Page 226 of Bad for Me

Her thighs rub together, and I see her arousal glisten over her pussy. She likes being spanked. Of course the most infuriating, perfect woman on Earth would love punishment, especially when all I want is to dole it out to her.

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she looks over her shoulder and says, “I don’t care that you’re a cult leader for a bunch of moronic assholes who aren’t smart enough to check the barn basements. Or that you think the sick, twisted feelings you have toward me are romantic. I’ll never feel anything but hate toward you, Jude. You tortured me my whole life, and I hope karma fucks you nice and hard.”

She must bedesperateto get her hide tanned. That’s the only reason she’d push me like that. Her face is flushed and her lips are parted, her breath clouding in front of her face. Instead of spanking her again and giving her what she wants, I trail my hand down her ass to her soaked pussy. My fingers caress her folds, gathering her slick and circling her clit.

“You’re a liar. Why are you this wet for me if you don’t feel something toward me?”

I continue harder, faster, until she’s close to coming on my fingers. Then I plunge two fingers inside her and grind the heel of my hand against her swollen clit.

“I’ve always wanted you. I lurked in the shadows, protecting you from afar because that’s all I was allowed to do. But now there’s nothing to stop me from making you mine.”

She tries to hold her moans in, but I hit a spot deep inside her that makes her scream.

“Jude!Oh fuck.” She sounds exactly like I thought she would in the throes of pleasure.

“That’s right, thistle, come for me. Obey me, baby,” I growl.

Her pussy strangles my fingers as she falls apart on them. I stroke her through her orgasm, then flip her over so we’re face to face, digging my fingertips into her soft flesh. I grab her face and kiss her. It’s not a slow or gentle kiss. It’s furious and rough, a clash of tongues and teeth. We greedily devour each other, Wisteria giving as much as she takes. Then she bites my bottom lip hard. I taste the coppery tang of blood, smiling to myself. I love that she likes it rough, because that’s the only way I know how to give.

We break free, and she peers up at me with her big, beautiful violet eyes.

“Jude–”

Gunshots ring out through the darkness. One lodges into the far car door, and I throw Wisteria Jean to the ground, shielding her with my body. I see the glint of a scope in the distance, but can’t make out exactly where the shooter is.

“Jude, what’s happening?!”

“Stay still, quiet,” I snap. “That’s not one of ours.”

Footsteps pound the dirt behind us as more shots ring out.

“Jude, it’s The Skulls. They breached the perimeter and are heading toward the northern barns,” Cain shouts as he crouches down next to us. “Colin gathered everyone and they’re mobilizing.”

“Wisteria, I need you to be calm,” I whisper in her ear. “We’re going to get up and go back to the house. I’ll cover you the whole time.”

She shakes her head. “No, no, let's stay here.”

We need to get her inside, where she’s safe, then meet the others. “Thistle, listen to me–it’s not safe here. We’re getting up in five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

I pull her up, and block her with my body as we run toward the house. Cain covers her from the front. The semi-automatic gunshots sound closer.

“Two hundred feet from the house,” he whispers. “We’re almost there, baby girl.”

I hear her sobs, then a single shot—it’s much too close. Pain slices through my shoulder, and hot liquid spreads down my arm. I stumble, falling into the bush by the front door.

“Fuck!” My arm is killing me, but the wound feels superficial.

Wisteria helps me up. We get back inside, and she bursts out crying.

“Jude,” she sobs. “Are you okay?” She rips my cardigan off, then Cain uses some scissors to cut my tee shirt off, putting pressure on the wound with it.

“Yeah, thistle, I’ll be okay. It’s just a flesh wound.”

“Doc is going to be here soon,” Cain announces. “I gotta help Colin, can Wisteria stay here with you?”

This will change our plan, but the cat is already out of the bag anyway. I doubt threatening Mandy did any good, so people probably already suspect she’s back.

“Yeah, go.” He leaves a gun on the coffee table before running out the door and locking it from the outside. I hold the shirt to my wound and continue to put pressure on it.

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