Wrecked: A Bad Boy Outlaw Romance (with bonus novel!) Page 9
“Don’t stop,” I pant, my voice hardly audible over the ocean’s activity outside, the moonlight shafting down on our bodies.
His tongue settles deeper into my crotch. He works on my slippery slit, rising to tap against my navel before once more drawing my clit into the warm cavern of his mouth and the surge of desire that follows pushes me towards climax.
Desire swells through my body. I call his name and claw at his scalp.
All the elements of the ocean seduce me—the waves pounding into the cliffs on the other side of the cave, the chill of the air, the scent of brine. It is as though I have become the sea myself, a siren, my entire body an erogenous organ, everything rippling out from my engorged labia to my thighs, hips and chest. My breasts ache for his mouth, the suction of his lips on my nipples.
His head moves away and I look down once more. The lips of my pussy gape so wide it looks as though I have been torn, the heavy knot of Deacon’s cock caught in shadow between his legs, twitching with anticipation,
My nipples pulse, aching for his touch. He rises up on my body, my arousal wet on his lips. His mouth closes over a single, tawny bud. The thrill of it is almost too much.
I don’t want to come yet. I tell him as much, whisper into the open air how much I want him inside me—the words that make me quiver.
My body becomes heavy and light at once, alien pheromones colliding inside me. I reach for his cock in the sleepy warmth of desire and pull him to my hole, beg him to take me—now.
I hook my toes against the rock and spread my legs wide, driven on by the earthy musk that rises from my slit. Taking my sides, he glides easily into my pussy, a shiver coursing down my spine as his weight settles upon me and I am filled from the very first stroke.
Despite the seawater and cold, my pussy’s slick with juices. He makes easy progress, balls heavy against the spheres of my buttocks, flattened against the rock, the head of him running deep, plunging further and further with every stroke.
I arch my back from the rock and beg him to take me harder.
He pulls away and flips me over, drawing me onto my knees, a hand fisting my hair together and pulling my head back, his cock driving so deep I wonder how I’ve possibly managed to take it.
Never have I been this fulfilled, this out of control.
He swats an ass cheek, the echo of the slap ringing off the rocky walls around us.
I suck in air through my teeth.
God.
He follows through on the other cheek, continuing to claw at my ass and pound harder, the constant slap slap slap of our bodies being brought together is music to my ears.
“Fuck me,” I command.
He grips a cheek with one hand, fingers deep in my flesh, his cock running to the end of me and lighting up new erogenous areas.
My breathing turns short and sharp. I struggle to fill my lungs, the pressure of my scalp easing as he lets my hair go, my head swinging forward, eyes opening to see my tender breasts swinging with each punctuated stroke, his balls battering into my clit further down the line.
I thrust my hips back, bucking and gyrating. I want all of him, absolutely everything he has to give.
I shiver when I feel his hand move away, a solitary finger trailing down my spine until it’s caught in the dark valley of my ass, the pad of it lightly tapping against my anus.
He surges forward, pumping and pounding without mercy.
I press my teeth together tight to ward off the climax that seems so close.
The finger against my ass hooks and slowly slides forward, the hot vice of my anus gripping it as it sinks forward, filling me and adding pressure to the cock running below.
It’s too much, the taboo. I spill over, shoulders falling together as I collapse forward and allow the gates to open.
The first convulsions arrive. Eyes wide, my body is lost to the spasms that grip and release his cock. I groan loud—half pain and half pleasure—feel the finger in my ass slide a little deeper.
“Come,” I beg. “Come.”
At my words, he rises up, all of his weight bearing down on my backside, my ass squeezing his finger, pussy clutching at his cock as he stiffens and releases, his seed warm and welcome inside me.
We remain like that, locked in ecstasy for some time. When he pulls away there’s a sadness, a loss that reverberates throughout me. I know then I cannot live without this man, my savior.
I roll over onto the rock, the warmth leaking out between my legs and my nipples still standing to attention tawny and tight. “God.”
He lies beside me, lightly stroking his cock, his cum continuing to dribble out of the tip. “Not quite, but I’ll take the compliment all the same. By the way, you know I saw you, don’t you?”
I lift up onto an elbow. “Saw me?”
“In the wardrobe that day, in my room. I thought the least I could do was give you a little show.”
I can’t believe it. “You knew I was there the whole time?”
His hand runs up my side, still electric. “Don’t say you weren’t enjoying yourself. I know what you were doing in there. I could smell you, actually stood in there a moment after my shower, breathed you in.”
I shake my head, can’t help the hot flush that fills my cheeks. “I’d never seen a guy masturbate before.”
“Never, not even a brother, your first crush?”
“I was a single child, and the boys at school? I think they were scared of me.”
His fingers sweep over my breast. “Their loss. You’re mine now.”
“That sounds awfully possessive.”
He pulls me on top of him, his still-hard cock crushed against my pussy. “Would you like to put in a complaint?”
I lean down and kiss him, loving the way his tongue fills my mouth, so playful. I break away and look into his eyes, the glacial nebulae contained within. “Where can I find this supposed complaint department?”
