Page 19 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

Marcus

Ari was staying with her friend, it seemed, in a tightly packed residential area. Her friend took her into a townhouse and shut the door, and I abandoned my motorcycle a block away and followed on foot.

I waited in the shadows. The lights around the house went off, one by one.

Probably Ari’s responsible friend tucking her in and closing up the place.

It didn’t matter if she locked all the doors.

I’d bet she’d forgotten something. Normal people in towns like Hade Harbor were often sloppy with their security.

Lulled into a false sense of security by how quiet and seemingly safe it was.

It made the people who thrived in the darkness even stronger. It made us unbeatable.

Half an hour after the last light went out, I headed for the back. It had a long narrow yard and screen doors. I checked for any kind of camera doorbell or motion-sensor light and spied the blinking red dot just in time. There was a camera poised right toward the back porch. So, that way was out.

I circled around the side. Most people didn’t want to spend a fortune on security measures for their properties, so front and back door cams were the only things installed.

There was a window fairly high up the wall on the side. A quick inspection told me it was camera-free, probably because it was too far to reach from the ground. A flawed way of thinking, clearly, as there was a tree with branches right beside it.

Seconds later, I was climbing the tree. It would be a piece of cake, if not for the damn bag I was carrying. Still, it was easy enough to get to the window. It was already open a crack. It was the sash kind that pushed up, and an older model at that, before people worried about safety as much.

Then I was dropping into the dark hallway, listening intently for anyone still awake.

Silence filled the air. No pets. Nobody awake. Perfect.

I moved along the hallway. The master bedroom had the door cracked. Ari’s friend was asleep in bed. I passed by her room and followed the hallway around a bend. There was a bathroom and then another room right at the end of the hall.

I turned the knob soundlessly and peeped in.

Ari was lying on her front, her hair rumpled across her shoulders and the pillow, like fucking satin in the moonlight. I eased inside and shut and locked the door behind me.

Her clothes were folded on the chair beside the door. Had her fucking friend undressed her? Female or not, I didn’t like that one bit. Maybe I’d break some shit on the way out. I didn’t share my things with anyone.

There was also a big canvas bag, just like mine, and her purse on the floor by the chair.

I dropped my own bag, adding to the pile, and then picked up Ari’s purse.

It was old and worn, but she carried it everywhere.

I fished around in my pocket for the little something I’d picked up this morning from my brother’s place.

The tracker was tiny. Once put in place on material, it clung on like a limpet, and at only a fingernail across, the chances of it being found were unlikely.

It was a chance I was more than willing to take.

I attached the tracker to the inner lining of Ari’s purse and made sure it was paired with my phone.

Something inside me relaxed as the green dot lit up reassuringly.

It was only accurate within ten foot radius, but that was close enough.

I moved to the bed and drew the heavy comforter down a bit.

Ari still had her bra and panties on, but that was all. Again, the thought of her friend helping her out of her clothes pinched at me. The idea wasn’t hot. It was fucking annoying.

I raised my phone, making sure the flash was on, and snapped a photo of her bare back and the swell of her ass.

Next, I unclipped her bra at the back and pulled it open. She didn’t stir. My birthday girl was a heavy sleeper. I hooked a finger in her panties and tugged them down and off, exposing more of her gorgeous, full, rounded cheeks, and took some more photos.

Next, I moved to her face, pushing her hair back and smoothing a finger over her cheek. That made her stir. I slid my thumb inside her mouth, cupping her jaw, and took one last photo. Leverage secured, I shoved my phone in my pocket and started to strip.

I was so hard it hurt, and when I freed myself from my jeans, blood rushed to my cock, only making me harder. My balls ached to be emptied, and tonight, I’d oblige them.

Naked, I got into bed next to Ari, running a hand down her back. She sighed in her sleep and arched into my touch.

“Rise and shine. I’m here to collect.”

I ran a hand over her ass and dipped my fingers inside her cleft.

She shifted, bending a knee and giving me all the access I wanted.

I traced the line of her slit. She was wet there, and my mouth watered at the memory of her sweet taste.

I put my finger just inside her, and she moaned, shifting herself against me and sending my finger deeper.

But it wasn’t any fun without her awake to sigh and blush and fight with me.

“Wake up, Ari, or I’ll fuck you and leave your face covered in cum for you to find in the morning.” I took my fingers from her cunt and pinched her ass, hard.

Her eyes snapped open, and her head tried to rise, her mouth opening to shout out, but my hand was there, faster than her reflexes. I slammed my wet hand over her mouth, sealing her scream inside.

Her huge eyes stared at me; she was startled and sober now. I could see her thinking through where she was and how she’d come to be here. Slowly, I eased my fingers from her mouth and pressed the one that had been inside her to her lips.

“Taste yourself and pretend you didn’t want me to climb into your bed, just like this. I dare you,” I said lowly.

Her tongue swirled around my finger, and her teeth teased me; she considered biting down but thought better of it. She’d already slapped me today, so maybe there was a line she drew somewhere.

Unluckily for her, I had no such lines.

She was still lying on her front, her head turned my way. I sat up and straddled her thighs, and she protested around my finger.

