Fire & Dark (The Night Horde SoCal Book 3) (15 page)

“Fuck, Cordero, you taste sweet.”

“Pilar. Call me Pilar.”

He looked up. “What? I thought you wanted me to—”

With a shake of her head, she stopped his words. “Not anymore.”

“You are one confusing chick. But okay. Pilar it is. Again.” He grinned. “I like it, by the way. It’s sexy.” Before she could respond, he leaned back in and went to work.

He had no trouble locating her clit and stayed right on it, flicking the tip of his tongue and dragging its flat surface over that small knot of nerves again and again, varying the touch in ways she couldn’t predict. She shot up like a bullet to the brink, and then he perched her there, kept her on the precipice, his fingers digging into her hips, his beard rasping over her thighs, her mound. She trembled there for an eternity, until her body was literally trembling. And then, with a chuckle, he stopped playing around and got her off. He flicked his tongue firmly over her clit, with fierce determination, until she thought she might die, and then the release finally came.

She grabbed hold of his head as sparks of pure pleasure fired her body. She could hear her moans and squeals—oh God, there were squeals; she’d be embarrassed about that later—resound in the room. She rarely made noise when she came; she tended to get quiet. She must have had a lot of pent-up need. Well, hell yeah, she did. She hadn’t been fucked in two weeks!

As she settled, she expected him to stop. She needed him to stop. But he didn’t. He kept going, paying the same dedicated, forceful attention to that tiny, painfully over-stimulated cluster. His hands were clenched so tightly around her hips that they ached. Too much. Too much. Oh shit, too much.

But she didn’t stop him. Because she knew this thing, how it would play out, what the discomfort she was feeling now, the way her body tried of its own will to escape him, rocking back against his tightening hold, what it all would lead to. So she held on to his head and let him continue.

The pain really was, for those first moments, nearly unbearable. But then it wasn’t. And immediately after the pain was gone, an orgasm twice as intense as the first landed on her like an anvil.

She howled, a feral, insane sound. And this time, when her body had completely escaped her control and she collapsed on him in a spasming heap, he stood and kissed her again, filling her head with her own taste and scent.

Then he picked her up and dropped her on the bed in another heap.

He stripped, laying his kutte over the chair she’d been sitting in earlier. When he came naked back to the bed, she hadn’t moved. She was too exhausted. It was possible that she hadn’t even had a thought.

So, still without saying a word, he stripped her, pulling off her boots and socks, her jeans and underwear, her top and bra. She lay and let him move her. When he rolled her to her belly and pulled her hips up high, she pushed her knees under, presenting her ass to him.

He left her to go to his dresser. With her head on the bed, she watched him dig out a condom and roll it on. When he returned, he squatted at the side of the bed, face to face with her. “You have to tell me what you don’t want. I’ve never thought about how to do something like this. I’m just making this up as I go.”

“I’ll tell you. But you know what to do. Just…go hard.”

“You have a whatever—safe word or something?”

She laughed into the covers. “How about ‘stop.’”

He laughed, too. “The old standard. Right.” As he got up, he kissed her shoulder. Then he went to the end of the bed, leaned over and grabbed her wrists. He pulled them behind her and crossed them on the small of her back. She could feel him wrap one of his big hands around both her wrists.

“Oh, yes,” she gasped. “Yeah, this is good.”

She heard his chuckle as he pushed his cock over her totally exposed pussy, letting it brush up and down a few times. “You are fucking amazing, Pilar.”

With that, he pushed into her—one motion, balls deep. He was big, and balls deep for him was really fucking deep. Pilar gasped and clenched around him, and he made that growly sound again, deep in his chest. Then, with his free hand, he reached out and grabbed her hair.

Holding her like that, one hand restraining her arms, the other pulling her head sharply back by her hair, he began to thrust. And he went for it from the first thrust.

He drove into her again and again, so hard she had to close her eyes, because the sight of the room bouncing around made her woozy. The room was alive with sound: the slap of skin as their bodies slammed together, the wet suck of his cock moving in and out of her grasping pussy, his wild, vicious grunts every time he landed deep, her rough gasps echoing his.

Her scalp ached where he had hold of her hair. Her hands tingled from his punishing grip, and her shoulders protested the way they were wrenched back. She could still feel the impressions of his fingers on her hips.

And oh, God, oh fuck, oh sweet Jesus, it was so motherfucking good.

“Connor, fuck—fuck—” she wanted to say something to let him know how fantastic he felt, but she couldn’t think enough words.

