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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

VALE

This hot bastard is mad … and fast.

Leave it to him to ruin my dramatic exit by chasing me after we had another fight in the parlor at the end of the day.

Because I sure as hell will know what is in their “meeting” room on the third floor of the business I manage, and hell will freeze over before Nash tells me.

I firmly asked, and he flatly refused.

“You pick your men,” I pointed at Jace, “over me?”

“There is no choice,” Nash answered.

So, I threw my Long Logan ten-inch dildo at him. Side note: it gets my screaming endorsement. Then I stormed out the back door of Delta’s.

But now he’s following on my heels, twisting through the back, cobblestone alleys to my place, with palms and flowers blooming through iron gates.

Usually, I love our walks. They’re kind of romantic.

But not today, Satan.

How dare he? Why won’t he tell me? How dare Nash prioritize his “brothers” over me?

Would I do the same if Blair were involved? Well, that’s not pertinent to this conversation.

Next question.

“Vale,” he growls, taking two stairs at a time as I race up the ones outside my apartment. “Don’t you dare enter without me clearing.”

“Clear this.” I’ve been using my middle finger a lot today.

But when I reach my apartment’s white wooden door, it doesn’t feel right. I’ve gotten so used to holding onto Nash’s shoulder while he clears my place. I love feeling his tense muscles, his raised temperature, the wall of his hard body, and his dark gun protecting me.

It’s instinct; I need him.

Besides, as I let him proceed and hold his right shoulder, it’s the only thing keeping my fingers from gouging his eyeballs out.

“Clear,” he says before he turns on my lamp. “And we need to talk.”

“I’m sorry.” I march toward my bathroom. “There must be a mouse in your pocket because there is no we . There’s me, and then there’s you and your Bratva brothers. Or wait, no, you’re right, you are Bratva beasts .”

“Listen to me!” he shouts, so I whip around in the doorway, angrily grabbing the door. “Do not provoke us. Don’t ever go in that room.”

“You know,” I tilt my head, “they need to make doors so you only have to talk to the people you like. Oh, hang on. They do.” I slam it in his face.

Dickhead.

Really beautiful, thick dickhead.

God, why does he have to be hung like a stallion? And even if he weren’t, his fingers and tongue and that dirty, erotic mouth of his make my pussy want to call a cease-fire.

Just long enough for her to get a fix.

Then it’s back to war.

Instead, I take a nice long shower. No, I don’t get myself off because I’m too mad. But yes, I use all the hot water.

Wrapped in a white robe and turban, I leave the bathroom in a cloud of steam.

Nash is propped up on my bed, reading my annotated copy of How To Piss Off Men. When he sees me clock it, he asks, “Where’d you buy this? The Banshees R’ Us Bookstore? I bet you’re their best customer.”

“I can’t hear you.” I storm across the room. “I stopped talking to you an hour ago.”

“Send the memo to your moving lips.”

“Okay, Boomer. No one writes memos anymore.”

“No one, aka especially you, will enter that room on the third floor of Delta’s, either.”

“Uh-huh. I’m really known for doing what men say. Super reliable. Iron-clad guarantee. Don’t you worry. I’ll be a good little girl.”

“I’ll fucking make sure of it,” he threatens before slowly rising and stripping naked, taunting me to watch, and I do. With a yawn.

So he smirks and disappears into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I’m laughing my ass off because all I hear is, “God. Fucking. Dammit, Vale! This is cold!”

“Don’t let it shrivel up and fall off,” I shout back.

While he’s in there, I grab my pillow and the blanket off the foot of my bed.

Still in my robe, I remove my towel turban and quickly comb the snarls out. Then I lie down and snuggle in for a good night’s sleep on my loveseat.

Swinging the bathroom door open so hard that it slams against the wall, Nash emerges dripping with rage. So, why bother using a bath towel, either, when apparently, his dick is so raging hard it would only rip right through it?

You know that warning about poking a bear? Well, I provoked a beast.

Life goals.

“What are you doing?” he growls.

“Sleeping on my loveseat, Captain Obvious.”

“The fuck you are.”

He charges toward me, butterflies, fear, and lust soaring in my body. It’s an intoxicating mix as he grabs me, lifting me. “We sleep together,” he demands. “I don’t care how bratty you are.”

