Snare: Road Kill MC (A Novel)
Read Snare: Road Kill MC (A Novel) Online
Authors: Marata Eros
SNARE
A Road Kill MC Novel
New York Times
Bestselling author
MARATA EROS
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Marata Eros
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to a legitimate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover art by
Willsin Rowe
Editing suggestions provided by
Red Adept Editing.
CONTENTS
A secret baby. A stepbrother that can't forget her...
Forbidden Love
Some women are untouchable.
Like a stepsister who's alive because of his sacrifice.
Snare is part of the Road Kill MC, and as sergeant at arms, he takes his role as protector seriously.
He always has.
Snare doesn't discuss the scar that almost took his eye or the ultimate protection it provided for the only woman he's ever loved.
The sweet butts provide the distraction he needs and the emotional disconnect he craves.
Snare is married to the club. He doesn't need a woman who disappears without a trace.
Guilt
Sarah tries not to think of Snare. It was
one
night. And he paid for it—they both did.
The nightmares don't even interrupt her dreams. Much.
Except for the secret she keeps of the child they had together, life couldn't be more perfect.
Sarah knows that Snare isn't the type of man to toy with—or lie to. But when her abuser took things too far, Sarah couldn't allow Snare to protect her any longer. She fled and hasn't seen her stepbrother since.
The price for their love was more than fists and rage.
It was flesh and blood.
Can Sarah hide the truth from the one man who protected her with his own life? Will Snare deny his true feelings because of scars that run more than skin deep?
DEDICATION
Cherri-Anne
Tamara Rose Blodgett:
Marata Eros:
A Terrible Love
(
New York Times
bestseller)
One of Many
(co-authored with Emily Goodwin)
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Snare
Five years prior
Sara's hips are small in my hands, and the bare skin of my palms rasps against the silkiness of her ass cheeks.
“Snare”—she breathes hot against my neck, and I shiver—“I'm scared.”
I am too.
Fucking terrified. But I want her more than I'm afraid of loving her. So we'll have sex, in the small, dark closet, and no one will be the wiser.
Not her stepdad.
Not even her stepbrother who's about ready to bury his aching hard-on inside her.
Sara reaches up, her hand lightly tracing the scar that almost took my eyeball, and I tremble a second time under the gentle touch of her finger.
I'm too far gone for tender. I've been soft with Sara a hundred times. A thousand times I've laid my tongue on her body, my fingertips on her willing flesh—my mouth everywhere she has skin. This time I take.
I warn her again. “It'll hurt, baby. Bad.”
Sara nods.
She's been briefed. I've prepared her in every way a guy that's twenty-one years old and desperate to be inside her could.
Using my hips, I glide the tip of my dick back and forth on the wetness of her, clit to her entrance, knowing I shouldn't take this next critical step, not being able to help it. I'm one of those men who has to physically own what's mine.
Sara's pussy's been mine since I've been defending her against my father for the last three years. When Sara moved into our house, I claimed her against my will. Not with my body.
With my soul.
She widens her knees to accept me within the cradle of her hips, and I slip that first hot hard inch inside. Sara arches her back, and a bead of sweat slithers from my temple to my jaw, hanging like a wet gem of lust from my chin.
It dangles, falling between her slick breasts.
I suspend myself above her, poised and stiff as a plank. My body. My dick.
Better to move fast
. She's as ready as someone can get a virgin without the finality of stabbing their innocence away.
I shove forward.
Sara yells inside the heat of the closet, her muscles fighting the intrusion of my cock.
Guilt and a perfect lust beat the fuck out of my insides, even as my balls beg to unload inside her.
“Hurts,” she whimpers with a hitch in her voice. Her eyes shine in the weak light of a single candle glowing in the corner.
I lower softly onto her body, my dick twitching for depth even as I hold back from rocking further.
I smooth back from her face the sweaty hair that blends with the depths of the closet. Looking into the pools of her eyes, I see the dark secret treasures shared between us, and she sighs with me impaled inside her, relaxing deliberately.
Sara's lips stretch into a tiny smile. Relief, pleasure—and pain—ride the balance on her full mouth, softly parted to accept my kiss.
It's not sweet. It's brutal, hard—crashing down between us like a car wreck of mouths, tongues, and heat. Sara's as tight as I knew she'd be. I tried to forget her while we lived together as brother and sister.
Sharing meals.
Time.
Abuse.
But it's not enough.
There was no other girl that could wipe away Sara from my mind. Forbidden to have. Destined to protect.
She's offered herself. I accepted.
I pull out, never taking my eyes from hers, kissing her again with a hard churn of lips, wrapping my hand into her hair and fisting it at the base of her skull.
I pin her beneath me like a captive.
I rock back inside, and her muscles caress my cock on the way in, and I shudder, my head dumping forward, her longish hair sliding across her breasts.
Sara moans, arching as her hands tangle in the loose strands that whisper over her skin. Her thumb presses on the small knot of scar tissue that rides just at the arch of my eyebrow, and she strokes it.
I sink to the end of her, and she gasps. “Ahhh, Snare.” I hold still, knowing I've got a big cock. For a virgin, it'd be a tree trunk, but I'm gentle when what I want to do is pound her into the ground.
I know only one way to fuck, but Sara makes me relearn who I am piece by struggling piece, moment by moment.
Sara makes me want to be a better man.
Her hips rise, angling me inside sharper, further.
I groan. “Don't, baby. You'll make me go.”
I prop on my elbows, smelling laundry soap, Sara—everything that smells like home in this space we've been meeting for the last three years.
I cover her breasts with my hands, kneading the soft flesh against my calloused fingers. I tweak the nipples into tender peaks for my mouth. Lowering my face to meet the sensitive flesh, I suck her nipple in deeply as I mound her tit.
Sara trembles.
The earlier work I'd done on her pussy is helping. I arc my body over hers, my lips still wrapped on her nipple, and slide my free hand between our slick bodies.
My fingers find her clit, and I press the pad of my thumb onto the tiny wet bundle of nerves between her pussy lips.
“Snare!” She yells my name like a prayer.
I answer, sliding my thumb down as I roll her nipple between my teeth and stuff my dick the rest of the way inside, kissing the end of her.
Throbbing to fill her.
I hook my thumb back up, landing on her clit and pressing down as I move to the other nipple.
Her eyes find mine as I suck, and her tight pussy gives a deep pulse around my cock.
I can't help myself. Sara's nipple drops from my mouth, and I jerk my head up, trying to fight the need to fill her.
Losing.
I move with the urge and slap my palms on the floor on either side of her head. Swinging my hips, I move out of her. Slam home into that wet tight goodness.
Sara lifts her hips to catch my thrusts.
My lips part, my jaw going slack. “Close,” I say in a voice that's more breath than sound.
Then Sara goes first. Her great rhythmic squeezes and releases strangle my cock.
I can't stop—don't want to. My toes curl as I come from the bottom all the way to the top. My scalp tingles like it's on fire. I plant my prick as deep as it'll go, unloading my release inside my stepsister's pussy. The woman I love. The woman I can't have.
The woman I'd kill to protect.