Aloha, page 93
“That’s a lot to think about,” I say over the crowd. “But my lady and I have plans tonight.”
Coach Kosta hands me his card. “We’d love to have you next season.”
I take his card to be polite.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Three players—Leo Stone, Evan Smith, and Bass Guilietti—walk over.
Leo shakes his head. “Seriously, man, Kosta is the best and has great connections. We’re all heading pro. Theo Rivera and you would be unstoppable.”
“Something to think about.” I shake all their hands as Nalani says goodbye to her new friend, Mrs. Costello. Then, finally, we’re heading to the parking lot.
As I unlock the door to the old Jeep I bought when I arrived, with money I saved over the last three summers, I can’t help but think about what endorsements would mean to my family, to me, to my community, and to the ability to take care of Nalani the way I want to.
I open the door, and she gets in. Before I close it, however, she turns toward me. “Talk to me.”
“That woman was a trip.”
“You have no idea.” Her eyes widen, and so does her smile. Then she reaches out and takes my hand. “We can unpack that bag later. Koa, this could be life-changing.”
I motion between us. “This is life-changing. I’m not willing to walk away from you.”
“We have plenty of time to figure out what’s best for you. Right now, you should kiss me—”
“Not here. I won’t be able to stop.”
Smiling, she turns in her seat. “Then let’s go.”
“Who’s home?” she asks as I walk briskly toward the house.
“No one. We have the place to ourselves for three hours.”
She tugs on my hand, and I stop and look back. “Then, why the race?” She points down at her feet. “These boots have killer heels.”
I grab her hips. “I like you in flip flops.” I then lift her up. “Wrap those legs arou—yeah, just like that.”
She grabs my hair and pulls me toward her.
I’m not sure whose lips touch whose first, but there’s no slow build-up to this. A fucking bomb goes off, one that changes me forever.
Her mouth is hot, and sweet—so fucking sweet—and again, I’m faced with the fact my imagination is shit. I look forward to being continually proven wrong by her.
I’m not sure how we make it in the house, let alone up the stairs and into my room, but we do. I even manage to get her boots off of her.
I set her on the bed, pull her shirt over her head, and toss it to the ground. “I can’t wait to taste your tits.”
She pushes down my track pants and gasps.
“Yeah, the tour.” I chuckle. “Forgot to mention it.”
She grips my cock.
“Fuuuck.”
“It’s pierced!”
I can’t see her face—her hair is curtaining it—but I don’t miss her tongue swirling around the tip of my dick, or her sucking on the barbell.
“Fuck yes,” I groan. “But hold up.” I lift her up from under her arms and stand her on the bed. She glares down at me. Then I unbutton her jeans and laugh. “I’ve been dreaming about devouring your pussy for years. I get to go first.” After I remove her jeans and hot pink thong, I try to grab her.
Stepping back, she says, “Get naked.”
I do so quickly.
“Now lay on the bed.”
I arch a brow. “This how it’s going to be?”
She rolls her eyes, and I do what I’m told.
When she stands over me, pretty pink pussy staring down at me, I groan, “Fuck yes.”
She turns and faces the end of the bed, lowering herself.
I breathe out, “Goddess.”
Our mouths are on each other, feasting, pleasuring, taking and giving, and when she comes, I bury my face against her, lapping up her wetness and bathing in her essence.
I try to stop her when my balls draw up.
“Clean?”
“Fuck yes,” I groan.
She doesn’t relent; she swallows everything I give her and doesn’t stop until I’m bone dry. Then she moves off of me, pushing her hair over her shoulder and swiping the back of her hand over her lips. My heart briefly stops.
“I could lie here and look at you forever.” I curl up to a seated position. “I’d give my left nut to do that.” Gripping the back of her head, I pull her into another kiss, expecting it to be less heated than the first. It’s not.
I move over her, and she shoves her hand between us, dragging my still hard cock through her scorching wet folds.
I hold the sides of her face. “I’m not ever leaving you.”
She nods. “I know.”
Seven words between us mean more than the three words some people wait their entire lives to hear.
“I need to get a condom.”
“I’m on the pill.”
“Never gone raw.” I push in slowly. She’s so tight, so hot, so wet. “I’m never fucking leaving you. I wanna die inside your pussy.”
She gasps as I push in further, eyes rolling back.
“You feel exquisite.”
“You’re huge.”
“Am I hurting—”
“Doesn’t matter,” she pants out. “I was meant for you.”
“Fucking hell,” I groan as I bury my face in her neck and thrust in fully.
She whimpers, moving her hips slowly, getting accustomed to my size.
Quickly, we hit a rhythm, our bodies moving together in a way that I’ve never moved with anyone.
“Not ever going to be able to hold back with you,” I groan out, seated deep inside her, before pulling back out and slamming in again, because I need to be in her. I need it more than I need air or water.
“Better not.”
We go thrust for thrust until we both come again. This time, we do it looking into one another’s eyes.
As we lie sated, still touching each other’s bodies, she whispers, “I think you should consider Kosta’s offer.”
