Read Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2) Online
Authors: Amo Jones
I smirk, spreading the ganache over the cake. “Well, four reasons,” I add innocently. “They are: Dan Carter, Liam Messam, Sonny Bill Williams, and Richie McCaw.”
He rolls his eyes. “And women call men pervs. That level of perv has some commitment.”
I laugh, placing the bowl into the sink and turning the hot water on. “I’m joking. My dad would watch the matches when I was a kid before he had a drinking problem.”
Hella stills slightly. “I need to talk to you about something. We’re having some brothers over tomorrow night from a different chapter. You and the girls will come over to the clubhouse to help out in the kitchen, but after that, you’re going to Meadow’s house.”
“Okaayy,” I say slowly. “Why aren’t we staying?”
“Because you’re talking weddings or some shit.”
Once I finish the cake, Garret rubs his hands together. “Can we cut it now?”
“Sure!” I say to him, taking a knife out of the kitchen drawer. I cut him a piece and slide his plate over to him.
“Want a piece of our hard work?” I ask Hella with a smile.
“He doesn’t eat food that doesn’t help build his body,” Garret adds around a mouthful of cake.
I look to Hella and run my eyes up and down him. “You don’t say.”
“Give me the damn cake.” Hella raises his hand up.
I laugh, cutting him a piece and sliding toward him. I lean against the kitchen table.
Hella points. “Are you not going to eat any?”
“No,” I answer casually. “It’ll make me fat.”
He pauses, fork in midair, then smiles before dropping the rest in his mouth. The front door opens again and Jada yells out, “Sorry, I’m late!” before walking into the kitchen with bags full of groceries. “Oh, yum! Cake! How was the kid?” she asks, walking towards Garret and kissing him on the head.
“Which one? Hella or Garret?” I tease, and Hella’s eyes narrow at me. I chuckle before looking back at Jada. “He was great. I don’t mind watching him whenever you need.”
She places the bags on the bench. “It shouldn’t happen again. A client was throwing around cash asking for me and me only, so Sophie had to call me in.”
Hella nudges his head. “I need you to start on my leg.”
Jada nods, taking out an apple from one of the bags. “When you’re ready.”
She looks at me. “You have any ink? Aside from the doves on your hips?”
I shake my head. “None.”
Hella reaches out towards me, hooking his finger in mine and pulling me down on his knee. I look at Garret to find a cheesy grin on his face before looking back at Jada, who doesn’t bat an eye. One of Hella’s hands grasps around my upper thigh while the other one continues with his cake. If I’m being honest, being with him feels natural, which scares me a little; it’s too easy to sink into him, to let him possess me.
I answer Jada’s question. “No, none at all. But I do want one. I was going to talk to you about it, actually.”
She nods, taking another bite. “What were you thinking?”
“One that goes up the side of my thigh?”
She eyes me. “That’d be hot. Do you know what you want?”
I tilt my head. “Not really.”
She brushes my comment away. “We can work all that out.”
Hella’s hand comes to my tummy, sprawling out his fingers and pressing on it softly.
“We have to prepare all this shit for tomorrow,” Jada adds. “Then apparently we’re going to Meadow’s to plan a wedding.”
I chuckle. “Sounds good.”
Millie comes down the stairs. “It’s ready?” she asks, walking towards the cake. She cuts a piece and takes a seat at the table, smiling at Hella casually.
I look around the room. “Is no one even slightly surprised where I’m sitting?”
They all answer, “No,” while keeping their eyes on whatever they’re doing.
I scoff, shaking my head. Hella taps my leg. “Come on, I wanna run something past you.”
I stand. “Run what?”
He takes my hand. “The fact that I’m not dealing well with having to keep my hands PG because of who’s around.”
Hella directs me up the stairs and into my bedroom. He takes a seat on my bed and runs his hands over his face. “Fuck, I’m really not good at this.”
“Not good at what?” I ask, closing the door behind me.
“This,” he answers, gesturing between us.
