his SAA is hurting you?”

  Her head is still down, but he gives me a look as if he’s planning the murder of the entire MC if they’re allowing that shit to go on over there. The exact same thoughts I had before she told me her whole story.

  Mak shakes her head. “Scorpion doesn’t give a shit about me, but he’d never let someone do to me the things that Grinder has done.”

  “So we let your club know that you’re done.” Kincaid slaps his legs.

  I know he’s in a rush to get back and check on Em. He looks over at Kid and Snatch who looked even more annoyed that they’ve wasted hours for a situation that they deem resolved too early.

  “We’ll discuss what happens to Grinder at another time.” Kincaid doesn’t want to speak about the things he wants to plan for Grinder’s demise in front of Mak. The other Cerberus members perk up at the promise of fucking someone up.

  “Kincaid,” I say with my hand out to stop him from standing. “That’s not even the tip of the iceberg.”

  I feel Mak’s eyes burn into my face who would’ve been happy just to let the guys leave.

  I look over at her, and my heart breaks at the sight of the tear cresting and falling down her cheek and the quiver in her chin.

  “I can’t,” she whispers. Realizing her moment of weakness her spine stiffens, and she sweeps her hair off of her shoulder, so it’s lying in a mess of waves down her back.

  “Shit,” Kid hisses.

  “The fuck?” That comes from Snatch along with a low whistle.

  Kincaid’s eyes dart to mine. Rather leave shit alone because he can tell how fresh the bruises are and knows she’s been here for days, he presses her. I just hope the reminder of our time in the panic room not long ago is a pleasant one and pulls her from this emotional slump.

  “Grinder give you those bruises on your neck?”

  Her eyes dart from mine to my brother as her tiny hand comes up to her neck. This time her cheeks turn red from embarrassment, as if the marks are a neon sign describing in detail the rough sex we had.

  “He’s bruised me before, but umm…” her eyes dart to mine again. “These aren’t from him.”

  Kincaid’s lip twitches again.

  “My man,” Snatch whispers loud enough for Kid to punch him in the shoulder. Snatch isn’t a stranger to rough, deviant sex either. He prefers multiples, but it’s never been my thing, so I haven’t seen him in action.

  I clear my throat, throw the best chastising look I can manage at Snatch, and then turn my attention back to Makayla.

  “How about I tell him the rest, and you let me know if I leave anything out?” She nods her approval.

  Two hours later the Cerberus members leave motivated enough to take down an entire MC if their Prez gives them the go ahead. I was very detailed to the guys, and Mak only chimed in when she demanded that she is kept in the loop and wanted to be a part of whatever we had planned to take down. The guys were gracious enough not to laugh at her, and Kincaid placated her as best he could.

  “That went better than I thought it was going to,” she confesses as we finish the dishes from the quick sandwiches we made before bed.

  I won’t tell her I told her so; she doesn’t need to hear it. I’m honestly glad she feels like she can invest even a little bit of trust into my brother’s club.

  We head back to my bedroom, which forces a tired smile on my face that she just assumes I’m going to let her sleep in my bed like she did before I left and while I was a
way. Of course, I’m not going to tell her any different. I wouldn’t ask her to stay if she made a move to go back to the guest bedroom, but I sure as fuck won’t ask her to leave.

  I watch as she strips out of her clothes and disappears into my walk in closet. I hold my breath while she’s in there, praying I don’t hear the snap of the panic room door.

  A couple minutes later she peeks her head around the door. Her cheeks are the reddest I’ve ever seen them, and the roll of her lip between her teeth forces a smile to tug at her mouth. I can tell she wants to speak, but for some reason, she’s trying to build the courage to get the words out.

  “So umm…” she finally says and clears herself of the door.

  It’s not her naked body, although incredible as it is, that cause the thickness between my legs but the length of rope and blindfold hanging from her fingertips.

  Chapter 25

  Makayla

  “No,” he says immediately, but it’s pained as if his mouth is contradicting his brain.

