Read Never Kiss a Bad Boy Online
Authors: Nora Flite
Marina was stuck within the reach of my mouth. Even if she bent and twitched while I lapped at her tight arse, the strings of liquid rolling down her inner thighs told the real story. She loved everything I was doing.
So did I.
“I think my damn zipper is about to snap,” Kite growled, breaking their kiss. Feeling my own painful erection, I was sympathetic.
Standing tall, I tipped Marina's head back and nuzzled her temple. “Are you ready?” I asked, fingers whispering down to trace her pussy. I got them soaked, lubed so they could tease lightly over her anus.
Tight as a drum, Marina tried to weave away. “Wait, I've never done that,” she panted.
Across from me, Kite's eyes twinkled. “Guess that makes me lucky,” he said, yanking his jeans down to his ankles in a blur. “I'm the one who gets to be the first.”
I could have argued; I'd prepared her for this new act, after all. And I'd been the one to get a face-full of paint. But I was content to feel Marina, hearing her moan as I tested her limits. There was no reason to argue over who got to take her first... but I wasn't done with her. Not yet.
Around her front, I traced the engorged nub of her clit. Her gasp was fantastic, especially so close to my ear. “Isn't that nice?” I asked. I knew the answer, I could tell from how fast her lungs worked. “Don't you want more?”
Twisting, she laid her heated stare on me, eyes half-shut. “Of course I fucking do.”
The flash of heat that rolled through my belly was immense. I wanted to free my raging erection. Instead, I forced myself to remain calm.
Still petting her pretty cunt, I began teasing her puckered asshole. The noises she made had me dizzy. Marina swept me up the same way I did to her.
Kite was done waiting. He pulled her from me, replacing my fingers with his own. “You're too fucking much,” he hissed through his teeth. “Just watching your face is killing me, Marina.”
Shaking myself, I realized even if I wasn't touching her, her claws were forever in my heart. This was out of control. Marina was the only person I'd ever known that could do this to me. She wrecked my plans and stomped on my composure.
If I tried to yank her out of my blood, would it tear me apart?
Shoving aside the train of thought, I unbuttoned my pants. Kite had Marina in his arms, stealing her attention. Somehow, as my zipper-teeth sliced the air, she heard it. Instantly her onyx eyes jumped to me, fixing on how I adjusted my bulge.
Smirking at her hungry stare, I outlined my cock. She couldn't blush any brighter. “Yes,” I breathed out. “You're ready. Bring her here.”
Lying on the jackets, I slid the condom out from my pocket. It sheathed me, and my only flicker of jealousy was when I realized Kite wasn't putting one on.
He was reveling in the ability to shove himself inside of her plump ass without hesitance. In his shoes, I'd have behaved the same.
Kite had started to position her, but she was too eager. Kicking her shoes and pants aside in a hurry, she swayed over to me on her own. It was magnificent, I had an angle that let me see her curved thighs and appetizing cunt.
Crooking a finger at her, my smile bloomed. I pumped the base of my cock, a motion erotic enough that she visibly trembled. “What are you waiting for?” I asked, riveted by her parted lips.
Hesitating, the dark-haired beauty—this bold woman—she looked me over and smiled. “I was enjoying the view. Committing this to memory.”
I faltered, heat and lust falling aside at her compliment. That was what she'd wanted, her eyes drawing me deep as they glimmered.
There were two thoughts in me. They warred with the other, tooth and nail.
Marina's mind is fantastic... she surprises me constantly.
And then:
She's capable of surprising me.
That's extremely dangerous.
Every doubt flew away as she bent over me, knees coming down on each side of my hips. Marina straddled me in that forest, her pussy hovering right over my swollen cock. She wanted to dip down and fill herself.
Instead, I gripped her hips, freezing her in place.
Her confusion faded as Kite knelt behind her. “Both of you?” she asked, twisting to balk at him. “At—at the same time?”
In the fading forest light, Kite's grin was all shade. “It's our second-place prize. This belongs to us.”
That fierce side of her came through, even if her legs were shaking. “I'm not just some prize.”
“No,” I said, cupping her neck and pulling her down. Our noses touched, and I knew she would see the specters in my gaze. “Not just 'some' prize.
