Something Fierce [The Underground 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (15 page)

“Yes.” The lone word came out in a rush and she let her head fall back as he nibbled at her throat. She didn’t want these offending clothes in the way. Rising up on her knees, she started working her sweats down. A few unorganized motions and she had the material tossed to the ground. Her shirt and bra followed suit. She didn’t care that she was only in her panties in front of him while he was still fully dressed. It actually turned her on to know she was vulnerable in this sense.

His eyes, almost black in the darkened room, skimmed over her naked flesh. She swore her nipples got harder just by the way he looked at her. When he lifted his hands and pressed her breasts together she couldn’t stop a whimper from leaving her mouth. He leaned forward, his eyes locked with hers as he brought his mouth to her puckered nipples. He sucked one bud, licking, teasing, and nipping the tender flesh, and then moved on to the next. Over and over, he tortured her until she found herself rubbing her pussy along his fabric-clad erection. Her panties were saturated from her arousal, but she didn’t give a damn. She was so fucking hot for him. He sucked on her until blood rushed to the surface and the peaks looked obscenely long in the dim light.

“God, you make me so fucking crazy, woman.” His hands went to his belt and fly of his jeans and he tore them open, pushing the material out of the way just enough to get his cock out. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop her eyes from widening or her mouth from growing slack at the sight of his shaft. It still had her entire body tightening.

“Don’t look at me like that, Tristan. I’m likely to throw you on the floor and fuck you like an animal.”

A soft cry left her and she snapped her eyes up to meet his heavy-lidded ones. He wanted her. That much was clear from his expression. His hand slid over her mound and rubbed slow circles over her already-engorged clit. He didn’t order her to take her panties off. No, he just pulled the material to the side and ran his finger over her slick flesh. A groan left him and he let his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“Fuck, baby.” One of his thick fingers pressed against her opening and she bit her lip. “Rise up on your knees.” Deep, gruff words lanced through her like an arrow.

On her knees, she pressed down until she felt the tip of his cock poised at her entrance. Every inch of her was alive with the need to feel him buried inside of her, but he didn’t lift his hips up and impale her, ending her suffering. As she looked down at him she knew he was handing the ball over to her, giving her the reins to bring them both to pleasure tonight. Bracing her legs as wide as she could, she gripped the base of his cock and slowly slid down. When a good inch of thick, hard male flesh was inside of her she placed both arms on his shoulders. Their breath mingled as their faces stayed preciously close. Without breaking eye contact, Tristan continued to lower herself onto his erection. A groan left her and she closed her eyes as pleasure engulfed her.

“Look at me.” The words weren’t an order, but almost a plea.

Tristan opened her eyes and Kash leaned forward, sealing their mouths together. His hand cupped her ass and he squeezed the globes. When he was deep inside of her she didn’t move for fear of coming just from the friction. This one moment needed to last. As their lips moved together as one and their tongues pressed and slid against one another, Tristan lifted her hips. The fabric of her panties seemed to heighten the act. The rough scrape from the edge of her panties added a bit of pain to the act. A ripple of pleasure shot through her at the feel of her bare flesh moving along his. She could feel him trembling beneath her, but she couldn’t find the words to ask him if everything was okay. Up and down she moved, almost letting him fall completely from her body before she pushed back down.

“Oh, Tristan.” Her name was a satisfied groan against her mouth and she did it again and again. His hands tightened on her ass and he lifted his hips in time to meet her movements. With each passing second they moved faster and faster, harder and harder until she found her head thrown back, her hair swaying against her naked back, and her nails digging into his shoulders.

“Yes,” she whimpered. “Please, Kash, harder, faster.”

“Fuck.” His curse might have made her think he wouldn’t give her what she needed, but he tightened his hold on her and flipped her onto her back. Looking up at him, Tristan knew he was about to give her exactly what she wanted.

Fingers curving around the side of her underwear, he shoved them roughly to the side and plunged back inside of her. The force of his thrusting hips had her breasts swaying madly. There was nothing for her to hold on to as Kash pounded into her body ruthlessly, giving her exactly what she craved.

“Yes.” Head tilted back and mouth going slack, Tristan felt the first tremors of her orgasm start to claim her.

“Damn, your fucking pussy is tight and hot.” Harsh breathing followed his crude description of her body, but she loved it, every minute of it, and that was what sent her into oblivion.

As her body sucked at his cock, trying desperately to bring him to the same mind-blowing climax as hers, she was vaguely aware of his grunt of completion. He pumped into her once more and then she felt him leave her body. Her eyes snapped open and she watched him work his fist over his shaft in fast, long strokes. His cum shot out of him in great, white arcs and splattered along her upper chest and neck. It was warm and wet and as she watched the last drops leave the tip of him, she found herself pushing up on her elbows until his still-hard penis hovered by her mouth. Flicking her gaze to his, she leaned the rest of the way forward, brought her tongue out, and licked him clean. The surprise that briefly flickered across his face thrilled her. She sucked the head in and ran her tongue along the bulbous, ridged end. A moan left her at his taste.

“Fucking hell, Tristan.” He cupped her cheek and she let go of his softening shaft.

They stared at each other for several long minutes. There was so much she wanted to tell him. The expression he held spoke of his own emotions, ones that she hoped he would share, but all too quickly he put a wall around himself, leaving her feeling alone. He took a step back and zipped up his jeans. As she watched him leave her sitting on the couch anger flared inside of her. Grabbing her clothes, she angrily dressed and turned to follow him.

She watched his retreating back disappear into the kitchen. For a second all she could do was stand there, wondering what the hell had happened. When she entered the kitchen, Kash had his hands braced on the counter and his head down low.