I punch his chest. I can’t hurt him. But I need to make my pride proud, so I put up a decent fight. “I don’t sleep with dicks!”

“Watch this.” He tosses me on my bed. “Now, you’re sleeping with a hard, angry one.”

I bounce, landing on my back as he crawls over me, quickly grabbing my wrists to pin them over my head. “Get off me!” I scream.

“You either get a spanking, or you listen to me.”

“Break out the paddle, big boy, because I never listen.”

He smirks. “You just did.”

“I’m not listening to you. You’re too angry and hard. You can’t be reasonable.”

“Exactly,” he growls, his brown eyes brimming with ire and heat. “I’m angry because I keep telling you I’ll never hurt you, and I’ll kill anyone who does, so don’t make me do it. Don’t make me hurt one of my brothers over you because I will. You ask me who I choose, but there is no choice. I pick you, Vale, every time, all the time.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” I snap. “Why won’t you tell me what’s in that room? Why is it such a big secret?”

“Because I’m protecting you.”

“From what?”

“From what we do in that room sometimes…” He licks his lips, his knees wedging my thighs open. “Because it makes me hard. It makes us hard. We’re like animals, and I don’t want you around it.”

“W-what?” I’m shocked, but my clit ignites, don’t ask me why. She’s such a slut. “What do you do in the room?”

“Something I’ll never allow to be done to you.”

“Do you hurt people? Do you hurt women?”

“Never. It’s the opposite.”

“What’s the opposite? What do you do? Do you fu?—”

“You’re asking questions I’ll never answer.”

He glances down at his body planked over mine, at his hard cock aimed for my entrance, at my robe and thighs, falling open. Then he sees my nipples. They’ve tightened at the taboo he’s hinting at. My ribs are heaving, wondering, wanting to know. I’m flushed and curious.

If it’s with Nash, I want it. I want everything.

“You’re getting aroused by it, too,” he rasps, deeply surprised. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I confess. “I’m not afraid if I’m with you. If I go in that room, what would you do to me?”

“Stop, Vale. It’s not happening.”

“But I?—”

“But you won’t keep your mouth shut, will you?”

“Never.” I narrow my eyes, grinning, knowing how to wear him down and get what I want. “So why don’t you put something big in it to make me shut up?”

I arch my back, rubbing my body against his. Lust drops his eyelids so fast because he’s torn, so I rip him open.

“Please, Mr. Allen. Please let me suck your hard cock. I’ve fantasized about it for so long. I’ve been a bad girl so many times, touching myself while sucking on a dildo, imagining it’s you fucking my throat. It makes me come, moaning your name.”

“ Fuuucckkk , poison,” he growls. “Fuck, you kill me with that mouth.”

“For once, you’re right,” I tease. “I’ll take you to heaven with it.”

He hesitates, so I reveal, “I had the remote, Nash. I played with the plug by myself and came alone that night, thinking of you. I always think of you so I can come.”

I tug at him, guiding him to kneel, to straddle my face. By the heated look in his eyes, he can’t resist. He’s wanted this, too.

His length curves, heavy and long, his tip hanging over my lips. He stares down at me, watching as I gently kiss it.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Shit, poison, this is going to kill me.”

“Have you fantasized, too, Mr. Allen?” I ask between kisses that go from soft to firm, sliding my slick, puckered lips over his glistening tip. “Have you imagined fucking my dirty mouth with your thick cock?”

“Yes,” he confesses as I lick his frenulum, the sensitive spot where his head connects to his shaft. “All the goddamn time.”

I grin, knowing every technique to blow his mind, cock, and world, and I want to. I want to give Nash the pleasure he’s given me. I want him to surrender to me as much as I have to him.

So, I lick him, flattening my tongue and teasing him while he stares down at me, anticipating, needing me to take him into my mouth. His eyes narrow. His lips part. I could tease and torture him all night, but he wants this too much.

He laces his hand through my hair while I lick his tip. “That’s enough teasing, Vale.” Tugging hard at my strands, he demands, “Now be a good girl and suck my cock while I fuck all the bratty little words out of your mouth.”

God, I want to say it. My kink is on the tip of my tongue, but what if it’s not his? What if I freak him out?