He froze. “Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she gasped. ‘I didn’t say stop. God, keep going.”

His laugh sounded strained and desperate. “Fuckin’ hell, baby. You got me crazy.” He released her hair and pushed her shoulders to the bed as he began again, moving even faster now.

When Pilar came, she felt it in every joint and muscle, one huge clench and release that had her chewing on the bunched covers. She felt her juices running freely from her, through her folds, down her legs.

“Thank fuck! Jesus God, you’re tight when you come!” With that, Connor came. She felt him arching back, his hips pressing against her, his cock as deep as it could possibly go.

When he was finished, he let her hands go and pulled slowly out of her. As he disposed of the condom, Pilar rolled to her back and stretched out, rubbing her wrists and rolling her shoulders.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked as he sat on the bed at her side.

“Only in the good ways.” She smiled and brushed her hand over his thickly muscled thigh. “You have a fantastic body.”

He laughed and sat back against the wall at the head of the bed. “Thanks. You know what I think of yours.”

“We should work out together sometime. Do you run?”

“Only if somebody’s chasing me. I lift. Do some core shit, knock the heavy bag around some.”

“No cardio?”

With a grin and a shrug, he answered, “People chase me often enough.”

She laughed outright. When she raked her hand through her hair, he caught a hank of it before it fell back, and watched as it coiled around his finger. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that—that, in fact, had probably truly been the first way he’d ever touched her with real gentleness. “I’d like to watch you lift.”

He met her eyes. “Likewise. We got a weight room here. Nice and close to this bed. For after.”

“You’re on. Not tonight, though.”

“No, not tonight. I’m not letting you out of this room or anywhere near clothes until breakfast. But soon.”

“You can show me how many pull-ups you can do.” She raised an arm and bent it in a flex, tightening her muscles.

He wrapped his hand around it. “Nice. But I can do more than you.” He flexed his huge arm, thick as her thigh.

“Care to wager?”

He rolled over on top of her and propped on his elbows. Those biceps swelled on either side of her. “Stakes?”

She thought for a few seconds. “If I win, you have to do karaoke at The Deck. In that Karaoke Idol thing at the end of the month”

“What?” His eyes went wide.

“Scared? Not a lot of confidence in yourself, I guess.”

“Fuck you. You’re on. But if I win, we fuck on the fire engine.”

She shook her head. “We really can’t, Connor. In that movie, remember, a call came in while they were up there? They played it funny, but it’s actually really bad. It could slow the line down, get somebody killed.”

“Okay, okay, hero.” He kissed her, pressing soft, light kisses to her lips, her jaw, her throat. “If I win…you have to…do that karaoke idol thing at The Deck.”

That deserved a slap, so she whacked his shoulder. “Lame.”

“Wait. I wasn’t done. You have to do that song about touching yourself.”

“What?”

“You know, that old thing, ‘When I think about you…’” He sang the line—in a nice, smooth baritone.

“The Divinyls? No fucking way. How do you even know that song? I can’t imagine it’s your genre.”

“My mom liked it when I was a kid. She used to sing it around the house. When I understood it, I was retroactively traumatized.” Full of gentle touches now, he brushed her nose with his. “Scared? Don’t think you can beat me?”

“If I have to sing that one, then so do you.”

“Ah-ah-ah. I already agreed to your terms. You didn’t specify, so I get to pick. If you lose, you have to sing that one. To my brothers.”

“Jerk.” But she was smiling as she said it. She was happier and more relaxed in this moment than she’d been in a while.

“You could just concede the point.”

“No way. I’ll take your bet, because I’m gonna win.”

“We’ll, see, baby. We’ll see.”

She could feel that he was hard again. Bringing her knees up along his hips, she whispered, “Show me something else right now.”

He shifted until his lips hovered over a nipple. “I can show you that all night.”

That confidence, at least, was not misplaced.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

When Connor woke the next morning, he experienced an unfamiliar sense of disorientation. And he was sore, too—his thighs and back particularly. He opened his eyes carefully, trying to figure out where he was and what had happened.

He was in his own room. So why was his whole body on alert? What the hell?

And then his brain woke up. Fuck—Cordero. Pilar.

She was lying on her stomach at his side, the cover slanted over her back and hip, her hair fanned out in a dark, wavy mass.

His cock was extremely happy to find her there.

But he needed to think. So he closed his eyes again and lay still, ignoring the complaints of his body. At least now he knew why he was sore, because damn. They’d done some Olympian kind of fucking.

