Furore: Texas Chapter Duet Part One (The Night Skulls MC Book 1)

Furore: Chapter 25



The stain of my cum on her face, hers on my cock, all of her naked in my arms, and yet I didn’t feel she was all mine.

“I didn’t think you were the cuddle and stare type.” She smiled.

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

I was seriously wondering if she was an actual witch. She had the body of a real woman, with needy, naughty curves in all the right places, but the face of an angel, so sweet and innocent, which was now a commercial of post-orgasmic pleasure, flushed and glowing and vulnerable, calling to me to be ruined even more. She took a big guy like me in one sitting, and that took magical talent. But above all, she made me addicted to her cunt even before I fucked it, sent me burning with jealousy over a teenage boy because she had feelings for him, and I was now thinking of all the ways I could erase him from her body, mind and soul so I’d be the only man for her. So she could be all mine. I didn’t know what the fuck she was doing to me, but it was dangerous shit. “Take off your contacts.”

“I’d love to. My eyes are screaming in this house with all the dust, and the contacts are making them a burning hell. But is it safe?”

“You’re always gonna be safe with me, Jo.”

She nodded, on her face, that smile that floored me every time, the one that sealed her fate without her even knowing it. “I trust you, but what if someone comes in?”

“You think someone can barge in on us?”

“Have you looked at those doors? If someone so much as blows on them, they’ll fall apart.”

“And you’re okay with it? The risk of being walked in on while you’re being fucked?”

“It’s you who choose a place with an audience every time you touch me. I’m the poor girl who doesn’t have a say in it anymore. Isn’t that what you keep telling me?”

“C’mon. You fucking like it. The risk of being caught. The feeling of being watched. The thrill of being naughty. The power that you don’t give a shit.”

“Well, if I’m being totally honest, while I’ve always been discreet, living in the shadows, keeping my head low, this openness you offer and the power that comes with it are growing on me.”

Like a disease, she gave me her smile. I was grinning like an idiot, in spite of the bubbling rage, because she made me fucking happy just by being in my arms. “You can be yourself with me. Always.”

“I know. But what about with the rest of your friends?”

“I trust my crew with my life. We protect each other. They’ll never hurt you. Hasn’t Fort been watching out for you all this time?”

“Does he know who I really am?” she whispered, alarm lacing her voice.

“Not yet, baby, but he will. The whole crew, too. It’s fucking scorching in Texas. You can’t be wearing that wig all the time. It’ll give you a rash.” I laughed.

Stunned, she touched her false hair. “You knew? Not even my girlfriends noticed or suspected, and they’re women. How could you know?”

“Your girlfriends never had to buy a wig in their lives, I guess.”

She stared at my hair, doe-eyed. “And you did?”

I laughed again. “For my sister. Cancer.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry. Is she…”

“Alive and kicking and a pain in the ass as always. Don’t worry about that little bitch. She’ll outlive us all.”

Her lashes fluttered. So fucking cute I wanted to eat her. “You…seem close.”

“I grew up in Texas, ma’am. All families are close. Too fucking close sometimes. Sammy is the living breathing proof of it. You’d better be ready for dinner parties, barbeques and pecan pies every single Sunday. There’s no escaping that. Ever.”

She smiled but it didn’t touch her eyes. “Laius, I—”

“Take off your wig and contacts and shut up.” I knew what she was going to say, but there was no way in hell I’d accept it. I wasn’t gonna leave her behind. She was coming to Texas with me whether she liked it or not. She was mine, and I’d have her no matter what. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

She grabbed her jeans, fished out a contact case and put the fake hazels in it. Then she unfastened something at the back of her head and took the wig off. Giving me those doe-eyes, she combed through the cascades of cream blond and let them drop down her shoulders.

My cock jutted out as my hungry, mesmerized gaze zeroed in on her stunning beauty. One that matched her mother’s. As if I’d taken a trip back in time, I felt like an eighteen-year-old looking at the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, except this time she was mine and naked in my bed, ready for my taking.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Like a goddamn—”

“Please don’t say it,” she sighed.

“What?”

“Any faerie comparisons, jokes or innuendos.”

“I was gonna say you were beautiful like an angel. A witch angel, if that’s a thing.”

She blushed. “Oh.”

“Is that what he called you? His fucking little faerie?”

She shrugged, her lips puckered.

“You told him who you were?” I spat, flames licking me.

“He saw me naked, Laius, and he’s too smart to lie to. I tried, but he kept asking questions. Eventually, I had to tell him the truth, which, surprisingly, he didn’t run away from, not from that anyway. He was so protective just like you.”

I wrapped my fist around her throat, and her eyes bulged. The way she was talking about him, the way her lips curved in a smile as she remembered him gnashed at me. “Don’t ever compare me to another man. It won’t end up well.”

“What does that mean?” she rasped.

“Tell me his name.” I had to know who that fucker was. I had to teach him a lesson first for hurting her and second so he’d know she was off-limits. The whole world had to know she belonged to me now. Only me.

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because…your anger…scares me.”

 I read her eyes, the actual fear darkening them, and my hand softened around her throat. My fingers brushed over her hair and moved a strand off her forehead. Then I kissed her there. “You can’t be scared of me. I’ll never hurt you, Jo. I never hurt a woman in my whole life. If I could do something like that, that bitch Delilah would have been dead long ago. I never touched her or let anyone hurt her, and I hated her fucking guts. How could I ever hurt you when I…”

“When you what?”

My chest heaved with things I should never say or feel, so I just mashed my lips against hers. Then I flipped her on her stomach because looking at her was too much right now. It made me weak in the knees, made me want to say stupid shit that would make life as I knew it no more, shit that would ruin me before her beyond repair.

I lined my cock up with her entrance and slowly slid in. Her real hair had a curl to it I wrapped around my fist, and she whimpered softly as I pressed my face into her neck and pushed in.

She tilted her head, searching for my gaze, our gasps in unison as I gave her all of me. She was young and innocent and good, full of light I snuffed with ever touch, every stroke. And I couldn’t get enough.

The best part—or the worst—was that she’d take it. She blossomed in my darkness, and she’d take it until her light was all gone. As long as she was with me, I didn’t give a shit. I was that much of a selfish, cruel prick. Love was selfish and cruel. That was the only kind I knew. And I loved ruining her.

And I fucking loved her.


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