  A smile spans my face when I see his legs shift under the sheet. His head shakes as I take a step toward him.

  “No, Mak.” Rather than sounding weaker, his voice has gained some strength. I falter on my next step. “Put it away and let’s get some sleep.”

  I swallow, the urge to obey thick in my throat.

  “You sure?” I taunt swinging the rope just enough to catch his eyes like a hypnotizing pendulum.

  “It’s been a long day. I’m tired.” His eyes never leave the implements in my hand. If I’m not mistaken a light sheen of sweat is forming on his brow.

  “Is it your age?” I pout prettily. “Can’t handle sex twice in one day?”

  Now I’m just talking shit because the first two times we slept together was within twelve hours of each other.

  His eyes snap from the rope and pierce mine with enough heat to stop me in my tracks.

  “I was already too rough with you today.” His words are measured, deliberate, and leave no room for argument. “Covering your eyes and tying you to the bed after what you’ve been through is too much, and I’m not taking advantage of you.”

  My shoulders slump forward, heavy with disappointment and rejection.

  “If you continue to provoke me like a petulant child, I will treat you as such and bend you over my knee.”

  Arousal zings through me, the shiver racing goosebumps over every inch of my flesh. His eyes heat noticing the furl of my nipples. I’ve been hurt, kicked, beaten, and assaulted on numerous times, but not once have I been spanked. The parents I was graced with couldn’t be bothered enough to issue any type of corporal punishment. Even without a working knowledge, my body is in agreement with his promise.

  “Yes, please.” I repeat the words that pushed him into action earlier in the panic room.

  Crawling up the foot of the bed, I lay the length of rope across his torso. Panting breaths rush out of his mouth, and I see his finger grip the sheets by his sides.

  “I want this,” I confess.

  He shakes his head. “I can’t.” His gray eyes bore into me. “I won't.”

  “You’re the only man I trust to do this. My body wants it. I need it.”

  He remains motionless. He doesn’t respond. Not when I kiss the quivering muscle below his belly button. Not when I tug the sheet from his fists and lick the thin line of hair leading down. Not when I wrap my lips around the throbbing head of his engorged cock.

  It isn’t until I reach up with both hands and score his flesh with my fingernails that he opens his eyes to find mine as I take him to the back of my throat. His hips buck off of the bed, driving himself deeper. I moan and my eyes water as he buries himself inside my mouth.

  The rope and blindfold are in his hands, and I’m flipped on my back before my mind can register the movement.

  “You want this?” He asks holding the items only a couple of inches from my face.

  I lick my swollen lips and nod.

  “You think you’re in control?” I shake my head no, but he reads the glint of success in my eyes.

  He yanks, first my right then my left arm above my head. The ropes cut into my skin enough to know I’m now captive, but not enough to hurt or cut off circulation.

  He teases me with the blindfold, trailing it down my nose and over my breasts. The rasp of the silk tickles and sets fire to my skin at the same time.

  I watch with disappointment as he tosses it to the floor.

  “I want your eyes,” he explains. “Tell me to stop if it becomes too much.”

  I nod.

  Fast as lightning his hand slaps my breast. I cry out, the sting ricocheting in my clit.

  “Use your fucking words, Makayla.”

  “I’ll tell you to stop,” I groan.

  He leans forward, and the scorching heat of his mouth wraps around the injured flesh. The ropes tying my arms to the headboard have enough slack in them that I can almost reach his head. He notices the mistake but corrects it by shifting his weight and tugging my legs, so I’m further down on the bed. The taut rope stings ever so slightly.

  “Fuck, I love your tits,” he praises as he pulls his head back. Calloused fingers tug at the wet flesh, and my body responds with an unsatisfied roll of my hips.

  “You’ve been tempting me with this body for days.” His teeth nip at the sensitive skin on my abdomen before he flips me over on my stomach. His hot mouth continues down my spine “Showing me your pussy the day after you arrived. Teasing me with your amazing tits.”