“You’d be willing to take that shot with me? Because I was serious when I told you I was never leaving you.”
“Wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise,” she says, lips to my chest. “Next season?”
“Next season.”
The End
This hot little novella is part of the Taking The Shot series of stand-alone novels. It was written as a complete stand alone, short story for the Aloha Anthology.
The Mercer Curse
Prequel to The Jewelry Box Series
Pepper Winters
To those who love a little pain with their pleasure.
Chapter 1
Q
* * *
“MAÎTRE?”
I groaned and squeezed the back of my neck.
Whenever she called me that, bad things happened.
Hot, dark, deliciously bad things.
“Esclave…I told you. Give me thirty minutes and then I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life. Distrayez-moi et vous saignerez pour l’erreur.” (Distract me and you’ll be bleeding for the mistake).
The soft whispers of her bare feet on carpet sounded behind me. “I haven’t come for you to pleasure me or punish me, master.”
“Oh?” I ran my fingers over the figures of the latest building development in Amsterdam. “Why are you here then? Corrupting me like you always do…”
She didn’t reply, creeping up behind me like a girl who wanted to provoke every despicable monster that lived within me.
I shuddered.
I felt the darkness unfurl and get ready to play.
The short leash I kept myself on had ensured I’d lived a lonely, miserable existence before Tess tripped over my doorstep, spat with such intoxicating fury, and ensured I tumbled right into the darkness with her.
She was the only slave I’d ever touched.
The only woman I’d ever loved.
The only mate I wanted, now and forever.
Doing my best to ignore her games, I kept my gaze on the spreadsheet. I’d been offered the deal by a middle-ranking Dutch Mafia member—a bastard who thought he could go behind his bosses and make some coin on the side by enticing me and my overly inflated bank account.
Pity for him, I knew exactly what he was and cast out my line, fishing with bait I knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
I’d said I needed a special sort of incentive to work with him.
He’d laughed and told me to meet him in the red-light district.
I’d gone, purely because I’d heard rumours. And rumours always started in truth. He dabbled in slavery. Sold living, breathing girls and boys as if they were coins to buy him power.
It was up to me to see if that was true.
And do something about it if it was.
Despite my wife’s fury, I’d flown to Amsterdam three days ago, allowed the bastard to seduce and flatter me, but the moment he’d closed the hotel suite’s door and paraded a whimpering sixteen-year-old girl shot to hell with heroin toward me, he’d signed his death warrant.
The girl was a gift.
For me.
Like always.
My reputation preceded me in almost every country on this godforsaken planet.
Police knew who I was.
Criminals knew who I was.
Both of them had a different story, truth mixed with lies online, and neither of them were the wiser.
I’d swallowed down my rage as the broken, skinny girl stumbled toward me. I’d allowed her to crumple at my feet and pretended to listen to the bastard’s demands.
I would’ve killed him right then but…he wasn’t the only one trying to forge this alliance. Instead of giving into my bloodlust, I kept my smile in place, accepted the girl, and flew her back to my estate in France on my private plane.
His death would come…once I knew how many other girls he had and where I could find them.
Tess didn’t blink an eye as I carried yet another slave into our marital home. She merely summoned Suzette, told Mrs Sucre to get cooking, and Franco pushed open the door to one of the many rooms for this purpose as I strode through opulence and tucked the drugged-up girl into safety.
The doctor had come.
Two days into the girl’s detox and she’d finally stopped screaming. She’d now turned catatonic instead.
“You haven’t touched me since you returned from Amsterdam,” Tess murmured as she pushed me back in my chair and deliberately sat her pretty ass on my desk, squashing my paperwork. “You went without my permission. You put yourself in danger. You made me mad, Q Mercer, and you know what happens when you do that.”
I smirked and reclined. “Remind me, wife…what happens when I make you mad?”
“I make you lose your mind.”
My blood heated. “And what is your plan tonight, esclave? How are you planning on making me come undone?” My hand dropped between my legs, fisting the hard-on she caused every time I caught her scent. “Because I will be coming…whether you will too is a matter of discussion.”
“Oh, you’ll make me come, husband. You won’t have a choice.”
I chuckled and stroked myself. “Bold, Tess. Very bold.”
“You left me.” Her hands went to the belt holding her satiny, sexy dressing gown closed. The faint lilac gown had looked stunning on its hanger in the lingerie shop in Amsterdam, but on her?
She made it fucking sinful.
“You brought home another woman.” She unthreaded the bow, letting the material slip like water from her delectable skin. Skin I’d marked, bit, branded, and whipped. Skin that bloomed a perfect shade of red. Skin that always healed so I could do it all over again.
A tremor ran through me as my cock hit full mast, growing painful in my slacks. With steady hands, I reached for my belt.
Her eyes shot to where I unhooked the leather, no doubt remembering the many times I’d had her spread over my desk, her hips in the air, and the crack of my belt landing against her ass.
“Go on…” I whispered, my French accent thickening like it always did when she tempted me. “Tell me why I should tolerate you being mad at me for saving yet another slave or doing what I must to repent for what I am.”
