Page 40 of Executing Malice (Jefferson Rejects #4)

“Why would I do that, Leila?” He nibbles on my earlobe. Tugs with his teeth. “Especially when you want this. ”

I want to cum, not get tortured in public, but his hand is lifting and sliding down my belly, tucking between the flicker and my swollen mound.

His fingers pinch my bar. Tugs. White noise explodes between my ears even as the film starts across the screen.

Then, because he’s a twisted sadist, he pulls me up, dislodging the plugs and leaving my openings empty and swollen, but if I think he’s finally giving up, I have never been so wrong.

The contraption is unlocked from the seat and tossed into the storage compartment.

I’m turned over with my head to the handlebars and my legs splayed over the edges of the bike.

He ignores my protest by wrenching my arms over my head and cuffing them to the handles.

My ankles are thrown wide on either side so I’m sprawled across my back.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, testing the steel bracelets, hoping they’d come undone easily, but they only cut into my wrists. “We’re going to get caught.”

“Only if you’re a bad girl and get too loud,” he corrects, standing over me with the pale flickers of film light dancing over the heat in his eyes. “But if you’re a good girl, I’ll give you my cock. Get you nice and used to every bar before Halloween.”

Our situation momentarily lapses from my brain as I latch on to that information.

“What’s happening on Halloween? ”

His fingers drift to my first button and pops it open. Then the next. Carefully, he works his way down my dress, undoing fasteners until the folds slip open, baring me to him and anyone who might happen to glance back.

“Be a good girl and you’ll find out.”

I’m tied naked to a bike, what choice do I have but to obey as he leans in? His fingers trail from my collarbone down to my chest. They trace over my nipples. Tease the bars. Roll the helpless little bud beneath his thumb. Every graze makes me shiver and arch against the restraints.

I bite back a moan. The seat presses into my back as I arch to offer him everything.

He leans down and lets his lips ghost across the side of my neck.

His filthy, depraved promises of everything he’s going to commit to my body burns the flesh as he descends down my chest. One hand slips between my thighs to explore and tease my drenched apex.

My clit throbs under his touch and I whine.

“Are you ready to take me?” He laps at my nipple and lets the cool breeze follow suit with a sharp nip. “Ready to get my cum deep in your cunt?”

I feel like all I’ve done my whole life is be ready for this. I hadn’t expected it would happen at the back of a drive in, surrounded by people I know, but I would rather die than ask him to stop.

“Yes. Please. ”

I even anchor my heels into some part along the bottom of the bike and spread my knees in invitation.

Dante chuckles coldly and moves to stand between them.

“I’m not going to be gentle.” His fingers rip open his belt.

The metal jingles faintly under the tinny echo of voices over the speakers built around the field.

“You’re going to take it. You’re going to let me use you as my personal breeding hole. ”

I swallow audibly and watch, fascinated, as he drags his hands up my knees, over my thighs to frame my sex. My lips are spread. He studies my opening for a long moment before undoing his button. Then his zipper.

His cock springs free and I shift with anticipation.

Over my head, a male actor is yelling at someone. I can’t focus when Dante straddles the bike between my knees.

It doesn’t seem comfortable with his pants bunched up around his hips, but he doesn’t seem concerned about it when he lines his head with my opening.

“Last chance, baby. Fast or slow?”

It’s been a full day of edging between this morning in the living room, the kitchen, nearly in the staffroom .... I need to cum.

I need his cock.

Him.

I need him like I have never needed anything in my life .

“Fuck me, Dante,” I breathe, never taking my eyes off the place he has us nearly joined. “I want to feel you tomorrow.”

His low growl scorches the side of my face as he leans over me. One hand lifts to brace against the handlebars, over the links of my cuffs. The other slips under my hips.

“I love you,” he ghosts against my lips. “I need you to remember that because I’m going to fuck you like I fucking hate you.”

My heart claps in my chest at the raw intensity behind his eyes gleaming in the shadows. The sweet earnestness right before he kisses me.

