Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) (16 page)

“I know,” I admit. “I shouldn’t have fucked you. I shouldn’t have, but I did and I can’t let you go,” he murmurs before he lifts his head and turns his neck to face me.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re mine.”

“This cannot work. It will destroy us both,” I whisper as I stand.

Bates doesn’t let me get far. His arm shoots out and his hand wraps around my waist pulling me between his legs. I stumble and have to put my hands on his shoulders for support. He looks up at me, the haunted eyes I’m so afraid of staring at me. His demons are so fucking dark, it frightens me.

“You leave me, and
that
will destroy me, Brentlee,” he mutters.

“Bates…” I say.

He shakes his head and stands before he moves around me, his front to my back. I feel his lips on my shoulder. I feel him pepper kisses from my shoulder to my spine and then I gasp when his hand swiftly and intensely pushes my chest onto the mattress. I gasp when I suddenly feel him rip my pants down to my thighs.

“No more, Brentlee. You’re not even going to think about leaving me. I won’t let you,” he grinds out, his breath fanning the bare skin of my ass.

I cry out when I feel his hand make contact with my left cheek.

“Shut up,” he growls. I snap my mouth closed. “You even think about leaving me again, about writing me off, I’ll do more than spank this gorgeous ass of yours.”

He spanks my other cheek before he repeats the move again, only in a different spot. Tears begin to fall down my cheeks when he’s on his eighth blow against my backside. He pauses behind me, and I think that it’s over, that he’s finished, but the burning sensation of his hand meeting my upper thigh proves me wrong.

“No more,” I plead through my sobs.

“One more,” he promises as his hand connects the top of my other thigh.

I whimper when I feel two of his fingers slide through my center. I hear him hum behind me before he thrusts those fingers deep inside of me.

“You’re crying, but your pussy’s wet, baby,” he whispers against my shoulder before he nips my skin.

I don’t respond to him. I don’t tell him that I’m used to pain with sex. I’m used to always
hurting
. He’s like Scotty, in a way; except, he doesn’t hide his brutish activities behind a suit. No, he’s a walking advertisement for it. I was fooling myself to think he was any different.

I feel my hips being tipped, and then, before I can take another breath, he’s inside of me. I hear him sigh above me once he’s fully seated, and I pinch my eyes closed, waiting for his brutal forceful fucking. I can take it—I’ve taken it all before.

“Brentlee, you’re my
tigritsa
. Don’t ever forget that. I am
me
, I can’t change that. However, I’ll always be good to you, baby,
always
,” he murmurs before he sweeps my hair to the side and tips his head to look at me in the eyes. “You’re mine.”

I don’t try to stifle my tears or to look away from him.

Bent over his bed, my pants halfway down my thighs, the rest of me fully clothed, with a bright red ass from his hand. I’m embarrassed, and mortified, and angry. He wants to control me, own me, and
possess
me.

There is no way out, either.

If I leave, I open myself up and paint a big red target for Scotty—and not only will it effect me, it’ll also effect Stella. I have to choose the lesser of two evils. Bates is good to me, he’s given us a safe place and he’s taken care of Stella and me without batting an eyelash. I can endure his forceful hand, as long as it doesn’t leak outside of the bedroom door. I can take what he’s giving, for protection and safety.

Bates doesn’t say anything else as he begins to slowly slide out of me before he sinks back inside. It’s achingly slow, and I moan at how good it feels, how surprised I am that he isn’t being rough. He fills me up completely. I want to hate him. I want to tell him to fuck off, but I can’t. Not when a simple touch from him ignites me. I’m too weak to turn away from him, and I hate myself for it.
Weakness
, my downfall, always.

“It’s only you,
tigritsa
. You’re the only one I want,” he vows as one of his hands slides from my waist to my clit. He begins to gently stroke me.