“What you are?” With a shudder, she spread her legs, planting her heels on my rock-hard thighs. “What you are is mine. My monster. And I want to get mauled.” The gown fell away, leaving swathes of skin from collarbone to pussy. The swell of her breasts teased me, the Q branded over her heart enraged me, and the wetness glimmering on her thighs fucking broke me.
I groaned. “Je vais me régaler de toi, femme.” (I’m going to feast on you, wife).
“Promise?” Her hand trailed down her belly, heading south.
Unzipping my slacks, I pulled my cock out, digging my thumb painfully into the tip. I couldn’t look away as she swirled her clit. Her long, wavy blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, the soft light from my desk lamp caping her in shadows and secrets.
Tess had always been beautiful. Even when she’d broken my black fucking heart, she’d been the most stunning creature I’d ever seen.
But now that she was my wife?
Now that she mine in every way—blooded, bonded, and betrothed…I couldn’t look at another woman without comparing them. Comparing their strength to hers. Their light to hers. Her ability to make me feel when everyone else in the world made me shut down.
“Don’t you want a taste, maître?”
“Merde.” My heart pounded. My ears rushed with white noise. I wanted her moaning in pleasure and screaming in pain. I wanted to hug her and hurt her at the same time. I wanted her blood on my tongue and her cum on my fingers. I both loved and hated her. Her power. Her fight. Her undeniable claim over me.
The one girl who’d come to me unbroken.
The one girl to break me in return.
She moaned as her finger dipped inside. The nightgown darkened beneath her ass with her need.
Swallowing hard, I growled, “If you get that paperwork wet, you’re in trouble.”
Moaning, she tipped her head back. “You know what your threats do to me.”
“Fuck yes, I do.” I shot up from my chair, fisting my cock with one hand and snatching at her hip with the other. Yanking her to the edge of the desk, paper fluttered to the floor, but I didn’t give a fuck.
Tess deserved to pay for making me this senseless. She needed another endless night in chains while I did whatever I damn well wanted to her.
I wanted to taste.
But not the part of her she was expecting.
Grabbing the sharp letter opener glinting by my lamp, I dropped my head between her thighs. The scent of her arousal made a ripple of need work up my cock. She always did this to me. Made me too eager. Too willing to blur the lines between husband and beast.
Her breath turned thin and quick as I blew a stream of air on her clit.
“Q. Yes. God, please…”
Keeping my eyes locked on the most vulnerable part of her—the part no one else would ever see or touch unless they wanted to have their heart ripped out by my bare hands—I dragged the letter opener along the inside of her trembling thigh.
She stiffened at the sharpness.
She stopped breathing as I dug the point into the crease where her pussy met her leg. Such a delicate place. Paper thin skin, easily damaged, and beautifully bruised with spiderwebs of arteries and veins.
“You couldn’t give me an hour to finish, wife? You had to come and interrupt me.”
“I missed you.”
“I wouldn’t admit that if I were you.” I dipped my head and ran my tongue from her wet entrance to her tight little clit. “I’ll get a god complex.”
“Don’t care.” She shuddered as I nipped her, dragging my tongue back to her entrance, my hand tightening around the letter opener as a flush of her desire coated my lips.
“You don’t care that I hold your life in my hands?” I bit her again, making her cry out. “You don’t care that I get off knowing I could so easily hurt you?”
She squirmed on my desk, locking onto the two words that’d become an awful aphrodisiac between us. Between a sadist and his masochist. Between two monsters who’d found each other in the dark.
“Hurt me,” she breathed.
“I thought you’d never ask.” I fell on her pussy, lapping up her every drop of need, biting, laving, driving my tongue as deep as it would go. Her moans came quick with intoxicating gasps.
I let her think I would take her to the edge. That I would let her come on my tongue. Her thighs clenched, her toes dug into my thighs where she still had her feet planted. Her moans turned to whimpers. The first squeeze of her pussy around my tongue—
Ripping my face from her, I soared upright and pressed the letter opener right over her jugular.
My cock speared up, sticking out from my suit. I was fully dressed, and my Tess was naked on an altar to be eaten. So pretty. So pure. So perfect.
My teeth ached to bite. My tongue burned to taste.
Her eyes met mine with a flash of condemning black fire that also burned inside me. Fire that only grew hotter the longer we played.
Ever so slowly, she turned her neck, surrendering to me, giving me every shred of trust and submission. “Do it.”
My lips pulled back as I traced her vein with the small stationery dagger.
My black heart pounded. My lips, still coated in her desire, stung for a different sort of flavour. One far more intimate than sexual pleasure. One of sickness and depravity. One that I needed to sate because her blood was my temporary cure. A shot of medicine to restrain myself for another day.
I didn’t look away from her as I pressed the dagger just a little harder.
She flinched and moaned.
Everything inside me froze into predatory stillness as the first bead of ruby welled on her throat. The colour. The glisten. Her lifeforce and very essence.
Fuck.
Crushing her into my desk, I rocked my cock through her drenched folds as my mouth latched onto the droplet.