He lifts his head, nibbles at the lobe of my ear. “Take my cock in your mouth and find out.”
And that’s it. I am his, body and soul, his fuck toy, his lover, his world. And you know what? It feels fucking fantastic.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DEACON
Lux walks in wearing one of my tees… and very little else. For a split second jealousy flares with the thought my brothers are seeing her like this, my Lux, but then I realize they left earlier and the green monster subsides.
I take the pan off the heat.
Lux slides up behind me, a hand down my pants softly stroking my cock. “Whatcha cooking?”
I place the pan back onto the heat. “The secret to incredible scrambled eggs is to take them on and off the element, cook them real slow-like.”
She gently rolls my balls in her fingers as I speak. “I do like it slow.”
“And how about the heat? Is it enough for you?”
She withdraws her hand from my pants, the tease, skipping to the front windows. “It doesn’t look particularly warm today, does it?”
I switch off the stove altogether, let the heat of the pan finish off the eggs. I join her by the window. Fuck me. Her ass looks incredible, the bare underswell of it peeking out from the hem of her shirt.
She’s right. The weather’s turned outside, the big low that’s been all over the news finally made its way to us. I can see murky streaks of rain out over the ocean. “What do you say? Morning lesson?”
She turns, holding the bottom of my shirt and twisting it in her hand. “In bed or in the water?”
I lean down and kiss her, savor the sweet candy of her lips always moist and plump. “Most things in life are better when wet.”
She rolls her eyes. “My god, I’m sleeping with a human pick-up line.”
I reach behind her and grip that peachy perfection, pull her tight to me until my cock’s an iron rod between us. “Didn’t hear you complaining last night.”
*
The low’s coming alright, but so far it’s only bringing rain and wind, not swell. W
e hit up Little Stern, a slight offshore turning the waves glassy. Thunder bellows in the distance as we paddle out, the rain creating tiny craters in the water around us. The boys aren’t out. They must have gone further down the coast. We’ve got this one all to ourselves.
I place us on the edge of the break, watch as the back-spray peels through the sky, a sun shower washing over us as the sun itself finally breaks through, everything golden and glistening. Fuck Copperfield. This is magic.
Sitting up on her board, smiling, I know Lux senses it too. We share the same connection to the ocean. I feel sad for those who never get to experience it like we do, who spend all day chained to a desk sucking their boss’s dick. Why would you do it? Life is too short. I know that better than anyone.
Lux turns and starts to paddle. “This one’s mine.”
I watch her fall away into the wave. Her form has improved in leaps and bounds over the last two weeks. A bit more time in the pool and she’ll be ready for another run at the Bluff. It’s strange, but I’m not worried about her any more. It’s starting to slip away—the past, my baggage, the bullshit. I can feel myself growing lighter, opening up to possibility.
About fucking time.
I hear a ‘Whoo!’ and see Lux crest over the back of a wave, paddling over. She flips her hair over her wetsuit, her tiny feet twisted together in the sky, ankles locked together just like they were last night against the small of my back.
I want to be with her, whatever it takes. I let myself mope and self- flagellate for too long now. It’s time to move on. I never thought it would be, never thought I’d love again like I did with… Never mind that, it’s just time.
“You okay?” she calls, paddling up to me and pressing herself into a sitting position. “You look like you’re deep in thought.”
“I am.”
“Do tell.” At the same time she says it the rain picks up, drumming against the surface of the water, causing it to vibrate and quiver as if suddenly electrified.
I look up to the sky, the sun falling behind the clouds once more. “Life.”
“What about it?”
I look back to her. “It’s pretty good at the moment.”
“Because of me?”
I smile, and it’s genuine. “Because of you.”
“You’re just saying that because I’ve got a great ass.”
I laugh. “It’s true, but give me more credit than that, please. Finding a great ass in Millertown was needle-in-a-haystack hard. Even in California…”
“Millertown?” she queries, seizing on it.
Fuck. I’m saying too much, didn’t even realize I said it.
I nod. What’s the harm? It’s not like she’s going to do anything about it. “Shitty little Midwest town I was in before we all came over. Long story.”
She nods back, satisfied. She speaks louder to be heard over the rain. “Tell me why you’re here, really.”
Should I? I can barely make sense of it myself.
“I, we, had to start fresh, keep low.”
“You were in trouble back home?”
I nod. “That’s an understatement, but yes.”
“You don’t think they’ll find you eventually, whoever is looking for you?”
I’ve thought about this from every angle. Eventually they will come, but I sure as fuck haven’t made it easy. We came over on a cargo ship, I stashed our passports and documents somewhere safe as soon as we set foot, gave us all new names and identities. The boys chose. Razor? I still can’t believe I let him call himself that.
We had friends back home, people we’ll never see again, but that’s the price that had to be paid for our freedom. I can’t imagine any way it would ever be safe enough to go back.
I take a deep breath, turning and lining up a wave, paddling away. “They will find us,” I reply, “but when they do, I’m ready”.
A wave rises up and I paddle hard, Lux disappearing. I take off, drop fast and deep into the pocket. My hand pushed through the face of the wave, all thought lost to the ocean.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LUX
You can do it. You can do it.
