Page 7 of Bully's Darkness
“I’m not comfortable talking to—”
“Live a little,” she cuts in. “Face it, Bully chose the club over you, Livvy. You wasted five years over that arse, so kick back and relax. Enjoy a night with your friends. I’m not saying marry this guy, but at least chat and remember what it was like before Bully came along and stole my sister.” Her words make my heart ache, and I give a slight nod. Bria brushes my hair from my face and smiles. “Besides, they’re fit.”
I sit opposite Darren, and he gives me another award-winning smile. “You had a bad experience?” he asks. “With bikers,” he adds to clarify.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I mutter, grabbing the sours and topping my glass.
“Suits me,” he replies, grabbing a second glass and holding it up for a top-up. My phone buzzes again, and I snatch it from my bag, opening the text message.
Bully: Found you.
I frown, staring at the words before looking around frantically. If he sees me talking to another guy, let alone a biker, he’ll end up right back in prison. I stand abruptly. “I have to go.”
“But we’ve barely spoken,” Darren says, his tone teasing.
Bria is nowhere to be seen, and I groan, typing out a text to tell her I left and to call me when she gets home. Lisa glances my way, and I reiterate the message to her. “Are you okay?” she asks with concern.
I nod. “Just tired,” I lie. I don’t want to drag them all away from their night out because of Bully.
I’m almost at the exit when a large hand slips around my wrist and tugs me to turn. Bully smirks, stepping so close, I have to tip my head back to look at him. His hand automatically slides around my throat in a loose hold, and I get that nervous, excited feeling in the pit of my stomach.
As if he senses it, he grips a little tighter and slowly drags his lips past my cheek and to my ear. “Told you I was coming.” My heart slams hard, and my breaths quicken. Heat pools between my legs. “Your place or mine?” he asks.
“It’s not a good—”Ideadies on my lips as he cups my cheek with his spare hand and kisses me until I’m breathless.
“Yeah, I heard all that before. But I ain’t asking twice, Liv.”
“The Marriott,” I murmur, regretting it instantly. When Bria finds out about this, she’s gonna gut me like a fish, but I don’t stop myself from following him from the bar and out into the street.
I stare at our joined hands as he leads me through the crowds of party animals and towards the hotel I’d carefully picked over three months ago. When I could see an end in sight to his sentence. Everything seemed much less complicated back then.
His tattoos cover his hands and crawl up his arms, spanning across his back and chest. I’ve forgotten exactly how many he’s got, but he added to them in prison.
His tattoos were the first thing I’d noticed when we met in a bar all those years ago. I’d found him outside after a fight, waiting for his brothers to come pick him up. I insisted on going to the hospital with him, and we were pretty inseparable after that . . . until he went inside.
The hotel is a few streets away, and as he leads me inside, the bright lights and twinkling chandeliers startle me into panic mode, and as if he senses it, he turns on me and presses me against a pillar by the reception desk. “Don’t overthink it,” he warns, his eyes burning into mine. “Forget all the shit. It’s just me and you, here, alone. Me and you, darlin’.”
I give a slight nod, and he relaxes, stepping back so I can approach the reception desk. “I have a room booked in the name of Bull.”
The receptionist taps away on her computer before smiling and sliding a key card across to me. “Room three hundred and one, on the third floor.”
I take the card and head for the lift with Bully right behind me. My mind races as we step inside and I press for the third floor. “You’re doing it again,” he says, slipping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head. I open my mouth to speak, but he places a hand over it and nuzzles against my neck. I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of his bristles against my skin. “I don’t wanna talk,” he tells me. “I haven’t been in a room alone with you for five years, darlin’. The last thing I wanna do is talk.” He takes his attention back to nipping my neck, and as we step from the lift, he keeps hold of me.
I press the card against the door and it opens.
Bully doesn’t give me a chance to look around as he kicks the door closed and pushes me against it, kissing me hard.
Bully
Feeling her body pressed against mine compares to nothing else. It just feels right. My hands travel up her thighs and under her skirt, where I hook my thumbs into her knickers and drag them down her legs, kneeling before her while she steps from them. I stuff them in my pocket and smile up at her. She watches cautiously as I push her skirt to her waist and press my nose between her legs. I’ve spent years trying to remember this exact scent.Her scent.
My hands cup her peachy backside. It’s fuller than I remember,sexier. Her legs part as I move closer, dragging my tongue through her folds and tasting her. I close my eyes, savouring her taste before pressing my mouth back there and licking her. She shudders, the sounds of her breathy moans spurring me on.
Liv’s fingers run through my hair, gripping it at the roots and pulling my mouth closer as she lifts one leg and hangs it over my shoulder. She grinds her pussy against my face, and I lap her juices faster as she shivers through an orgasm.
Her breathless pants fill the silence as I rise to my feet and unbuckle my jeans. She eyes me warily, and I can see doubt creeping in. I shake my head cos there’s no fucking way we’re going over that break-up bullshit she spouted earlier. I kiss her, groaning at the thought of her tasting herself on my tongue. “We waited far too long,” I murmur against her lips as I grip her legs and lift her against the door. My cock presses at her entrance, and she grips my shoulders as I ease into her. “Fuck,” I pant, squeezing my eyes closed as she tightens around me. “You feel too good.” There’s no way I can control this as my body begins to move of its own accord, slamming into her at a punishing pace. She clings on for dear life, crying out with each thrust.
I turn us, moving away from the door and carrying her over to the bed, where I lay her down and continue the onslaught. “We’re not over,” I grit out, fisting her hair and pulling hermouth up to meet mine. “You’re my old lady,” I add. She remains quiet, her eyes avoiding mine as I take what I need. “Say it,” I hiss, nipping the delicate skin of her neck.
