Furore (The Night Skulls MC #1)(6)

“Hush, baby. I’m here. It’s safe,” he’d have said.

“But you’re not here anymore.”

Just close your eyes and dream of me.

My wet lashes drooped and let the dark surround me. I filled my nostrils with his smell I conjured from memory and wrapped my arms around myself, pretending it was him enfolding me. “Can you sing it?”

Anything for you, Miss Meneceo.

I chuckled. He loved to call me Miss Meneceo, especially in bed. God, it was hot.

But if you laugh at my accent again…

“You know I will.”

Well, laugh all you want, Miss Meneceo. You know what you’re up for if you do.

“No, I don’t.” I lied. I knew exactly what he’d have done. “Just sing.”

Over in Killarney

Many years ago

Me mother sang a song to me

In tones so sweet and low

Just a simple little ditty

In her good old Irish way

And I’d give the world to hear her sing

That song of hers today

Tears rolled down my cheeks, slowly soaking my pillow sheet. I rocked myself like he’d have done, his voice echoing in my head as he pulled the best Irish accent he could muster just for me.

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don’t you cry

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li

I’m here and will never say goodbye, singing you an Irish lullaby

My heart ached. “That’s not how the last line goes.”

I know. Gotta make it my own.

“But you left me, Ty.”

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don’t you cry

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li… Wait…are you laughing?

“You have the worst Irish accent ever.”

His grunt of what would have been disapproval murmured in my ears, sending a sweet shudder down my core. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Bad girls like you don’t get lullabied to sleep. They get fucked to sleep. On your stomach. Now.

I flipped over, my fingers slipping inside my panties. I was so wet and ready for him. God, I missed him. Missed the heat of his lean, firm body cascading over my skin, missed watching the angry cords of his muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing as his hands dug into my flesh, missed the thickness of him filling me all night as he relentlessly pounded me until we were both satisfied and worn out.

Ty didn’t just fuck me to sleep. He fucked the demons out until there was nothing left but the two of us and the peace that came after.

My fingers were nothing compared to the magic he wielded with his cock, but I moved fast, rubbing my clit, my teeth spearing my lips as heat gathered in my belly and pushed lower.

I fucking love your cunt. Love the way you take me, Jo. Fuck, you’re such a slut taking all of me like that, Miss Meneceo.

Moans seeped out of my throat and met the wet sounds my pussy made around my fingers. I want you to look at me. I rolled on my back to see his face as if he were here. Look at how you’re taking my cock, Jo.

I gasped loudly, my back arching, my pelvis in the air reaching, begging for him. I fucking love you, Jo. Fucking love you…

Jo.

My eyes snapped open as, suddenly, it wasn’t Ty’s voice or face in my head. It wasn’t his lips that said my name. It was Furore’s.

C’mon, don’t be shy now. I know you want me like I want you.

“What the fuck?” I gasped at the empty darkness, my mind playing a slideshow of one picture on repeat. Laius Lazzarini’s lips puckering up and whispering my name, slowly, teasingly, sensually.

Be a good girl and finish yourself off for me…Jo.

Abruptly, dark green eyes framed in gray taunting me, my body clenched and an orgasm crashed over me hard.

Ci vediamo, Jo.





CHAPTER 4


Furore



Time on the yard didn’t take my mind off that darn class. The burn in my muscles didn’t rid myself of the rage the brunette bitch had sparked within me when she dared insinuate I was no match for her brains, lying to my face, looking down on me without even knowing me. I did get back at her, acting like I didn’t give a rat’s ass, calling her on her shit, but I was still raging. No one spoke to me like that. I ate bitches like her for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner.

“Going hard on the weights today, ain’t we, Furore? What’s pissin’ ya?” Maverick, a piece of shit runner for Lanza’s Mob, hunkered down next me, a slimy smile on his fucking face.

What was really pissing me more than her fucking attitude was something I wouldn’t admit to myself, let alone to some motherfucking mafia bitch. The unbelievable wild lust that five hundred sit-ups and a hundred pounds of heavy lifting couldn’t shake. The hunger that slammed into me once she thought she could challenge me, and the fucking desire that shot through me during that flicker of a touch… Fuck.

I was supposed to fidget her up with that touch, not the other way around. That buzz that traveled between us had been so unexpected it caught me off guard. Damn, I missed my bike and the club whores that lined up to suck this stupid shit out of me. Since that spiteful bitch I’d made my ol’ lady framed me, sent my ass to the slammer the first time, took my baby boy and left the whole state to whore herself and land a richer motherfucker, I trusted no damn creature with a cunt. And every time I came close to feeling anything, and I meant anything, that could be mistakenly taken for any kind of affection toward a woman, I rode long and fucked hard until none of it was left.