Page 12

Ronan

The bar’s empty now, the last of the drunks and degenerates shooed out by my bouncer, who’s locking up as I drag the silver-haired woman through the back hallway of Sinner’s Notch. Guiding her to my cramped little office at the back of the bar isn’t the best idea I’ve had in a while, but it’s the only place where I can give her my full, undivided attention. I don’t give a fuck about the mess of papers on the desk or the half-empty bottles lining the shelf; my attention’s locked on her, this wild thing with stormy gray eyes and a fire in her expression that could burn Ashthorne to ash.

I don’t mix with patrons, not like this. I stay behind the bar, eavesdropping on deals and betrayals, passing the juicy bits to Malik so he can wade into the chaos with his knives and madness. Bounty hunting’s my outlet, not my life. Chasing low lives keeps the blood pumping; but the thrill’s faded over the years, the jobs blending into a gray haze.

I’m always searching, though, for someone exciting—someone who can match the darkness I keep leashed. And this woman… fuck, she’s it. The way she pinned that bastard to the floor, knife to his throat, her eyes blazing with murder, sent a jolt through me that I haven’t felt in ages. Now, with her in my office, making those pretty, desperate sounds, I’m more than happy to stay in this game. I can’t wait to rub this in Dante’s face. A woman this wild, this vicious, this fucking needy, and all mine for the night.

She smells like floral and ginger as I push her against the small desk, the wood creaking beneath our movements. My hands slide down her dress before rucking it up around her waist, her bare ass staring at me as she bends over my desk. God, it’s been too fucking long since I gave into a bad decision. My cock thickens in my pants as I run my palms over her bared flesh and then pull her thong to the side, my fingers brushing her core. She’s already wet and I’m not sure what makes me harder—the fact that she’s dripping from nearly gutting that guy or the anticipation of the hard fuck she’s begging for. Maybe both. She twists around, her gray eyes meeting mine, impatience lurking in her expression. “Pretty boy, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I’ll go find that bastard whose throat I nearly slit and sit on his cock.”

I frown, my hands stilling on her hips. “Seriously?” I ask, my voice rough with a mixture of amusement and irritation.

“I don’t care how I get my fuck, just that I get it,” she snaps, her eyes flashing. “Stop worshipping my ass and show me what you got.”

A wide smile splits across my face as I undo my pants, not needing to be told twice. I pump my cock a few times, already rock-hard, and flatten her chest against the desk, her hands splaying across the surface for balance. I line up, the head of my cock brushing her entrance, and surge inside, no warning, no gentleness. This is what she wanted, right?

She’s so fucking tight, clenching around me, but I freeze when she lets out a little howl of pain, her body tensing beneath me. My hands grip her hips softly, ready to pull back. “Too much?” This is always an issue when it comes to fucking the random women in my bar. They say they want it rough and then I overestimate what that means.

She pushes back against me, hard, her ass grinding into my pelvis, her pussy trying to strangle my cock. I swear she’s doing that on purpose. “Most of your one-night stands might be soft and pliant,” she growls back at me, “but don’t go easy on me.”

That’s all I need to hear. Well, there’s one more thing. “Safe word?” I ask, because I’m not in the business of pain, not without boundaries, no matter how much I want to wreck her.

An unhinged laugh falls from her lips that makes my cock twitch inside her. “My safe word is ‘don’t fucking stop,’” she says, her hands bracing harder on the desk, her body arching to take me deeper.

And that’s all I need. I pull back and thrust deep inside of her again, setting a brutal pace, each snap of my hips driving her into the desk. The wood groans, papers sliding to the floor, her moans echoing through the small office as her fingers claw at the surface. Most women I fuck want the softer side of me, the charming bartender who listens and pours. They don’t want the part that hunts, that breaks, that craves the edge of violence. But her? She’s begging for it, pushing back to meet every thrust, her body a perfect mix of resistance and surrender. I lean over, my chest pressing against her back, and bite her shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but enough to make her gasp, her walls tightening around me.

“Fuck, you’re something else,” I growl, my hands sliding up to grip her wrists, pinning them to the desk. I fuck her harder, the room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, her moans, my grunts. However, I need more. I need to hear her scream, to break her open until she’s nothing but pleasure and surrender. I pull out, ignoring her sharp gasp, and flip her around before setting her on the edge of the desk. Then I push against her chest, laying her back down on my desk, her wide stormy eyes watching as I lift her leg until her foot is dangling over my shoulder.

Watching her lips part as I fuck back into her wet heat is everything. She lets out a feral moan, my teeth grazing her calf as I thrust, my free hand finding her clit. I rub it furiously, rough circles that make her buck, her moans turning to cries. Splayed out for me like this, she’s absolutely gorgeous, my hunger for those delicious sounds growing as I drop her leg a little to lean down, teething over her tits through her dress, nipping hard enough to make her gasp, my body contorting to get closer, to drive deeper inside of her.

“Mark me, sweetheart. Show me how much you like this.”

My gaze drops to one of her hands, fingers extending and curling up as if she’s unsure of whether or not to touch me. For a moment, I don’t think she’ll listen. Then her hands fly to my shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to break skin, sting the perfect bite of pain I need. She comes hard and fast, shuddering beneath me, her body convulsing as she rides the wave.

“That’s one,” I murmur, a smirk curling my lips. “I’m gonna drag another two out of you before I let you go home.”

I drop her leg completely, letting it fall to the desk and hover over her, my mouth hovering over hers. She’s flushed, sweat glistening on her skin, her eyes half-lidded but defiant. I go for a kiss, needing to taste her, but she turns her head at the last moment. “No kissing.”

“And I kiss when I fuck hard,” I say, my lips brushing her jaw, teasing the sensitive skin there. “Take it or leave it.” She’ll either fix her dress and leave or tell me to go fuck myself. I’ll give her another orgasm regardless but watching her expressive face is giving me ideas. Terrible ideas.

She glares up at me, this woman I still don’t even have a name for, before tilting her chin up, offering herself to me. I instantly claim her mouth, the woman tasting like tequila, ginger, and darkness itself. Her lips move against mine as I kiss her harder, my teeth nipping her bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from her.

Restarting my pace, I build her back up to a second orgasm, one of my hands roaming to find her throat, not squeezing, just resting, her pulse racing beneath my fingers.

I feel her tightening again, her breaths coming faster, her hips rocking to meet my thrusts. I angle deeper, hitting that spot that makes her gasp, and rub her clit again, softer this time, teasing until she’s trembling. “Come on, sweetheart,” I murmur against her mouth. “Give me another.” She’s close, her moans turning to whimpers, her nails digging into my arms, leaving fresh marks. I thrust harder, faster, my own release building, the heat pooling in my gut. She comes again, her cry muffled against my lips, her body arching off the desk, and I’m right there with her, spilling into her with a groan that feels like it’s torn from my soul. “Holy shit, you’re perfect.”

I’m still out of breath as I pull back, watching my cum dribble out of her pretty cunt, but I meant what I said. Three times , no less. She’s still trembling, her eyes glassy, but there’s a spark in them, a challenge that makes my cock twitch, already stirring again but she’s not ready for the night I could give her.