I stand a few feet away from him and cross my arms. “That makes two of us.”
It’s true; we’ve woven each other into a messy web all based on the fact that we make each other horny.
His eyes look up to mine and a wave of foreign sensations swim over me.
“So what do you want to do?” I ask, searching his eyes.
His hand reaches up as his fingers intertwine with mine, igniting a spark of electricity between us. “Honestly?” he says, his eyes still locked on mine and his thumb caressing my palm. “Anything you want.” He yanks on my hand, my body falling over his lap. His arm curls under my leg to cradle me and I wrap one of my arms around his neck. “What
do
you want, Melissa?”
I swallow, my mouth now parched. “Can we just… go with it?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, babe. I can do ‘go with it’ with about anyone else, except you.”
My eyebrows draw together. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I whisper.
“It means that I have no fucking idea what I’m doing or how to do it, but I’m willing to give it a shot with you and only you.”
“Are you asking me to be your old lady? Because—“
“No,” he cuts in quickly. “No, not that. Not yet, anyway. But I want you to be mine and only mine, and no one else’s.”
“So… you wanna date?” I ask with a small smile in my tone.
He pauses. “Ah… I don’t think that’s it, either…”
“So what is it?”
He readjusts me on his lap, his hard cock pressing against my hip. I smile quietly.
“You’re mine, and that’s it. I think you get the picture.”
“On one condition.”
His arms clench around my back. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
“You’re mine, too. No one else’s. And I’m dead serious, Hella,” I begin. “If you so much as tilt that cocky fucking smirk at any other woman, I won’t just kill her, I’ll kill you too.”
He laughs, his chest vibrating against mine. “Done. But for the record? I may not have done this before, this whole girlfriend thing,” he says, rolling his eyes, “but I’d never cheat on you, Melissa. Those were games—which you played as well, I’ll add.”
“No more games,” I say sternly.
“Ehhhh….” His eyes narrow. “Just switch up the game boards.”
I laugh as he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me further into him. I spread my legs on either side, straddling his body. The rock hard muscles under all his clothes tense with each movement. I run my finger down his square jawline and over his tattoos. “Do these mean anything?” I ask.
He laughs. “What? You expecting me to be sentimental?” He sees the smile on my face and continues. “Aside from the fact that I’m free and alive? No.”
I snort. “Why am I not surprised? So… none of them mean anything in particular?”
“Nah, babe. They all just mean that I wanted them, so I fucking got ‘em.”
“Fair enough.”
His hands come down to my hips. He raises my shirt slightly, displaying my prominent hip bones where my only tattoos lie. “These mean something? And watch what you say, babe, ‘cause if they have anything to do with another man, I’ll fucking kill him, and then get Jada to cover them up with my initials.”
I shake my head slowly with a small smile. “They just mean control. It was something I could control after… what happened.” His jaw clenches, his grip around my hips tightening. I bring my hand up to his cheek and run my thumb across it. “Hey.”
He moves his face out of my hand, picking me up and placing me back on my bed. “They need to pay for that, baby. If you were my old lady, I’d eradicate them from this world and you wouldn’t have shit to say about it.”
I pull my knees up to my chest. “I can’t talk about this again.”
His eyes turn to stone before they soften slightly. “Back to why I brought you in here: you’re staying with me from now on.”
“What?!” I crawl off the bed as I watch him walk into the closet and pull out my clothes. “I can’t! I don’t even know where you stay or who you live with or what your living situation is like.”
He drops my clothes onto the bed and sighs. “I live alone, Melissa, and I stay on the property, toward the back by the stream that runs around the clubhouse. It’s hidden away and no one really knows about it except the brothers.”
“What?” I’m astounded. “How big is the land here?”
“Eight hundred acres,” he answers, picking up my clothes again.
I gasp. “Holy fucking shit. That’s a lot of land.”
He nods. “Yup. My house—well, log cabin—is at the far back of the land, just above a large stream. You can swim in it and shit. Beast’s dad had it built when Beast and I first came. He wanted us to have our own house away from the clubhouse when needed. When he died, the deed went under Beast’s name and I bought it off him once he purchased his house in town.”