From this position, her juicy ass was right in front of me, and her creamy back was a long, uninterrupted line, except for…

I leaned down, my finger still sunk in her mouth, silencing her, to inspect a long scar across one shoulder. I explored it with my other hand. It was ridged, like poorly done stitches. Maybe a home-stitch job. I was well acquainted with those. How had I not noticed this before?

“What’s this, Professor?” I leaned down to rub my nose along the line, curiosity pricking at me.

I’d always been fucking curious. Curious about other families, with their happy lives and warm homes.

I’d been curious about people’s relationships and how it was that someone could trust another person so implicitly.

I’d always wanted to know people’s stories, and something in my gut told me that finding out Arianna Moore’s wouldn’t be easy. She wouldn’t be easy.

But that was okay. I liked difficult things.

“It’s—nothing, don’t look at it. It’s ugly,” she said softly.

I tutted at her. “You want to be like everyone else?”

She was quiet, and I had the feeling she was holding her breath.

“Scars are beautiful. They tell a story. Your story… and it’s fucking fascinating, birthday girl, just like you.”

I licked the scar, dragging my tongue up and along the ridged flesh. Someone or something had hurt this woman and then done a piss-poor job of fixing it. Just like the thought of her well-meaning friend undressing her, imagining someone hurting Ari bothered me.

She stilled. I licked at her scar and then moved downward. I slid my hands from her mouth, nestled myself between her legs, and pushed them wide.

“Marcus! We can’t,” she whispered.

I took my first hit of the scent of her cunt in front of me.

“We are,” I told her instead and leaned in and pressed my face against her, licking her from clit to ass.

She jerked, her whole body jumping in shock, and I clamped my hands around the backs of her thighs.

“Oh my God,” she moaned.

I focused my tongue on her puckered asshole for a beat.

“You can’t do that, I mean—you shouldn’t…”

I poked my tongue inside her hole.

After I’d thoroughly explored her ass, I moved down and found her cunt.

“Fuck, you’re wet. You like being tongue-fucked in the ass, Professor? What would Dean Eastwood say about that? Hmm?” I hummed against her skin.

“Fuck you,” Ari managed.

“I’d much rather fuck you.” I grunted and sat up, shifting so I straddled her thighs again. “And I’m going to, wherever and whenever I want.”

My cock was leaking precum like a fucking faucet. It was her taste and smell. It seemed to have some kind of direct connection to my balls. I couldn’t stop wanting to come on, around, or preferably inside this woman. A biological driving force. A chemical reaction.

I rubbed the tip of my cock up and down her slit, and she arched her back even more, pressing her cunt onto me.

I chuckled and pulled away.

“You want to tell me to leave you alone again, Professor Moore? Shall I apologize and leave?”

She turned to look at me, her face twisted with desire, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright, even in the light of the moon falling through the blinds.

“Very funny, like you would,” she muttered.

I shrugged. “I would… just to hear you beg for me to come back.”

She glared at me for a second. “What do you want from me?” she demanded in a harsh whisper.

I leaned down and sank a finger inside her as deep as I could. Her cunt gripped me tightly. Perfection.

“Your confession, Ari. You want me just as much as I want you. Stop being a goddamn liar.”

I fucked her with that finger, slowly pumping it in and out, enough to keep her on the edge. I could feel her battling with herself. Her upright morals warring with her desire.

“You want me to stop?” I ground out, knowing that while it would hurt like hell to stop, I’d do it to punish her for lying to me, and herself.

I paused my finger-fucking and waited.

“No.” Her quiet whisper was like saving that last goal before the final buzzer.

I grinned, victory and possessiveness burning through me like wildfire.

“What was that? I didn’t catch it.”

“Don’t fucking stop,” she gritted out. The sound of her melodic sweet voice around the swear word was perfection.

“You sure?” I checked.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. I want you to fuck me,” she whispered.

“What? I didn’t hear you, beautiful,” I said by her ear.

She twisted to send me a dark, desperate look.

“I want you to fuck me—fuck me!”

I tutted and smoothed her hair back.

“Okay, Professor, I’ve got it… no need to beg,” I teased her, and when she opened her mouth to sass back, I surged inside.

“Protection?” she gasped out.

I shallowly thrust into her, going deeper and deeper each time.

“Fuck protection.” I rode in. “Nothing comes between us. You said you were covered.”

“Yeah, for pregnancy, not for anything else?—”

She gasped as I fucked her in a long, fluid motion, shunting in until my hips met her ass.

I was big. It wasn’t an ego thing, just a fact, but Ari could take it.

She didn’t complain that I was spearing her guts, or shift around to prevent me from getting deeper.

In fact, she only widened her legs more, letting me sink in so far, I forgot where she ended and I began.

“Your cunt was made to take me, Ari, you know that, right? I’m going to fuck you so hard and long, I’ll mold it to my cock… so it doesn’t fit anyone else… so it’s mine and mine alone.”

She let out a breathy groan. I fucked her steadily. I pinched her ass, needing more from her, wanting her voice, her disagreement, her fucking surrender—just something.

“Big talk, Mr. Bailey,” she finally murmured over her shoulder and flexed her ass back against me. It sent me deeper still. “Let’s see if you have the goods to back it up.”

A laugh ripped from me. I held her ass cheeks in both hands, fucking her harder, shaking the bed.

“Yes, let’s.”