Bates’ other hand wraps around my hair as he begins to thrust harder, and
faster
, in and out of me. His fingers stroke harder and faster against my clit, as well. I can’t stop myself from grinding back against him, and when he pinches my clit, I arch my back up with a cry as I come. My pussy clamps down around his hard cock, and my whole body stiffens.

“Fuck, yes,” he moans before he releases me. Dropping his hands to my hips, he uses my body to fuck him.

I am limp and lifeless as he guides me up and down on his hard cock. Then, he pauses, seated inside of me, and with a roar he comes—
hard
.

I pinch my eyes closed as he falls on top of my back, his forehead pressed into the crook of my neck. I want to cry, but I can’t. I feel exhausted and completely wrung out. I have nothing left.

I thought by coming to the
Notorious Devils
, that by coming to Fury and Kentlee for help, I would feel empowered. I left my abuser, I left him before he killed me—I left him to save Stella. Instead, I’ve becoming spineless, again. I’m completely and totally dependent on a man, a man who I want to love so much, yet he’s not giving me much of a reason to. He’s saying some of the right things, and yet not committing.
What kind of woman leaves her husband and jumps into bed with another man and expects commitment?
I’m so fucked up, I don’t know which way is up or down.

I want Bates, but I want my freedom. The way he is now, I can’t have both. There’s no freedom that comes with being in his bed. Only more control. I feel like I’m choking, suffocating. My independence and freedom is within my grasp, but I can’t have it.

I do know that Bates will protect Stella. He’ll make sure no harm comes to her and that—that has to be my main focus. So if I have to be with other people, if I have to put on some kind of show to ensure her safety and mine—I’ll do it.

“I don’t want to fuck you in front of anybody, baby,” he murmurs.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever you want, Bates,” I resign.

He slips out of me, but he doesn’t walk away from me. Instead, he picks me up like a child, my pants still halfway down my legs, and he lays me down in the center of his bed. I look up at the ceiling, waiting as he wraps his arm underneath me and pulls me into his side.

“It matters, Brent,” he murmurs.

“You have different tastes now, I get it. I’m yours, so I need to fulfill those. I need to turn a blind eye if you want another woman, and I need to be waiting in your bed when you come home to me. I have a place. I can deal with that. I’ve done it all before,” I ramble.

I’m just me and I won’t be enough. I’ll never be enough for any man, let alone him—a man who has cravings and needs that I can’t fulfill on my own. I want to think that I’m strong enough to take him as he comes, but who could do that? Who could watch the man she has longed for, for a decade, be with another woman? I’m not that strong. It’ll kill me, slowly.

My inner thoughts are interrupted when I feel his fingers tangle in my hair. I’m not prepared when they pull and my neck arches back, my wide eyes meeting his pissed off ones.

“One taste will never change, baby, and that’s you. The other shit, my nightmares, what
I
think I need, we’ll figure that out as we go. Only want your pussy. Only you,” he murmurs before his lips crash against mine, taking them in a brutal kiss. His tongue forces its way inside of my mouth and his fingers tighten even more in my hair. He’s owning me, all of me, and I’m letting him. I can’t stop him; I’ll never be able to.

I surrender to him—I’m his, it’s all I have ever wanted and now I have it. I just hope that it’s what I need.

Always and forever.

Sniper

Asleep in my arms, her lips swollen from kissing me, her brown hair tangled and matted, I wonder if this will truly last. I enjoy watching her for a moment before I have to wake her up and take her home. She looks so young, the horrors of her life gone from her face while she rests.

She’s everything, my Brentlee, but
is she enough
?

I want her to be.

I want her to be enough so damn bad.

I’ll ruin her. She thinks she’s already ruined, but she’s not—
not yet
.

I wake her up and together we leave the clubhouse in silence. We’re on my bike, so luckily the trip to my place is quiet. Nothing but the wind whipping by us. Once we’re inside and Tammy leaves, Brentlee quietly walks back to the bedroom. I follow, but not before I peek my head into Stella’s room and see that she is indeed safe and sound for the night.

