Bella
I’m early, but I had to get out of the house. Emilio was stalking around the first floor like a hyena, jumping whenever I opened a cupboard, glaring at me whenever I was in the same room. He probably called that witch, Giana, as soon as I stepped foot out of the house.
Papa’s tucked away on the third floor, probably has no idea. Or maybe she’s working her magic on him too. I check the clock for the fifth time. Still thirty minutes to go. The guy doesn’t seem like the type to be late; I’ll start a bath.
Even the sound of the bubbling out warmth makes me relax. Yes, this is just what I need. A nice bath and then a nice fuck – escape from this headache-inducing hell I’ve been trapped in.
I slip a toe in and exhale in pleasure. Just the right temperature. I lower myself in and, under the water, close my eyes. Submerged there, I’m free: worry laps at the edge of my mind, all remote and powerless.
Ridiculous considerations float through my head, everything almost plausible in these soothing heat:
Why not just hand over control to Emilio? He’s brutal but effective. He’s been dying to lead since he was old enough to talk. Then he’d leave you alone too. You could spend more time with Muffin, do whatever you wanted to, whenever you wanted to – even leave.
I stretch myself out further, savoring the warmth embracing every inch of my body. God, it would be so easy.
I sit up, breaking out of the water for a breath. In the coolness, it all comes swirling back: the women filthy and sprawled on the floor like animals, that one in the corner reduced to reading chunks of a book.
No, I can’t leave them and more like them to their fate. Emilio would never agree to change things. I have to do it myself.
At the sound of the front door opening, I stand up. I left the bathroom door open; I didn’t expect anyone to come in. Not yet.
In the front door, framed in the light, his white suit and white-blonde hair like a beacon, the realization hits me like a cold slug in the face.
I know who that is.
That’s Jax Forester, leader of the Renegade Devils. That’s my greatest enemy. That’s the man I’m sleeping with.
He lets the door slam behind him, strides to the door of the bathroom, then stops to take me in.
“You’re all ready for me,” he says, the pleasure in his voice flitting to his lips.
I nod, speechless. Does he know? I search his face, but all I find is a want that I can already feel blooming between my legs.
“Here, I’ll join you,” he adds, his hands already unbuttoning his shirt.
I get out of the tub.
“Wait there,” he commands, and I freeze.
He acts as if I’m not there as he undoes the buttons, unhurried, casual, like he’s in his own house, without a wet, naked woman before him. He undoes his pants and slips them off with the same nonchalance.
It’s only when he’s completely naked, that he lets his gaze meet mine. An electric current goes through my body. His cock looks hard already.
He strides forward, picks me up and tosses me into the tub, the water shooting out in all directions. He jumps in on top of me, every inch of him pressing against every inch of me. His hands sweep up and down me in head-to-toe strokes, while mine clutch at his hard chest. I kiss the falcon on his left pec, while, mid-stroke, one of his hands goes between my legs.
“Smart,” he says with a grin, “but useless – trying to make yourself clean before being dirty again.”
“I want you to fuck me inside-out,” I hiss out, my hands going for the hard pole of his dick.
While his one finger starts jerking in me, the other slips to my ass. At a squirting sound, my eyes flutter open to see his other hand topped with a white tuft of my vanilla body cream that I never got around to using.
“So prepared,” he says, his one finger still pulsing away, sending my body in tremors, while the palm of his other runs down my back.
My one hand jerks him off, while the other reaches for the hand and the cream I’ll rub on his dick. He freezes, then shoves me to the back of the tub with, waving the cream finger in my face.
“Ah, ah, ah, this cream has a very special use.”
His one hand starts kneading my breast, while the other goes to my shoulder, slides around to my neck, down to my back, then further. I shove my pelvis to his dick. He slaps my ass.
“Bad slut,” he growls out.
I lay back, and he pets my head.
“That’s more like it.”
Then his hand starts kneading my ass, jiggling the fat then grasping it, playing with the cheeks. I rub my pussy against his dick, and he slaps my crotch with it, grabs my ass roughly.
“Bad slut.”
His fingers snake all over my ass, into the crack, run up and down it, up and down, rubbing the cream in, concentrating around the hole. He throws his lips over mine, probing his tongue in my mouth while he increases the intensities of his strokes of my crack.
Suddenly, he flips me over. My face is under water… A loud sucking sound… Then my head is lifted up by the hair, while the water in the tub slowly ebbs.
He presses his face into the back of my head, his finger into my opening. “Don’t you worry, slut. I still have more to do with you yet.”
And then the water’s gone, and he’s emptying my body cream over my lower back, then back and forth over my ass cheeks, rubbing it in with his hands. And then his hand is back on my ass crack, pressing into the hole, around it, teasing me.
I press my ass up in frustration, but he slaps it. And then shoves a finger in me. I stick it up higher.
He reaches down and grabs my tit. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you?”
His other hand kneads my ass, then slides down into my pussy. While it starts jerking, his other finger works its way in deeper. Amidst the pleasure ratcheting up and down my spine, from my ass to my pussy and back again, I’m aware of only one urge, one word, one need.
“More,” I gasp, and he obliges me.
He shoves his finger all the way in my ass, and the other all the way in my pussy, pumping in the same frantic rhythm he can’t keep up for long, and I don’t need him to. He’s given me more and more; the hot flush of oblivion is overtaking me. I can’t hold on much longer.
On the edge, as my whole body trembles with his jerking, the word spills out of me, becomes some kind of masochistic, insane refrain, “More – more – more – more,” until I’m delivered with it, over the edge and howling out my pleasure, the orgasm taking hold of me, until there is no more to be had and I’m delivered, crashing, into a crumpled ball of haze in the tub.
In the blissful haze, there is the smell of vanilla everywhere, liquid vanilla running over my head, over my shoulders, down my back, over my ass. I’m flipped over, and vanilla gets there too, spending extra time on my breasts, sliding down to my pussy, until I’m wet again and vanilla is satisfied.
Picking me up, Jax leans over, engulfs my nipple with his mouth, sucks away and, face in front of mine, smiling greedily, says, “Now, it’s my turn.”