  He bites my shoulder blade hard enough it’s sure to leave a mark. I twist under him, but the weight of his knees bracketing my thighs makes it impossible to turn back over.

  “Each time I wanted to spank your sweet ass for wanting you.” His hand crashes against my flesh right at the juncture of my thighs. “But nothing made me want it as much as watching you finger yourself in my bed last night.”

  I stiffen under him, both loving and hating him for making my fantasy come true.

  “Y-you watched that?” I squeak.

  His breath is in my ear. “We came at the same time,” he says. “What were you thinking about, baby?”

  “You,” I admit. “This.”

  “Finding that bag in my closet turned you on?”

  “I couldn’t wait to get my fingers inside of me.” I moan as his thick fingers find my wet pussy.

  “You didn’t cover up. I watched you lay back on my bed and spread your legs wide.”

  “Oh God,” I pant. The pressure of a third finger joining the two already inside of me is delicious ecstasy.

  “You wanted me to see you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I zoomed in on that sweet, pink pussy. No matter how tight I gripped my dick, I couldn’t get it as tight as your pussy.” His fingers move with precision, not slow but not quite fast enough.

  The heat of his body leaves my back.

  “I needed to heat your ass with my hand for making my mouth water.” Two blows land, one on each cheek and I shriek. “For making me ache for your pussy.”

  His fingers are yanked from me, my hips are lifted, and the overwhelming sensation of his mouth seers my pussy. I tremble through the fastest orgasm I’ve ever had.

  He smacks me again as his tongue slides through my cleft. “Didn’t give you permission to come.”

  It sets off another mini release, and I’m boneless under his mouth and hands. His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass, pulling the cheeks apart. A whimper escapes when the hot breath of his mouth transitions to the gentle lapping of his tongue against my asshole. The brief, dark touch is gone too soon.

  “Some other time,” he chuckles when my hips shift back seeking his mouth again.

  The bedside drawer opens, and he sheathes his cock in record speed. My leg muscles, unable to hold my weight any longer, give out and I slink to the bed.

  “Perfect,” his whispers as his knees settle on either side of my hips.

  No warning, no ‘here it comes.�
� Dom slams into me pulling a cry from my lips. No amount of attention could prepare me for the intrusion.

  He smacks my ass when I try to wiggle away, and grips a handful of my hair to hold me in place. My neck is elongated, strangled moans escaping my throat as he fucks me with abandon.

  “Fuck, Mak,” he pants. “I’ll never get enough.”

  My heart sings at his words. I explode, coming in a torrent of bliss that makes spots raid my vision.

  “No,” he hisses as he pulls from me. I’m flipped over once again. Gray eyes have turned dark, almost demonic, possessed. “You don’t listen very well.”

  Both hands smack my tits twice in quick succession as he rams into me again. My feet are plastered to his chest as he folds me nearly in half, driving so deep I feel him behind my belly button. His fingers twist my nipples almost to the verge of unbearable pain, but my core responds by clenching him further.

  “Fuck you,” he spits when my body squeezes around him. I can tell he’s angry, wanting to last longer than the clutch of my body is going to allow.

  “Sorry,” I pant a second before another orgasm sneaks up and manifests itself.

  A large hand, the same one that gripped my neck in the panic room closes around my throat. Only this time there’s no easing into it. My airway is blocked, my eyes roll back, and the wave of release wracking my body intensifies tenfold. I don’t see spots like I did earlier, however.

  My vision goes black. I can hear his curses, feel the pulse of his cock as he pounds out his own orgasm, but I see nothing. My body is floating even though I’m being held down by Dom’s weight. My skin tingles as if covered by a static current.

  “Hey,” he whispers as his mouth nears mine. Lips brush mine, and I crane my neck, seeking until he obliges with a kiss so sweet I almost imagine he’s been replaced by another man.

  My vision begins to refocus just as he’s reaching up to untie my hands.

  “That was… I’ve never… Can’t explain.”