Our
prize.” Sliding the underside of my dick over her pussy, I felt her hot breath tickle me. “Right now—in this moment—we own you, Marina Fidel. Every part of you is ours... and if you don't believe me?” Controlling her decent, I guided only the tip of my length inside of her. That mewl went to my core. “Deny it. Push away, try to leave.”
Letting her go, I gave Marina an option. I was inside of her, glorifying in her wet heat. If she wanted to escape and avoid our desires, she could. Nothing held her down but the gravity of her lust.
Staring at me in disbelief, her eyes slowly narrowed. Her chest rose rapidly, stealing her bravado. “You're impossible,” she said, clenching her teeth.
What was impossible was walking away; for any of us.
Even being a mere inch inside of her hugging walls was addicting.
Heaving out a whistle of frustration, Marina pushed herself down my shaft and sobbed. The war was done. She'd conceded.
She belonged to us.
Holding her steady, I caressed her back and tilted her towards me. Over her head, I caught Kite's eye. My nod was tiny.
Bending low, he spread her ass with one hand. The other rubbed his cock-head over her rosebud, gently pressing beyond her ring of muscle. I could feel the pressure of her being stretched, the two of us struggling to share the warmth of her body.
“Fuck!” she shouted, tensing in my arms.
Wrapping my fist in her hair, I murmured straight into her ear canal. “Calm down, just try to relax.”
She laughed, a manic noise. “Calm down? You're both about to tear me in two—Fuck! Fucking hell, that's...” Quivering, her slick cunt clamped down on me.
Groaning, I let my eyes flutter, the agony of holding still giving me a migraine. I wanted to pound into her violently. I loved her screams, loved how she shivered and panted. But she needed to adjust to what we were doing. I knew she could, Marina was stronger than anyone who'd come before her.
Grunting, Kite stopped rocking into her. It was clear he was as deep as he could go. “You're crushing me,” he said. “Are you okay, Marina?”
“Yeah,” she moaned, sitting up slowly. Rich skin, high-speed curves, I was gazing up at a painting. Something meant to decorate the ceiling of an old chapel. Marina stole more of me every time I was with her.
I was done holding out. I wanted to crash and burn.
Digging my fingers into her waist, I lifted her up, relished in her weak whimper. “No more playing around. I can't handle the torture of being in your sweet pussy, I need to feel you move. I need it before I lose my mind,” I growled, not caring how I sounded.
Stroke after stroke, I gorged myself on her cries. My rib cage flared, proving it could contain my rampaging blood. The wet sound of each impact drove me harder, faster. Licking my thumb, I lowered one hand and pet the swollen clit that was calling to me.
Any discomfort Marina felt from having us both slamming into her was erased. I could feel the shift, the waves of heat that roared through her body and along my cock. She tossed her head, arching to the sky.
Last night, I'd been inside of her. I'd told her I needed her to come—that if she did, I'd never get enough of it.
I hadn't been joking.
I yearned for Marina's orgasm, it was as dear to me as breathing.
“Fuck,” Kite said, his forehead coming down onto her shoulder. “Fucking insane, you feel incredible, Marina. I can't—fuck, I'm so close!”
Making tight circles on her clit, I studied her face between my own rapidly diminishing control. The sensation of her milking me had me near the edge. Marina licked her lips, grinding down on me with increasing desperation.
When she came, she took my vision. I saw white flashes, the cold air evaporating to leave scorching wild fire in its place. My veins flexed, pulsing as my climax ripped from my skull to my cock. Marina had thrown me over a mental cliff-side and left me broken.
She toppled forward, a second wave of clenching muscles rocking her cunt. Her face landed on my chest while Kite grunted. His orgasm had pushed her over into a second one for herself, the tingles coursing through into my still firm shaft.
It was almost too much. Almost.
In a pile, we all laid there on our jackets under the darkening sky. The trees were still red as blood from Marina's ruse. Through my haze, my fracturing walls, it made me think of grizzly things.
I'd seen so much killing in my life. It hadn't mattered to me as I'd gotten older.
A hard life can turn a heart cold, but it can protect you, too.