“I’m not okay with this.” Even she could hear the coldness in her voice. This was not okay. Him acting like this after what they shared was not okay. He turned around slowly and pegged her with his intense emerald-green stare.

“I want to tell you things about myself that will put everything in its rightful place. You need to know who and what I truly am. Then maybe you can see getting involved with me is the worst possible mistake.”

She felt her face heat
.
“Maybe you should have thought about all this before you
fucked
me, twice.” She was immensely pleased when she saw him visibly flinch at her crude language. Two could play at this game. He walked over to the table, sat down, and stared at her, waiting for her to do the same. When she was seated across from him, she waited patiently for him to start.

“Do you know why I told you what I did the night we were intimate?”

She didn’t bother responding because she knew damn well he would continue no matter what she said.

“I didn’t tell you those things because I don’t care for you. I told you them because I
do
care about you.”

Tristan felt her brows draw together.

He ran a hand over his head before he continued. “I come from a broken, abusive family. I grew up in New York, lived in poverty and had to learn to defend myself at a very young age. The ones fighting against me at first were my own drunken parents. Drugs and fists were a constant companion in my life. They were there when I woke up and when I went to bed. The scars go far deeper than my skin.”

Tristan let her gaze travel over his tattooed body. Was that why there was so much ink covering his flesh? Was he hiding scars from the world? As if he saw her appraising him, he cleared his throat.

“This one was from my father when I was eight.” He ran his finger along his bulging bicep. A thick patch of tribal art concealed whatever he was trying to show her. “This one was from a tequila bottle my mother broke over me when I didn’t respond to one of her questions fast enough.” His ran his finger along his pec. Again she saw nothing but dark ink. “This one and this one”—he gestured to his left side and abdomen—“are from a knife one of the neighborhood bullies tried to gut me with.”

She couldn’t help stifling the gasp that spilled forth. Tears welled in her eyes but she refused to let them slide out. She didn’t want to make this any worse for him. He was taking a big leap of faith opening up to her like this, and she didn’t want him to think she felt sorry for him.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “As I got a little older it was the thugs in my neighborhood that felt the need to torment me.” He watched her with unrelenting eyes, as if what he was saying should have scared her away by now. When she didn’t move he continued.

“I got my ass beat every day, up until I started filling into my body. The older and bigger I got, the less people fucked with me. In my early twenties I started getting into alley fights for a little extra cash. A man, Stephen, approached me one day and offered me a chance to get out of the slums and make something of myself. He told me when he was finished with me my name would be known, feared even. I was young, impressionable, and believed everything he said without thought.” He let her hand go and leaned back in his seat, watching her. Maybe he was giving her a minute to really understand what he said. She would have thanked him if she could have found her voice.

“He took me away from all the drugs and violence that had been constant in my life thus far. He became like a father figure to me, showing me how to channel my anger into solid, direct hits that would never let me down. He taught me that the only way to get what I wanted was to fight for it, because nothing in life was worth anything if you didn’t have to throw a couple punches in order to keep it.” He chuckled once but it was far from amusing. “Under Stephen’s command I was a ruthless man, Tristan. I held nothing back when I got into those cages. The blood and fear I extracted from those men fueled me into the monster I am today. I’m good at what I do, Tristan, and it’s all I know. I don’t know how to love someone. I don’t know how to love you like you should be loved.” He took her hand in his again and stared into her eyes. “I’m not ashamed to admit that there isn’t anything to me but that. I am a worthless son of a bitch that has nothing but darkness to offer you.”

Everything around her seemed to cave in. Her anger, her feelings for him, everything vanished for that one moment as she let what he said sink in.

“I am no different than the thugs I grew up around. The only difference is I make money hurting people. It’s hard for me to push my feelings for you aside because they are just too strong, but there can’t be anything between us. I would ruin you, Tristan. Don’t you see that?”

There was angst in his eyes and all she wanted to do was comfort him. His hard shell made sense now, but she had also seen a softer side to him, one that maybe he didn’t even realize he had. How could she make him realize that there was more to him than just a couple of fists? She wanted to ask about this Stephen guy, but she knew he would never give her the information she desired. Whoever this man was, she could see how Kash looked up to him. Maybe Kash had finally found the father he deserved, or maybe this man was just using him as a pawn? She would never know for sure, at least not while Kash still held her at arm’s length.

“Do you not see what I see?” She gripped his hand tighter. “I see a man that is sweet, thoughtful, and caring. I also see one that isn’t afraid of anything and that stood up for himself when no one else would. That doesn’t make you a bad person. That makes you a survivor.” She didn’t need to mention that beating a person’s face in to get a paycheck was not honest work. It was clear he already knew that. The look of understanding was in his eyes. The thought of him as a little boy, being abused and tormented pulled at her heart. She wished she had been there to hold him, take care of him.

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “There is so much goodness in you.” His thumb smoothed over the back of her hand as he held her gaze. “I know who and what I am.” He pulled his hand away and stood. She did the same.

“Please.” She didn’t say anything else because she honestly didn’t know what to say. Her hand was extended in front of her, as if she could will him not to go. “Please, Kash, please don’t go.” He cared for her. He had said as much. Even though he may not feel comfortable with his feelings, they were still there. She meant something to him.

* * * *

This was it, the moment that Kash knew he could no longer avoid. He needed to tell Tristan everything, needed her to know who he really was and why he was no good for her. She was everything good and sweet in the world and he was the grime and trash that littered the street. Maybe if he laid himself out there, showed her what kind of life he had, how he had lived, she would realize that nothing could happen between them. All he could give her was a night of pleasure. Kash didn’t know anything about flowers and love and everything else that was associated with a decent human being.