Series: Black Thorns #3
Author: Franca Storm
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: January 11, 2016
His eyes are hard this time as he tells me, “Go, Sarah. I mean it.”
I shake my head. “No.”
He steps into me and growls. “Telling you for your own good. Fuck, do it. Go.”
“You can’t scare me away, Zeb.”
He growls to himself and moves away. “You think you can help me? That it?”
“Just tell me what you need.”
He scoffs. “What I need, huh?” He strides back to me and gets in my face, forcing me to back up. My ass hits the hood of the hummer. He leans in to me and slaps his hands down either side of me, boxing me in. “What I need ain’t something you can give me.”
“Wh…what?” I struggle to get out, finding it hard to breathe with him suddenly this close.
“I need to get some shit outta my head. Outta my system. And the way I do that is booze or sex. But both…both I gotta do hard-core. No holds barred. All right? You wanted to know. Now you do.”
He pushes off the truck and steps back from me.
“You need…your whores?”
His eyes narrow. “Ain’t no more whores for me!” he yells, really pissed at my question.
“We’re together now! You and me. And I don’t cheat, woman! You hear me?”
Oh. Okay, then. I guess I have my answer on that at last. But then…then he’s saying now we’re together, he can’t get what he needs…sexually? How dare he?
“Come here!” I find myself demanding angrily all of a sudden.
He starts in surprise at this sudden flare up of spunkiness from me. It has him stepping up to me again. “Yeah?”
I hold my hands out to the sides. “Take it.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head vehemently.
“Cuz…you ain’t…it ain’t you. Too rough…no…no…no.”
I grab his arms and his gaze snaps to mine. “Zeb, don’t tell me who, or what I am. How dare you think you can decide this for me? How dare you refuse to let me help you? For days you’ve just been avoiding me. And then you tell me we’re together…in your mind. It’s not fair! You can’t do this to me! You can’t decide everything in this…this…relationship of ours!” I stomp my foot and yell, “It’s not fair! Stop it!”
He just stares at me, unmoving, for several long seconds of intense silence.
And then he says, “Tell me to stop.”
Before I can get a word out, he lunges at me and attacks me with his mouth.
He kisses me harder than he ever has. He doesn’t wait for my permission this time either, before shoving his tongue into my mouth. I can barely breathe as his lips, tongue and teeth devour my mouth, taking intense possession of every part.
He grabs my wrists then as he leans over me, forcing me to lay back on the hood of the truck. He pulls them up over my head and pins them there with one hand. With his other, he grabs my ass and jerks me up onto the hood so my back is flat against it.
He breaks our kiss as he climbs onto me, straddling my hips, while his hand continues to trap mine above my head, holding me at his mercy.
“Tell me. Tell me to stop, Sarah.”
I shake my head. “No,” I pant, struggling to catch my breath from the intensity.
He shakes off his cut and then he’s ripping his t-shirt over his head in the next second and revealing those amazing rock solid abs of his. He smirks at the look on my face as his fingers glide down to his jeans. He pops the fly and he’s pushing them down frantically then. He’s not wearing any boxers and I gasp when his dick comes into view, as he pushes them down to the middle of his thighs. And then he’s tugging down mine. He doesn’t even take the time to take my panties off. He just rips them off me roughly, making me cry out in surprise.
“Sarah,” he growls as his hand comes up again and holds my wrists down above my head.
He thrusts into me then, shocking me with the lack of warning.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Tightest fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”
He drives deep, pulling out almost all the way and then slamming back in again hard, driving so incredibly deep. It’s rough and brutal and every thrust has me screaming from the ferocity of it. This is what he was trying to warn me about.
“Tell me,” he grinds out as he slams back into me once more. “Tell me…to…” he pulls out. “Stop!” he yells, thrusting deep again.
I shake my head from side to side.
Desperation clouds his face and he groans, “Sarah.”
He pulls out, grabs my hips and lifts me up, his every movement jerky and urgent. He carries me over to the workbench. And then he’s sweeping his hand over it, knocking all the clutter onto the floor. It crashes to the floor with thunderous clang after clang, echoing through the garage. He lays me down on it.
His hands grab my thighs roughly, his fingers pinching the soft flesh there. He spreads them wide, holding me open.
And then his mouth is on me