It’s slow, loving. It’s the kind of kiss that melts through my entire soul and promises forever. It’s also the kind of kiss that distracts a woman right before she’s impaled on every inch of barbed cock.

The kiss hardens with my scream. It becomes as brutal and violent as the row upon row of metal ripping up inside me. Each bar, each ball stretches me, drags across my wall to slam my base.

I barely get a chance to catch my breath when he’s yanking out, only to thrust back in.

There is no gentleness. No mercy. He is fucking me like I murdered his entire family. He’s kissing me like I don’t deserve air. All the while, he growls he loves me, and all I can do is clutch the handlebars and take it .

Take every drive and whimper, “Harder.”

Despite the spiderwebs of pain splintering across my belly, the cramps in my thighs as I try to pull my legs around his hips, it feels so good. So right.

So familiar.

“Turn me over,” I pant.

He doesn’t question or argue when he yanks out, grabs my hips and repositions me. The turn has my arms crossing where the cuffs catch, but when he captures my hips, drags me closer to the edge and fucks me ... it’s perfect.

The depth, the cushion grinding into my mound, the hand he has on my waist, the other hand he twists up in my hair...

“Don’t stop. Don’t ... fucking...”

He slams harder. Harder. Our bodies slap loud enough that I’m sure everyone can hear it over the movie playing. But I don’t care. Let them watch. I am so close, nothing else matters.

“I’m cumming.” I push back, meeting every brutal thrust. “Cumming. Don’t stop.”

My head is dragged back so his mouth can reach my ear. “Milk me, little whore. Get my seed nice and deep.”

I cum with his promise to put a baby in me ringing in my head and hot jizz squirting up my channel. I’m too busy crumbling to feel the three hard thrusts getting him as close to my cervix as possible, except the pain adds to my spiral and I wiggle back for more.

He gives me everything and doesn’t pull out even when we’re both gasping and panting. I can barely feel my limbs as I lie boneless and sated across his seat, but I know he’s corking me. Keeping his cum locked up in my body to fulfill his wish for a baby.

I know I already told him I was on the pill but the fact that he keeps trying is amusing.

Maybe he thinks if he gets enough cum in me, it’ll override my birth control.

But that’s not how it works. Right? Maybe I should double check.

Although, a bratty little boy with dark, brown eyes doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Leila?”

“Hm?” I slur, face mashed into leather.

“You okay?”

My entire soul is humming. I never thought that could be possible, yet I’m floating in the most serene cloud.

“Sleep.”

I think I hear a faint chuckle, but it’s muffled by the clink of keys as my cuffs are unlatched.

The steel bracelets slip off my wrists, and I think it’s hilarious that he unshackled me before even taking his dick out.

But come out it does once I’m free. It slips out with a heavy amount of cum that dribbles down my lips to add to the mess already on his seat .

Gingerly, he lifts me up to stand before him on weak knees. All the while, he maintains a firm hold around my waist with one arm.

The open front of my dress flutters between us in the settling chill. I make to pull it closed, but Dante stops me.

“No.”

“I’m cold,” I protest.

His answer is to pull off his top, slide both hands around my waist and pull me flush into his body. His solid chest cushions my naked breasts as his hands wander down the curve of my back to fist my ass. I’m lifted to my toes where his wet cock smears release across my belly.

“I didn’t say I was done with you, little whore.” His face finds the side of my neck and sinks his teeth into my pulse. “You have eight years to make up for.”

He works his way down to my left nipple and it’s drawn into his mouth. His teeth drag over the peak while his free hand drifts up to my right breast. The nipple there is rolled beneath his thumb, sending a fresh flood of need through me.

“Double feature, huh?” I wheeze, battling back my chuckle.

I catch a flicker of his grin before his mouth descends on mine .

“Four hours of being completely at my mercy where I get to torture you and you can’t make a sound.”

My arms slide around his shoulders as I go up on my toes. My fingers slip through the soft strands at the back of his head, and I drag him closer.

“Challenge accepted.”