“Wow,” I whisper. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“So that’s a yes? You’re bringing your stubborn ass with me? I don’t need to pull any caveman bullshit with you?”
I laugh. “I’m coming.”
“Thank FUCK for that.” He lets out a laugh and I throw the pillow at his face. He catches it just before it hits him and his eyes narrow. “Did you just—?” He glares at me mockingly before throwing the pillow to the side of the room and diving onto the bed, pushing my body back down onto the mattress with a squeal escaping me. “Come here!”
I yell again when he blows raspberries into my neck and, just like that, our clothes disappear.
Hella
I hand Melissa my helmet as she walks out the front door of Jada’s house. She halts. “Okay, confession time.”
I smirk. “It’s not rocket science, babe. Keep your legs away from the pipe, relax, and don’t let go of me.”
She nods. “Okay.” She breathes in and out. “I can do this.”
I chuckle again and she snatches the helmet out of my hands before hitting my arm with it. “Don’t laugh at me.”
I swing my leg over the bike and continue to laugh as I watch her try to copy my movement.
“Shut up, Ward.”
Kick-starting it to life, I rev the engine a few times—my exhaust is modified a little, making it just that much louder than your average bike—before driving us out of Jada’s driveway and onto the main gravel road. We pass the house that Meadow and Melissa stayed at while they were here, continuing to the very end of the road until it narrows and turns to asphalt. I rev it again and gun it all the way there. I’ve been thinking about telling Melissa about what I know, and how I know about her, but truthfully, I don’t know how she will take it. When the time feels right, I’ll tell her.
Melissa
I swing my leg off Hella’s bike and my hand comes to my backside. “I sort of can’t feel my ass.” I move my head over my shoulder to check on it and Hella laughs. He takes my hand in his, but I pause before we start walking, peering up at the masterpiece beyond my eyes.
I gasp. “Holy shit.”
His hands tighten around mine. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
I pull my hungry eyes off the house. It’s a two-story log house, which has floor-to-ceiling glass windows shaped in a triangle overlooking the stream directly in front of it. There’s a twin garage that sits by the front door, right where the asphalt ends.
“If you’re thinking of marrying me and running away with all my money, you’d be mistaken,” he says with a smirk, watching my expression closely as I continue to take in the outside of the house. “I paid for it with cash. Seventy percent dirty, thirty percent clean. But it was built dirty. Blake owed Luce, so he paid his debt with this.”
Blake is Phoebe’s brother and one of the guys I grew up knowing from the Sinful Souls MC. This doesn’t surprise me because truthfully, without sounding like a stereotypical bitch, I expected there had to be a story there. This cabin is a cozy mansion. The stream runs along a sandy area in front of the house with trees shading the bank. There’s a little bridge over the stream leading to the cabin, which we had to ride across. There are old ashes in a pile from bonfire sticks on the sand. The stream actually looks more like a waterhole that slimmed out to form a stream, carrying on down to wherever it led. There were little fairy lights that hung through the large tree that hung over the sandy area in the corner of the waterhole. Yeah, definitely a waterhole; this is far too large to be a stream.
I look back to Hella with fresh eyes. “It’s beautiful here.”
He smiles. “It’s not bad. The lights were Garret’s idea. He likes bringing his little shithead friends out here some weekends. I don’t mind as much. It gets him off the fucking iPad and out climbing trees and building shit.”
I chuckle, pointing to the other side of the house. “Big enough field for rugby training too?”
He sighs. “Probably. The entire outside is covered by grass with the stream right under it.”
“The stream goes around the house?” I ask excitedly.
“Yeah. You’d know if you’d hurry the fuck up.”
“Sorry.”
He tugs at my hand again, leading me to the front door. He swings open the door and I follow in behind him. “
Wow!