Then again, his eyes look lost in lust. His cock is rock hard, his breath heavy, his grip on my hair so controlling, so hungry for me.

He’s wanted me as much as I’ve wanted him. Maybe just like this…

“Yes, Daddy,” I sigh, taking the risk before slowly sliding my lips over his swollen tip and locking my eyes on his, watching his reaction to my kink as I plunge my mouth down his thick shaft.

“ Fuucckkk yes , Vale!” He almost roars, the veins in his neck straining while he cups my head on the pillow. “Yes, be such a dirty girl for your daddy now. Yes, suck me. Suck me, baby.”

It’s our kink unleashed. It makes moans crawl up my throat as he starts fucking it, but he’s not forcing me. No, every muscle on his body, straddling mine, is tense with restraint.

This is so powerful between us. It could overwhelm us if we let it, and I love it. I wrap my hand around his swollen base, and we find a maddening tempo. Me, bobbing my head, moaning and teasing him with tongue techniques while my hands pump, and him, gently thrusting his cock into my mouth.

“Goddamn,” he mutters. “Goddamn, Vale, you’re good at this.” He shudders when I lick his slit. “So fucking good.”

I want more. I want it all. I want all of Nash’s secrets, all of his life, all of his heart, so I take as much of him as I can until my throat gently gags on his mass. I grab his thighs, my fingernails digging into his firm ass cheeks, so he can’t move. He has to let me do this, choking on him while I stare up at him, my tearing eyes swearing how much I love his cock in my mouth.

“Fuck, Vale.” He marvels, “Fuck, how can you take so much of me?”

I pull off; my spit webbed from my lips to his tip. “Because you belong to me, don’t you? Just as much as I belong to you.”

“Yes, yes,” he pants as I go back to sucking him. He keeps saying it, over and over, and with my name, his praise driving me harder.

Giving Nash pleasure is making me wet. I ache for him, but I want to share more, so I carefully cup his balls. He moans like he likes it, but I’m brave. I want this for us, so I move my fingertip, massaging his perineum, and his moans drop deeper. I indulge him for minutes, lavishing him before I slowly move my fingertip to tease his ass.

“Fuck.” He stops thrusting into my mouth.

I circle his ass. “Do you like this?”

“I’ve never let anyone do it,” he confesses.

“Will you let me?” I keep circling and teasing, but my heart is sincere; I want to give this to him. “Will you share a first with me like I shared with you?”

He’s so powerful and vulnerable at the same time, gazing down at me, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Yes,” he mutters, “yes, you can have me, Vale.”

I put my fingers in my mouth until they’re dripping before I return, circling and teasing his ass while I suck his tip, my other hand fisting his shaft.

My pussy clenches, hearing his deep gasps and grunts; he’s loving it. So slowly, I enter him, watching his mouth gape, watching him give me something no one else has had. His surrender. His pleasure. His trust.

When I curl my middle finger inside him, rubbing his soft fleshy spot, his corded thighs, straining over me, start to shake. “Vale,” is all he can grunt as I take him; I claim him; I give him pleasure like he’s never felt, and his eyes roll back.

Fisting my hair, his hand shakes, too. “Fuck.” He grunts, “Fuck, Vale, you’re making me come so hard,” and I moan for it, my mouth full of him, wanting every drop he gives me.

I’ve never seen Nash’s face while he comes, and it’s beautiful, primal, and raw how his veins pop, his sinews strain, his muscles twitch. He groans, thrusting and watching me, his body clenching around my finger curling inside him while I don’t stop giving him this pleasure until his cum spills over my lips.

Gently, I pull out, licking my lips clean as I gaze up at him, and he gazes back. His chest heaves, finding his breath as he lowers his mouth so close to mine like he wants to kiss me, like he wants to taste what we just shared.

But kissing on the lips? I don’t know if I can ever get that intimacy, that trust and tenderness back.

“Poison.” His kiss skims my cheek instead. “Goddamn, I’ve never come so hard like that. Promise me, that’s another secret we’ll share.”

“Can we do it again?”

He lifts, searching my eyes. “Does sucking me off really turn you on, too? Because going down on you is my new fetish.”

I bite my lip. “Lick my pussy, Daddy, and taste how much I love choking on your cock.”