And now she was his girl? Just like that? He needed to think.

In this head, he turned over the events of the night before. Just a typical Friday night. He’d been in a foul mood most of the day, and he’d almost bailed on the party and just gone to his folks’ house to crash there in the quiet. His dad had left just before nine, as had become his custom over the past year or so.

He’d been sitting there at the bar, watching the crowd, trying to decide if he had really come to the point in his life where he was leaving a party at nine on a Friday night. Because that would have been a depressing state of affairs.

There had been some new girls, but for the first time in a long time, the thought of playing the seduction game with a nineteen-year-old just made him feel tired. And old. Also a depressing state of affairs. But then Tina had slunk up and handed him a fresh beer. She was still fairly new but had been around long enough, and consistently enough, to be considered under their protection, on the roster.

He’d decided that what he needed was a simple, straightforward, uncomplicated fuck.

Then Pilar had stormed into the Hall, and those adjectives had become meaningless. Nothing about what had happened after that was simple, straightforward, uncomplicated.

And now she was his girl.

He opened his eyes. She hadn’t moved, and he fought the urge to reach out and sink his fingers into that wild hair.

She was his girl. Did he want that?

After a couple of aborted attempts at relationships, each of which ending dramatically, with the woman he loved, or thought he could love, deciding he was a monster and running as fast as she could from him, Connor had put some effort into building a life that didn’t require that kind of connection. Allie, the woman he’d actually loved, had
really
loved…fuck. She’d left in the middle of the Perro bullshit. The club had had to threaten her. She hadn’t known much; Connor was of the mind that club women should not ask questions. But she’d known enough to know that a threat to go to the cops would get a rise out of him. He and his father had forcibly moved her away and threatened her family to keep her quiet.

That was the kind of man he was. The kind of man who would threaten a woman’s family to keep his own safe.

But Pilar insisted that she knew him, knew his life. That she understood. And that was the thing: he wanted her to understand. He wanted to believe that she could. He couldn’t get her out of his head.

So now the question: did he want to lay himself open like that again? For this woman?

She was demanding and argumentative. She had a troublesome family, a troublesome history. She was strong and smart. She was funny. She was cynical, but she believed in heroes. She fucking
was
a hero. She was hotheaded. She was gorgeous. She wanted to be hurt, overtaken, but she was proud of her own strength. She was fucking complicated, a puzzle through and through, from the wavy hair on her head to the little, horseshoe-shaped birthmark on her ankle.

She was his bottom that came on like a top.

She was his girl. No—she was his woman.

Did he want that?

Yeah, he did.

He scooted closer and put his arm around her. She stirred, moaned quietly, and then rolled to her side, pulling his arm more tightly. Curled around her in that way, Connor felt relaxed and cozy. He felt trusted.

So he ignored his swollen cock. He closed his eyes, tucked his head against his woman’s shoulder, and went back to sleep.

~oOo~

He woke again in the middle of an intensely erotic dream, so vivid that his body was moving, and even after he woke, he could feel the touch of soft hands on his cock.

No…no…that was no dream. Pilar had turned to face him and had been jacking him off in his sleep.

Oh, Christ, he was close. He groaned and clutched her shoulder.

“Hey.” Her voice was sultry and smiling. “Finally. I thought you were gonna come and never even wake up.”

She didn’t need to know how close that was to true. He smiled and brushed her hair back from her face. “This is assault, you know—taking advantage of me while I sleep.”

“You want me to stop?” The sincerity of her question was compromised by the way her hands clenched and pulled.

“No, no,” he groaned. “Assault away.”

Shifting, she pushed him to lie on his back, and then she moved downward on the bed. When she took his cock into her mouth, sucking him down, he reached up and grabbed the pillow, taking handfuls on either side of his head.

Just as he thought he was going to go, she backed off and attended to his balls instead, laving them with her tongue, sucking each one fully into her mouth. His muscles twitched and contracted as though an electric charge had been applied, and he could feel his sack tighten against her tongue. He couldn’t take this.

“Baby, come on.”

“You want to come?”

What did she think? “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Come on.”

He wasn’t going to come unless she was on his cock directly. Even as a kid, he’d never had wet dreams. He’d had crazily erotic dreams and woken up feeling like he was having a dick hernia or something, but he’d always had to jack off to get relief. So while she was down there smiling up at him, lightly licking his balls, all she was doing was making him absolutely fucking crazy.

“How bad do you want it?”

He lifted his head off the pillow. “What the fuck?”

