Burned (Devil's Blaze MC, #2)(39)

“Why does it matter?” I ask, trying to divert him. “If they turn you off…”

He stops me from pulling away. “I didn’t say that, sweetness. There’s not a f*cking thing about you that turns me off. I just want to know how you got them. They remind me of some of the scars my brother Beast has.”

I swallow. Bethie has talked incessantly about the club. She thought of them as her family before Skull’s note. I know right away who Beast is and I know what scars he would have. They would be very much like mine, I’d imagine, except Beast got his heroically. He got his willingly. I was just a guinea pig, a way to further my father’s great plan. Collateral damage.

“There was a fire…” I tell him, which isn’t the truth, but close enough.

“Sweetness,” he groans, the word sounding haunted. My legs are in the water, but because they’re draped over his, the tops are out. He bends down and kisses the scar. I swallow in response.

I’m feeling self-conscious and on-display—neither emotion is good for me. I need to divert him, and fast. “Torch…” He looks at me. I see the disappointment in his eyes, and just like that, the moment’s broken.

“Hold your head back, Katydid,” he says, grabbing a plastic cup off the edge of the tub. It’s white, but has the motel name on it. I hold my head back just as Torch pulls me up on his lap.

“What—?”

“I just needed you closer for this. Now, hold your head back,” he instructs me again, and I do it, but it’s hard to concentrate when I can feel his dick pushing against my ass.

How much torture can one woman take?

He pours water through my hair over and over, making sure it’s all wet. When he stops, I look up to find him pouring shampoo in his hand. He rubs it in my hair and then massages it in my scalp. I’ve never had a man wash my hair before. Even when we showered together, our hands were much too busy doing other things. Now, I suddenly wonder why. It’s amazing. I groan at the feel of the way he rubs the shampoo into my hair, taking time to massage and knead my head in the process, which relaxes me.

“That feels good,” I moan, grinding my ass against his hardened cock. He’s been priming my body for him and I’m not even aware of it. Suddenly, I’m dying to have him inside of me. “Hunter,” I growl, my nails biting into his shoulders so hard I know they’re leaving marks. If he doesn’t hurry up and give me what I need, I’m going to draw blood.

“I have something to make you feel better,” he says, starting to rinse my hair now.

“Show me,” I urge him, shifting so I can take his cock in my hand and hold it still. I slide down on him, our eyes locked on one another, and I don’t stop until he’s completely inside of me.

This time, his groan mingles with mine.





I watch as Katie guides me inside of her. I had forgotten just how f*cking wonderful she felt. She slides down on my dick, squeezing him inside her tight little body.

Fuck, I want to come right then.

I give up all pretense of rinsing her hair. More important things are on my mind now. I capture her breast in my hand and run my tongue over the nipple, slowly at first, looking up to watch her face the entire time.

Her head is thrown back in pleasure. Her hips make this f*cking turn as she grinds down on my cock, causing the muscles in her stomach to flutter and my eyes are drawn there. I’m hypnotized by that one movement. That’s when it hits me.

Fucking-nails-in-my-coffin! I didn’t suit up. I didn’t even think of suiting up. Jesus. What is going on with me?

I hold her hips. “Katie…”

Nothing. If anything, she picks up her speed.

“Fuck, Hunter, you feel even more amazing than I remember. So f*cking big inside of me. It feels like you’re going to split me apart. Stretches me so good,” she moans, and Christ Jesus, what the hell am I supposed to do here? I don’t want to stop her.

“Katie, sweetness, we have to stop… We can’t do this.”

“I think we should do it harder,” she moans, then lifts off my cock and slams back down onto it, grinding on me and squeezing my cock so f*cking tight, I wouldn’t be surprised if the f*cker doesn’t break in half.

“Katie… We’re not protected, sweetness. I didn’t put on a glove,” I tell her, giving one last Hail Mary before I say f*ck it and get lost in the Promised Land.

She freezes mid-grind. I want to kick my own ass.

“What?” she asks, her eyes clouded with lust, her voice a mere whisper compared to the noises she was making earlier.

“We forgot the condom, sweetness. We need to stop.”

“Oh my God!” she cries, then practically pulls my dick out of her. She stands up, nearly falling because of her bad leg. I grab hold of her to keep her from slamming back against the tiled wall.

“Will you slow down before you hurt yourself?” I growl. Her reaction isn’t making me happy. I mean, I know we didn’t need to risk it, but damn it all to hell, she’s treating my dick like it has crabs or something. It’s enough to wound a man’s ego.

“What have you done?” she cries, pulling away from my hold and getting out of the tub. She wraps a towel around her, as if to shield her body from me.

I think that’s about enough of that. I stand up too, and when I get in front of her, I’m rather proud of the way my dick is standing out, demanding attention. Demanding her attention.