” I breathe. He closes the door behind me. Pointing to the stairs, he says, “It’s simple. Upstairs are the bedrooms, downstairs is the living room which overlooks the stream through the windows with an open-plan kitchen leading off of it, which then leads to the backyard through French binding doors.” He pauses to roll his eyes. “I had to add French or Meadow would kick my ass. And then there’s a game room down the back, behind the garage. It’s low-key with a little multimedia system and all that bullshit in there. I had them build that room for Garret.” He pauses again, watching me closely. I swallow down whatever the fuck was raising from inside me. It’s really nice here. Too nice. He continues. “Upstairs there are four bedrooms. One’s Garret’s. The shithead has his own shower and toilet. His reasoning?” He beams at me, walking toward the refrigerator and pulling out two bottles of water, handing one to me. “Was that he’d need it when he started bringing girls home. Don’t tell Jada, but I agreed; the little man needed his space away from Jada.” He stops, taking a pull of his water, his eyes watching me closely again. He places it back onto the counter. “Aside from all that, this is it.”
A small snort escapes me. “This is not just ‘it’, Hella. This is beautiful, I had no idea.” I’m in awe and, knowing my luck, the evidence is smeared all over my face.
He walks towards me, his hands coming under my armpits as he lifts me and places me on top of the black granite marble breakfast bar. He moves the stainless steel stools out of the way. “Have I freaked you out enough to have you run?” he asks, his eyebrow cocked. He runs his nose down the side of my temple and my legs widen for him. “Because if you did,” he whispers into my ear, his cocky smile pressing against my cheek, “I’d chase you.”
That wasn’t a threat. That was a promise. I might just be in over my head with him. Why doesn’t that scare me? It should. If I was smart, it would scare me. Right now, I’m not smart, not when it comes to Hella.
“I’m really stupid,” I whisper aloud.
“Hmmm?” he asks, running his tongue over my collar bone. Arousal erupts between my thighs and my eyes roll to the back of my head.
“Never mind.” I grip his hair between my fingers, pulling his head back before pressing my lips against his. I’m in control, right up until his lips land on mine, and then he takes control. He presses me back until my back hits the counter, then he crawls up to me. I open my legs wider for him until he’s resting in between, his cock pressing against my center. His head falls down to my face, his forehead resting against mine lightly and his chest heaving with each breath. Running my hands down his sides, his tongue draws out of his mouth as he runs it across my lips, his head tilting in the action.
I grasp his knife holster. The pop of me unclipping it sounds off around our silence and he smiles against my lips. “You wanna play, baby? Okay, we’ll play.” His hand comes down to mine where he takes the knife off me, all while licking, sucking, massaging, and dominating my mouth with his. It isn’t
too
much; it isn’t
enough
. I need him to possess me, to corrupt me, to own me inside and out. Every single inch of me needs to be touched, fucked, and licked by him. I am Emily fucking Rose on crack and Braxton Ward is my seventh demon.
The familiar cold metal presses against my hard nipple and I hiss, my eyes opening slowly to find Hella’s beaming blue eyes shaded by lust and darkened with need. He stretches my legs wider with his, his eyes searching mine the whole time.
“Do you trust me?” he growls, watching me closely as the blade travels past my risen, hard nipples and down my ribcage. Each time it descends over one of my ribs, electricity sparks beneath my skin, traveling straight to the middle of my thighs. I swallow, my chest rising and falling, the silence between us prickling and filling with our electric energy of lust, passion, and obsessiveness.
“In this context, yes,” I answer truthfully.
His eyes narrow briefly. “I’m not touching that right now, but I will.”
As quickly as the subject was raised, it’s forgotten. The blade continues down my ribs. His body lifts off of me as he peers up from under his thick lashes, his stare devilish and needy. He licks his bottom lip before running the tip of the blade over the area where the top of my thigh meets my center, and I throw my head back, taking in the sensations, the danger. Do I trust him with a blade down there? Not really, but I figure if he wants it to be fully operational, he won’t damage anything.
