Silver Bastard

“What do you mean?”

“You asked once what I do for the club. I fix problems. Teeny is a problem.”

I swallowed.

“You can’t do that.”

“Yeah, I can,” he replied, turning back to look at me. His eyes darkened, and I shivered. I’d only seen him like this once before, the morning he’d stolen me away. All hot anger burning under a surface of cold purpose. So dangerous. “If you want him dead, I’ll make it happen. But you have to fucking talk to me about it.”

“You sound like a sociopath,” I blurted out. Shit. “I can’t believe I said that.”

Puck came over and caught the back of my neck, jerking me into his body. The air had changed between us—there’d been anger before. Now there was more.

“You belong to me,” he growled, cupping the side of my face with his other hand. I felt his fingers wrap around my jaw, oh-so-close to my throat. “That means I take care of you. I thought you were safe from your stepdad. He’s still hurting you, though, so you’re not safe. Now I’ll solve that problem so he never hurts you again. That doesn’t make me a sociopath—that makes me your old man.”

Then his mouth took mine, tongue thrusting inside brutally. The horror of the day, all the adrenaline, everything hit me all at once. I’d been dying slowly inside all afternoon, but now I felt alive again. I reached up and caught his hair in my hands, pulling him into me with a force I’d never used before. Puck groaned, then shoved me down and back onto the bed.

The mattress was spongy and soft. The blankets were old and faded. God only knew the last time they’d changed the sheets.

I didn’t care.

All that mattered was the feel of him as he shoved my legs apart. Then his hand was down between us, digging under my thong. His fingers found my center like a target, shoving deep inside.

My back arched and I convulsed against him. It wasn’t an instant orgasm, but it was something damned close. Like all the tension I’d been carrying that day was desperate to escape but couldn’t quite pull it off without his help.

Puck broke free from my mouth, then dropped his head and grabbed my bra with his teeth. My breast popped free and he sucked it in almost painfully. Need exploded between my legs, a tension that ran from my breast to my clit, where his thumb started working me.

“Puck,” I moaned.

He pulled back and gave a harsh laugh.

“Nothing like an angry fuck, huh?”

His words struck me.

Angry fuck. That summed up what I wanted perfectly . . . Something dark and rough and free from any kind of concern for his needs.

I pushed up, catching his chest with my hand and shoving him over. The move caught him off guard and he went down.

Then I was on top of him, straddling his body as I tore at his shirt. Puck was a smart man—didn’t take him long before the fabric was up and over his head. I reached behind my back, trying to find my bra hooks but my fingers turned awkward. Finally I just pulled the whole thing up and over my head. Then I was down across his chest, rubbing my nipples into his as I ground my clit against his cock.

“You aren’t my old man,” I growled, staring into his eyes. Puck bared his teeth at me as his hands caught my ass, fingers digging deep into the flesh. His hips bucked up.

“You’re mine. Pretend all you want, but this is my cunt, my ass, and I don’t share you with anyone. I’ll protect you and you’ll take care of me and there’s not a goddamned thing you can do about it.”

My back arched when his fingers stabbed me again. Then I was flying over and onto my back, legs up and around his body while his hips ground me down into the mattress.

“This,” he said, thrusting his fingers again. “This belongs to me.”

Puck’s other hand started burrowing and I shuddered. He’d found my asshole, wiggling against it with savage pleasure.

“This is mine, too,” he added. “And if I want your mouth, I’ll fuck you there. You want more. Admit it.”

“Fuck off.”

“Nope,” he said, pulling his hands suddenly free. Then he spread them on either side of my head and pushed up. That pressed his dick down hard into my pussy. Nice.

But why wasn’t he moving?

I needed him in motion, pressing against my clit and making me scream. The tension inside me needed to get out. I was going crazy—had been going crazy all day. This was the first thing that made sense, the first thing that didn’t hurt my soul.

“Goddammit, Puck!” I need you. I couldn’t say it, though. Couldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Admit you’re my old lady,” he growled again. “Just say the words and I’ll fuck your brains out.”

“No.”

Puck took a deep, shuddering breath and started to lift his body off the bed.

“Yes,” I gasped, reaching for his butt, pulling him into me desperately. “I’ll be your old lady. Whatever. Just fuck me!”

Puck’s eyes flared, and then he was reaching between us, ripping open his pants. Seconds later he thrust inside. My entire body shuddered and I screamed, the relief was so intense.

I wasn’t there yet, of course. I need more motion, more penetration, more of everything.

Damned good start, though.

Puck’s hips drove deep, over and over again. I tried to match his rhythm at first but it was hopeless. He was too heavy, too hard. Too fast. It was all I could do to hang on as he pounded into me.