Through the water I see a distorted Deacon watching over the pool, hands on his hips.
I thought ass-to-grass squats were bad, but this… I blow out a stream of bubbles and continue to carry the boulder across the bottom the pool, the end looming.
Come on. Come on.
My lungs are about to blow, my thighs burn with hellfire, and the rock finally taps the end of the pool. I spread my legs, letting it drop and releasing the dive belt.
I break through the surface gasping.
Deacon’s nodding down at a stopwatch. “Almost three minutes.”
I grip the edge of the pool scared if I don’t I’m going to join the boulder on the bottom.
This is probably the tenth time I’ve been in the pool training. We’ve been out here for hours some days, running drills and wrestling, lifting that damn rock and carrying it like the world’s heaviest baby, and all for what? To surf the unsurfable, to make my dad proud.
Yep. Big tick for insanity right there, Lux.
Deacon reaches down with a hand, I take it. He pulls me from the water and my legs are so weak I almost collapse onto him before steadying myself, hands against his chest.
He looks down but doesn’t try to remove them.
Slowly, I peel them away, still panting from the training. “Sorry.”
He’s smiling, more and more at ease with me every day. “No problem. I’ve got something else hard and heavy you can wrap your hands around later.”
I slap him in the chest. “Quiet. Your brothers will hear.”
“Like they didn’t hear you last night? You’re small, but when you come, damn. It’s like Thomas the Orgasm Engine passing by.”
I slap him with both hands. “I made it to the end by the way.”
He nods. “I saw.”
“So?”
“I guess you’re ready.”
I clap my hands together. “About time.”
“Not so fast, Hollywood. We’re going to wait for some moderate conditions at the Bluff, check it out before you pop your cherry when it’s really pumping.”
I press up against him, let my wet body soak through his shirt, my nipples pulling tight to attention. “Speaking of pumping…”
He holds me away. “Meet me in the shower.”
“You do know you can see into the bathroom from my bedroom, right? There’s this gap in the wall that’s—”
He winks. “I know. Thought you’d enjoy the peepshow.”
He leaves me with my mouth hanging.
“Don’t start without me!” I call.
*
Shipstern Bluff’s not working, so we head to Little Stern in the afternoon to work on my form.
We float on our boards between sets.
“It’s so peaceful out here.”
Deacon continues to stare into the distance, hands on his hips just like at the pool. “Compared to Cali, you mean?”
I’ve never noticed, but I swear his wetsuit is about two sizes too small. I splash water onto the surface of my board, watch if peel off. “You know what the popular waves over there are like. You’ve got to fight off fifty people to even get one. Don’t even get me started on Hawaii.”
Deacon nods. “It is nice having it to ourselves. Beats me how no-one’s noticed this place given the internet. I mean, there are guys surfing Antarctica for crying out loud.”
“You sound up for it?”
He laughs and points into to the ocean. “Swim about fifteen-hundred miles that way and you will be in Antarctica, but no, it’s not for me. I prefer my balls plum-sized, not fucking peas.”
I eye him. “I don’t know. If they were smaller maybe it’d be easier to get them in my mouth.”
He splashes water at me. “Whoa there, Debbie Does Dallas. I’m saving the kinky shit for later.”
“Who said I was vanilla?”
 
; He scoffs. “Come on. You’re telling me you’re into, what, bondage? You want me to show you my Red Room and say ‘Laters, baby’ whenever we part?”
“Okay. So I’m pretty vanilla, but maybe I want to become a little more sexually adventurous.”
“Good.” He gestures to the incoming set. “How about we get wet first?”
*
So far the pub’s barely seen more than ten people at a time, but tonight it’s jammed packed with box-shaped guys wearing sports jerseys taking up almost every table.
Behind the bar, I find a frantic Sarah doing fifty things at once.
When she turns to face me I see she’s ghost white, sweating like a pig in a bacon factory. “Busy tonight, huh?”
She hands over a beer. “Bloody football bus broke down up the road. Some idiot told the lads about this here watering hole and, surprise, here we are. Welcome to Hell.”
She leans against the bar panting.
“You okay?” I query.
She holds her stomach. “To be honest, I feel fucking terrible. Word to the wise, never buy oysters from Bob Williams.”
“Go home. I’ve got this.”
She looks around. “Are you a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic? There must be fifty of them here horny and half-starving. Are you going to service them all by yourself?”
I take a glass and begin to pull a beer. “We’re not going to hold a gang bang if that’s what you’re asking.”
She waves. “Fine, fine, but any trouble and you call me. I’ll come down here even if it’s in a hospital bed, and any major trouble, call Sergeant Wilson.”
“Will do.”
I watch Sarah disappear out the back door and turn to face hordes at the bar. “Who’s next?”
A redhead jumps onto the bar and drops his pants, holding his cock. “Me!” he shouts, much to the amusement of his friends. Thankfully, his football buddies drag him back down, but it doesn’t stop them coming.
An hour in and I realize I’m way out of my depth.
A lumberjack-looking individual with unruly beard is eye-sexing me from the corner of the bar. “Bet you’ve got a tight little set of titties under that top. Am I right?