Sex had always been for fun before, to help me forget and to let my mind take a break. It was one of the few escapes this world could offer me. A selfish, freeing escape.
Until now.
This wasn't an escape. I'd never been so emotionally drained.
I was wishing for things I feared I could never have. Instead of gore and death, I wanted the paint on the trees to remind me of
this.
A day of joy, a moment in our messed up lives where nothing mattered.
A day where I didn't have to ponder who lived or who had to die.
Wrapping my arms around Marina, I closed my eyes and wondered what lay ahead.
Marina
––––––––
I
'm falling in love with killers.
Two killers, to be precise. I know, I'm insane for getting into this situation. I've never claimed to be the wielder of great fucking ideas.
They're smooth, dangerous, cunning and capable of whatever they deem necessary.
My two hitmen...
All mine.
Standing in front of the wide window, a place I often found myself loitering, I gazed down on the city. The sun was cresting, coating the sentinel buildings in gold and cherry. It was an hour where nothing should have stirred.
Except this was New York City, and it never really slept.
Below me, cars rolled and people milled. The buildings were dazzling with their lights. Kite's apartment had a view that I never got tired of. It was especially welcome after I awoke from a nightmare.
Will those dreams ever stop haunting me?
I wondered, pushing my forehead on the glass.
Even after I get my revenge... will they really go away?
Rubbing my lower leg, I winced. There was a dark bruise beneath my jeans, left there from my recent foray in Upstate New York. Kite and Jacob had suggested we play paintball, insisting it'd be fun.
It had turned into something much more wet and hot than 'fun.'
Flushing at the memory, I swallowed my wave of shame. Spending time with these two killers was never supposed to be about fun. But here I was, fantasizing about the ways they'd spread me... fucked me.
How they'd made me scream.
I wanted, more than ever, to hope that they cared for me. Because deep down, as much as it scared me, I cared about them. Was it really love? I didn't know, it had been so long since I could remember the feeling.
But this burned hot, and it made me dizzy. What else could it be?
Do I want them to love me, because that would mean I'd be safe?
If I'd learned anything, it's that these two hitmen didn't like liabilities. They were careful, cunning... precise. No mistakes.
And as long as I lived, I was a mistake.
Taking a deep breath, I let the air coat the window in an opaque cloud. Lifting a finger, I started to write a name.
Cece.
My little sister. My sweet, long dead sister.
Shaking myself, I shut my eyes and focused. The memory of the hurt, the pain, the suffering... that would help me. I needed to be reminded of what I was doing.
Why
I was doing it.
My reason for living was to get revenge. Nothing should distract me from my purpose: finding
that man
and seeing the light fade from his eyes.
Behind me, I heard a small sound. My intuition prickled sharply. I turned, finding Kite standing in the wide room. His reddish hair glinted in the sunrise, but the light hardly penetrated his coal-black eyes. Eyes that reminded me of my own, but in color, only.
Even if I was out for blood... I was nothing like Kite.
He smiled, tilting his hard jaw and casting a shadow down his throat. He was wearing nothing but a pair of loose shorts. All too suddenly, it was very warm in his apartment.
The knob on his deliciously long neck bobbed when he spoke. “You're up early. I'm starting to wonder if you ever sleep in.”
Careful as I could be, I wiped my palm over Cece's name on the window. I saw Kite's glance, hoped he hadn't seen. “It's hard to sleep in, these days. Lots on my mind.”
Softness touched his face, and I regretted saying anything. Kite was many things, but the most surprising was the side of him that coerced me into opening up.
What had happened to the me that was cold and closed off?
Had she ever even existed?
Stop it,
I demanded internally, even as Kite approached.
Quit wondering about how you've changed. It isn't important.
But I knew that was a lie.
Kite leaned on the window, the muscles on his bare chest tightening with the motion. He was unfairly gorgeous. “You want to talk about it?” he asked, managing to make me forget—just for a second—who he was.
What he'd done and what he would do before this was all over.
He rested his fingers on his own biceps. The knuckles that bore his unique tattoos, reading 'swim,' glowed in the sunlight. Those palms could strangle a man in a blink, or pull a trigger and send a bullet straight into a heart.