Once I make it back to my bedroom, I suck in a breath. Brentlee is stripped down, her face free of makeup and her bare skin exposed as she stands next to the bed. She doesn’t say anything, she just stares at me, and I wonder what she’s thinking for about two seconds before the blood leaves my brain and goes straight to my rock-hard cock.

“Brent,” I grunt.

She’s chewing her bottom lip and then she speaks.

“This is me, Bates. I’m nothing special. I’m just a woman who has been hurt one too many times. If you want me, you are going to have to take all of me. I’m insecure, I can be selfish, and I may not ever be what you need me to be. If you want me like you say you do, I have to be enough. I don’t want to live the way I did with Scotty. I can do it, I can sit and take whatever you’re willing to give me, but that’s not what I want,” she says.

It’s the most honest she’s been with me since I heard her nightmare of a life in that attorney’s office.

I don’t speak. I can’t. She’s being too raw.

Instead, I take the few steps over to her and wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her neck. I need her. I need to bury myself inside of her, to feel her around me, to know that she is real and mine. All fucking mine.

I’m never letting her go.

Sniper

“M
ornin’,” I murmur wrapping my arms around her from behind as she pours milk into a bowl of cereal.

“Good Morning,” she says stiffly.

“What you doin’ today?” I ask, trying to figure out just what in the hell is wrong with her.

“Nothing, resting,” she shrugs. I watch as she slides out of my arms and takes Stella her breakfast, avoiding me and eye contact at all costs.

“I got some shit to do for the club today, I might not be home until tomorrow morning,” I announce as I watch her.

“Okay,” she shrugs as she busies herself in the kitchen.

“Okay, fine,” I grunt.

I leave her in the kitchen, the awkward everything that filled the space behind me. But before I go, I crouch down in front of Stella who is munching on some sugar crap cereal.

“You be good for your ma, yeah?”

“Okay,” she says, grinning up at me as she chews her food.

“Yeah,” I murmur before I stand up and leave them.

I get on my bike and ride. I ride toward the clubhouse. I have shit to do and I need to get away from Brentlee. She’s cold as fucking ice this morning and she’s pushing me away. I’ll give her a little space while I work for the MC, something I’ve been neglecting lately, to be available for her. I’ve been doing the minimum, working at the
Devil’s Club
but not pulling my weight with my brothers.

“You good?” Drifter asks as I walk up to the bar.

“Yeah, what’s your plan for the day?” I ask.

“Gonna go and watch some activity that’s hit Fury’s radar,” he shrugs.

“Want some company?” I ask.

“Fuck, yeah. Hate scoping shit out alone; boring as fuckall,” he chuckles.

I follow Drifter out to our bikes and continue to follow him through the center and then to the complete opposite side of town, the outskirts.

“What’re we watching?” I ask after we back our bikes into some brush to keep them hidden. Drifter holds his finger over his lips to quiet my questions as he walks down a hill crouched down low.

“See those guys?” he asks, lifting his chin to a group of men in leather, in a circle talking.

“Yeah.”

“They ain’t flyin’ any colors, but they’re fuckin’ trouble. Just don’t know what they’re here for, yet. So we watch, and we wait.”

I look at the men, trying to place them, but I can’t. I have no fuckin’ clue who they are and I don’t see any tattoos marking them or affiliating them with another club. They’re blank. They aren’t one race either, so I can’t figure them out. At all.

“You get anyone else on this, try and figure them out?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of them.

“No, just you, me, and Fury know about it,” he mumbles.

They don’t do anything. A couple of them take phone calls, and then about two hours later they leave. They don’t drive into town, though; they head out and leave Drifter and me in a mass of confusion.

“What is their purpose?
Territory
? What?” I ask as I think aloud.

“No fuckin’ clue, but we’ll figure it out,” he shrugs. Together we walk back to our bikes and then ride to the clubhouse.