She grinned, seemingly unaffected by his distress. “Beg for it.”

“What?” Even to him, his voice sounded almost panicky. What was her game?

“Say please.”

Oh. Sure, yeah, okay. Whatever. “Please. Please, baby.”

Her grin was utterly debauched. She shifted again, moving over to kneel between his legs. Hovering over him, she pressed her tits together around his cock and rocked back and forth, bending her head to suck and lick at his tip as she jacked him off with her tits.

It wasn’t the first time a woman had gotten him off that way. There had been a club girl a while back, Ember, who’d been known for it. But there was something about seeing Pilar like that that…Shit-Christ-Fuck-GOD. He came explosively, his back arching, but she moved with him, stayed on him, finishing him completely.

When he relaxed, she smiled up at him, a drop of his semen at the corner of her pretty mouth. And that was the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Then her tongue darted out and lapped it up, and THAT was the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life. He was already hard again.

When she noticed that, she cocked an eyebrow at him.

He sat up, grabbed her, rolled them over, and fucked the absolute shit out of her.

~oOo~

They were lazing together after that, catching her breath, when Pilar said, “We didn’t use a condom.”

Connor rose up on an elbow and looked down at her. “Damn.” She was right. He never forgot a condom, but he had this time. It hadn’t even occurred to him. He should at least have noticed the different feel, but he’d missed that completely. It had been a raw, fast, hard, mindless fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“It’s cool, don’t panic.” she said, brushing her fingers over the furrows in his brow. “I’ll go by the pharmacy on my way home. But we should talk about health. Do you get tested? I do—it’s a thing with my job, because we come in contact with bodily fluids. I’m clean. How about you? You’ve stuck your dick all over town, so please tell me you get tested.”

He felt defensive and insulted. “I always use a condom.”

“Not always, you don’t.” Pilar pushed him back and sat up. “Jesus, Connor. Seriously? You don’t get tested?”

“The girls here do. And I wrap up.”

“You don’t just fuck the ‘girls here,’ whatever that means, though. And we just now didn’t use a condom. God! I can’t believe I just gave you head!”

Now she really was insulting him. He got up off the bed and turned to glare down at her. “I’m not fucking dirty! This is the only time since the last time I had a serious thing that I haven’t wrapped up. And it’s not like I’ve been slamming every skank in the Inland Empire. Jesus Christ!”

She stood up, too, and they stared at each other across the bed. They were both naked; Connor felt naked in more than just his body. What the hell was happening here?

But then Pilar took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be mean. I’m just freaking out a little now. I don’t forget the condom.”

“Like I said, neither do I.” He gave her a wary look; he felt wary.

“Will you get tested? Please?”

“Will you get on some other kind of birth control? The Pill or something?”

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” She smiled. “I wish I’d been paying more attention—I bet you felt amazing without the condom.”

He was still mad, but he couldn’t help it: he smiled, too. “How’d we miss that?”

Sweeping her hands down the length of her naked torso, over her firm tits, her sculpted belly, her tight hips, Pilar answered, “I guess you’re just that hot for this bod.”

Indeed he was, and his anger evaporated. He grabbed his stiffening cock. “And you for this one.”

They stared at each other, touching themselves, and the bed between them seemed to take on a magnetic pull. But then Pilar shook her head. “I can’t go again. I need a break. Like food and water.”

Laughing, Connor checked the clock on his dresser. “It’s 10:30. There’s probably breakfast out there. But there are probably still passed-out bodies, too.”

“If there’s coffee and maybe a piece of bread, it’ll feel like Thanksgiving.” She tipped her head to the side and gave him a hooded look. “Then a shower after?”

“You’re on. I’ll scrub you up good.”

~oOo~

Surprisingly, the Hall was fairly empty. Jesse and Tina were sleeping on a sofa in a mostly-naked heap, and Fargo was passed out alone in a chair. Keanu, the most recent patch, was awake, playing a video game with the sound low. Empty bottles and full ashtrays lay everywhere, but for a Saturday morning, it didn’t look too bad.

Connor had noticed this happening: the Horde were settling down. Of fourteen patched members, six—Hoosier, Bart, Diaz, J.R., Muse, and Demon—had old ladies, and he hadn’t known any of them to stray. Well, J.R. and Diaz made use of the run rule—what happened on a run stayed on the run—but that didn’t count. Those men tended to leave most parties early and sober. And he guessed he was joining their ranks—though it was too soon to be sure. That cut the available Horde in half.