Furore (The Night Skulls MC #1)(30)

Jo was heaven. The only heaven I’d go to.

Her hand left my cock as she let go of her panties, covering my cum, keeping it on her, with her. If that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d ever seen…

I tucked my cock back in my jeans as she closed her legs and pulled her skirt down. The clock chimed, announcing the end of our time together. I saw the disappointment in her eyes that mirrored mine, but also I saw the concern. When she reached for her shades, I stopped her hand in its tracks. “I need to see you again.”

“Even after you knew the truth?”

“Especially after I knew the truth. Promise me, Jo. Promise me you’ll come back tomorrow. I don’t think I can wait until I’m out. I promise you, you’ll be safe. I won’t let anything hurt you. But, please, come back tomorrow.”

She lifted the most eccentric pale greenish blue eyes at me. The ones that enchanted me from the first moment I saw them. Then she blinked in disbelief before she hid her gaze from me with those fucking shades. “I think—”

I grabbed her into my embrace and held her tight, never wanting to let go. “You will not leave me, Jo. Never,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re mine now. My cum in your panties proves it. You’re mine, and you know it. I’m not asking, baby girl. You will come back tomorrow, Jocasta Larvin.”





CHAPTER 19


Jo



Jo Meneceo. Formerly Fiona Andrews. Originally Jocasta Larvin or should have been if my father had bestowed me with his royal name. He never did, so I took my mother’s last name. Jocasta Kelly.

I should have been a daughter to a king. A princess. Instead, I’d lived as a pauper, an unwanted bastard, a liability at risk of losing her life at any time. And now, at twenty-three, I was officially a slut. I literally was driving home with a man’s cum on my pussy. A man, my own student, came on me, in a prison.

I’d never felt dirtier in my whole life, yet it didn’t bother me. In fact, I had this silly grin on my face all the way back to my apartment, and I’d thought I’d never smile again. Not after all the trauma and sadness I’d known nothing but in my life. And not after Tirone. Not so quickly, anyway. All it took was having an orgasm by the hand of a gangster biker as he shot his cum on my pussy in a wild place like prison while fifty people surrounded us, some of them holding weapons.

Yup, a total slut.

Staring at the boxes cluttering my bedroom, I found myself going back and forth about finishing packing them. Part of me still thought starting over somewhere else was the right and the safest thing to do. Another part, the one possessed by a mind haunting orgasm, was dying to go back to San Quentin—to Furore—tomorrow, without an ounce of fear or worry of what might be the consequences.

My hand traveled to my panties, reminding me of the epic debauchery I’d just indulged in, like I’d ever forget. No matter what, I’d always remember the day I pulled my skirt up for a prisoner, pulled my panties to the side, let him come on me while he rubbed the shit out of my clit until I came for him, too. I stared down at my soiled underwear, the evidence this wasn’t a dream or a scene from a book I loved so much I pretended I lived it for real.

I should take them off, though. I should shower and take the prison smell off me. My nose skimmed the fabric of my shirt where Furore’s scent lingered. I expected he’d be filthy, but he didn’t smell bad at all. Yes, there were hints of cigarettes and sweat, but the majority of it was him, his so manly scent that had set my vagina fluttering then and now at the reminder.

I circled my clit on top of my panties, my eyes hooded at the feeling. What would happen if I touched myself while his cum was still on me?

You’re so dirty. Just go shower and finish packing so you can put all this behind you and go.

While I agreed with the sane part of my inner voice, I found myself stretching on the bed, sprawled with my hand sliding into my center. “Just one more time, then I’ll go.”

I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled my breast out of the bra. Then I flicked my nipple and squeezed. Something I’d have loved if he’d done. I rubbed at my clit, picturing the plum sized crown of his massive cock doing the work. I wished I’d had the courage and peeked under the table to see him so I could have the full picture now.

My lip curled under my teeth as I imagined his cock with the jewelry on. I’d looked up cock piercings on my way home. The website listed a set of benefits to the jewelry for the sexual partner that I’d love to experience. And I had to admit they looked hot and whoever had them must have been a fearless badass. It seemed I had a thing for dangerous, badass men who rode bikes, were over the top jealous and possessive and didn’t care enough for the law.

Don’t you dare think about Tirone. Ever. Just Furore. Just this one time and then never again.

Closing my eyes, listening to Laius’s voice talking dirty in those husky whispers, I touched myself. Seeing only the dark arousal in his gaze behind my eyelids, I moaned. My fingers lifted to my nose for a second so I could smell his seed, the little souvenir he’d left for me and marked me with, and the pressure gathering down my belly intensified.

God, I shouldn’t desire Laius Lazzarini as much as I did, but he was taking over me without permission. He was so hot, in command, powerful, and above all he was protecting me even though he didn’t have to. He liked me for me, and he wasn’t afraid of who I was. After all he’d learned about me, he liked me. He wanted me. He demanded I stayed.