Then his mouth covers my clit, cloaking it with its warm, slick blanket, and my back arches. The blunt side of the blade presses against my inner thigh as he opens my thighs wider. I prop onto my elbows, watching as his tongue slides over my clit, his bulky arms rippling under the pressure of keeping my legs open and the blade pressing against my inner thigh. I relax, dropping my legs open completely.
“Shut your eyes, baby,” he whispers, the vibration of his deep voice pressing against my thigh.
I drop back down onto my back, my eyes closing as the cold tip of the blade slides slowly over my pussy. He stops over my clit, circling it softly, and a spike of terror surges through me before being covered by a cloak of longing. My chest heaves as my clit tingles with arousal, and my walls contract with the knowledge of what’s about to come.
Me—that’s what’s about to come.
His finger presses inside of me as the tip of the blade continues its harrowing assault on my clit. “Brax,” I whisper out. “I’m—I’m…”
His mouth drops down to my clit and the knife handle impels into me, my body squeezing around the handle as the peak of my climax reverberates through me. Explosions set off behind my closed lids and the deep hammering of my erratic heart rate thumps up the veins of my neck.
Coming down from my spiral of euphoria, he pulls the knife handle out of me and I let out a laugh, my hand flying up to my mouth. Hella throws the blade to the ground and pulls me toward him, my body sliding across the bar.
My hand comes up to his hard chest. “Wait.”
He pauses, his head tilting, the evidence of my arousal glistening across his lips. His hair spikes up on top of his head, his jaw set square and his eyes hooded with hunger. It is one of the most erotic things I have ever seen. All the top ten of my most erotic things I have witnessed involve Hella.
I jump off the island, my bare feet touching the wooden floors, my naked body in front of his bare chest and his unbuttoned jeans that hang right below that delicious V that travels down under his jeans. My mouth waters at the sight in front of me. My long hair falls over my shoulders and I drop to my knees, my eyes remaining sealed on his.
A slow, sensual smirk appears on the corner of his mouth, his fist gripping around my hair. My hands come up the waist of his pants as I pull them down until his cock springs free. No briefs. Why am I not surprised?
My tongue runs across my bottom lip before my teeth catch it. I tilt my head, examining his cock closely, a bead of pre-cum glistening from the tip, and I can’t help myself. My mouth wraps around the tip of his cock, my tongue circling around the warm softness as the light taste of salt and a mixture of soap hits my taste buds. I moan in approval, the vibrations of my moan pulsing over his shaft. My hand comes up to the base of his cock, my other cupping his balls as my head bobs up and down slowly, my tongue shielding my bottom teeth. A hiss escapes his mouth followed by a light groan, and my clit swells between my legs. I want this man. I want him so bad, my chest fills with empowerment.
At this moment, I need to feel this big, unattainable, unbreakable, psychotic biker come undone.
My head continues to bob as his shaft pulses lightly. A small trickle of cum slides down my throat. I pump him harder, my hand following my mouth, his rock solid dick molding around my hand as the tip of his cock is wrapped with my tongue. There’s no way I can fit all of him in my mouth—none at all. Something overcomes me; I need to
feel
him. I need to feel him come undone inside my mouth, brought to his knees by something so simple as my tongue. It’s liberating to know that I’m causing each groan that escapes him, each time his illuminated eyes roll to the back of his head, lost in his own ecstasy, and knowing I put him there. I’m addicted to this.
Before I know it, hot cum shoots to the back of my throat and I swallow every drop of him. After waiting until he has emptied himself in my mouth, I slowly pull off and let out a light suction on the tip of his still hard cock, licking up each little drip that may have escaped.
His eyes peel open. I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I need to kill whoever taught you how to suck cock like that.”
I roll my eyes. “Chill, it was porn.”
“Porn?” he asks, surprised.
“Well, let’s pretend it was.” I pat his chest softly.
His eyes narrow as he pulls his jeans back on over his still-solid cock. I’m impressed that he’s still hard. Scared a little, but impressed nonetheless.