“Fuck, yes,” he huffs, aroused and returning the pleasure. It makes him hard again; I can tell by his deep moans into my cunt. They only make my lust more maddening.

I turn our bodies to lavish him with my mouth as well, but I’m too petite, straddling his face. So, I reach, stroking his screaming erection. It drips with my pussy on his face, his tongue worshipping my clit, his fingers taking me until I come. My orgasm makes his cock swell, and I move down his hard, inked abs to worship him, too. To take him in my mouth, his hand cupping my head.

“Fuck yes, poison,” he groans. “The taste of your cum on my tongue makes me come so fucking hard.” And I make him do it, hollowing my cheeks to suck every drop of him; his grunts are erotic music to my soul.

“God…” I finish him, rolling off and falling on the pillow, his taste tingling on my tongue as I flop my arm over my head, and he flips his body, returning to his place, lying beside me. “Too bad you really suck at cunnilingus.”

He chuckles, still catching his breath. “Like you fail at fellatio.”

I laugh, wrapping around him. “You know what they say; learning is fun.”

“Is that what all your books taught you?” he asks. “How to piss off men, then rock their world?”

“Something like that.”

He’s quiet, playing with my hair before he asks, “When will you be Doctor Vale Monroe?”

“At this rate?” I sigh, “Never.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m ABD eternally.”

He lifts my chin. “What does that mean? I don’t speak PhD.”

“It means I’m ‘All But Dissertation.’ I’ve passed all my classes, done all my research, and started and stopped writing my final dissertation about five times.”

“Why?”

I rest my chin on my hand over his chest. With Nash, I feel like I can confess anything. Like he’d never judge.

“Because for so many years, I felt like a fraud. At Delta’s, I teach everyone about sex and sexuality, but my sex life has sucked. I guess deep down, I doubted myself. I didn’t feel qualified to have a PhD in something I actually failed at.”

He brushes the hair from my face. “You’re speaking in past tense.”

“Yeah, because suddenly, I’m having orgasmic sex with you, and we haven’t even fucked, so I’m feeling like an erotic goddess, but…” He raises a brow, waiting. “But I don’t want to finish now. I don’t want to be a professor. I don’t want to do research and write about sexuality; I want to help people with it. I think I want to be a sex therapist instead.”

Jealousy flashes across his eyes. “You’ll have sex with patients?”

“No, never! Get your mind out of the porno gutter. As an accountant, do you fuck numbers to fix them?”

“No. I figure them out until they work, until they balance.”

“That’s what a sex therapist does. I’d help clients figure out their emotional and mental blocks regarding sex and intimacy. You have no idea how many people suffer with it.” I pause. “But I do. I have. It feels like you’re trapped in a cage with no key.”

His gaze, usually so cold and stoic, fills with warmth. He cups my cheek, his thumb gently brushing over it. “Do you want to tell me about it?” Softly, he grins, making me feel so safe. “ You might not listen, but I always will.”

Even his cute joke fills me with warmth.

If there were a man I trusted to tell this to, it would be Nash. But trusting men after one hurt me and another abandoned me is not a place I’m in. Not yet.

I shake my head. “Not really. Not now. I’ve done a lot of work to heal. And yes, all my pussy power books have helped. But let’s just say,” my throat suddenly strangles, “it’s why I don’t kiss on the lips.”

It makes me pause as I chew them, fighting back the tears and the memory, too. “My kiss was taken from me,” I share, “and I’m still trying to get it back.”

But I give Nash this; I let him see my tears about it.

He clenches his teeth, his nostrils flaring as the hinge of his jaw flexes. He swallows slowly like rocks fill his throat, but he won’t look away from me.

Nash holds my truth with me, and I know how protective he is, so that was hard for him to hear. His eyes look full of love, yet like he wants to murder, too, but he’s helpless to do anything about it now.

He cups my cheeks, his voice stirring with deep rage and care. “Will you let me help you get it back?”

“You already have,” I answer, kissing the inked flesh above his pounding heart. My pain beats through his veins, too; I can feel it. Then I kiss his neck, my lips sensing the thunder of his furious, protective pulse; it matches mine. Gently, I kiss his scruffy, granite jaw before I find his ear and tenderly confess, “You’re the beast who set me free.”