Kings of Chaos (Dirty Broken Savages #1)(80)

I can’t fucking hold back anymore.

I shove her pants off and pick her up to sit her on the counter. She’s wet as fuck, practically making a little puddle where she sits, and the smell of her arousal is thick in the air, mixing with the scent of the blood from my cut and her nipple.

It’s a heady combination, and now I feel like I might be drunk on it too. But that’s fine. I don’t need to be sober for this.

“Fucking—get in me,” she practically snarls, and I laugh.

I might have been tempted to draw it out more out of spite, but fuck, she’s right. We’ve already waited too long. I shove my pants down out of the way, my cock hard and leaking at the tip already.

The piercing in my cock matches the ring in her nipple, and I like that. I really fucking like that. It’s like we’re two peas in a pod, marked and fucked up together.

I sink into her, and her pussy is warm and wet and tight and perfect.

“Fuck,” I swear under my breath. I get my hands on her ass and drag her in closer until I’m buried to the hilt inside her.

She puts her arms around my neck, and I can feel her clawing at my shoulders, raking hot lines down my back as I fuck her. The pain just adds to it, and I pound into her tight channel, making sure she feels every single inch of me.

Her cries ring out in the bathroom, but I don’t give a fuck if any of the others hear us. This is our moment. This is our thing.

She’s pressed against my chest, and I know that has to be putting pressure on her piercing. I can feel the blood from it soaking into my shirt, making it even more of a mess than it was before.

It’s all just a part of it. All just foreplay that rolls into sex for us.

I slam my cock into her again and again, and she screams and thrashes and holds on as best she can.

It’s violent and rough, and any tenderness is wrapped up in the chaos of it. Maybe this is tenderness for us, I don’t fucking know.

I can feel her leaving bloody scratches down my back, and each time I flex and pull at one of the scrapes, it makes me fuck into her harder. Her body takes it so well. Legs spread wide, pussy soaking wet and letting me in again and again.

It sounds like a goddamn porno in here with all the moaning and the harsh breathing and her pussy being so wet. All of that goes to my head, and I can tell that my orgasm isn’t going to take long to rush over me.

River’s already glassy-eyed and out of it, high on that pain and pleasure and not coming down any time soon. I thrust into her a few more times, and then reach between our bodies to grab the ring in her nipple.

I keep fucking her while I tug at it gently enough that it won’t tear through her skin or fuck up the hole, but hard enough that I know she feels it.

She gives a strangled noise that’s agony and ecstasy wrapped into one, and then her core goes tight like a vise around my cock. Locks it in a stranglehold as she comes with another scream and digs her nails into my skin.

She practically milks my own orgasm out of me, and I follow her over that edge with a low grunt.

It feels damn good, and I pump all I’ve got into her, fucking her until I go soft.

In the aftermath, we’re both sweaty, a little sore, and streaked with blood. River sits on the counter, leaning back against the mirror and trying to catch her breath. Her pussy drips with her release and mine, and her nipple is bleeding again.

She looks fucking radiant like this. Like she went toe-to-toe with a beast and came out of it on top. We both won, and knowing she can go a full round with the monster inside me is the sexiest fucking thing.

There’s no doubt about it. I’m fucking addicted to this girl.





33





RIVER





A DAY OR TWO LATER, I haven’t had any luck tracking down other sex workers who seem to have had interactions with Ivan. I don’t know if they’re all clamming up, or if that bastard is just really good at covering his tracks, but either way, it’s frustrating as hell.

This is the one way in that I haven’t tried yet, and I want it to pan out.

Finally, something goes right, and I get a message from Avalon.

Meet me at the diner tonight. I should be done around 1 a.m.

It shakes me out of the bad mood I was in, and I get ready and head out at the right time.

She’s already at the diner when I get there, a steaming cup of tea and a slice of pie in front of her. Even all dressed up for work, she still looks young and afraid, but I settle across from her, letting her direct this meeting so I don’t scare her off.

Avalon has a sip of tea and a bite of pie and then looks at me. “I want to know why you want to know about Ivan St. James,” she says. “Most people who ask questions about him are…” She sighs. “Well, they don’t have good intentions. And I don’t really want to stick my neck out and get burned if this blows up.”

She chews on her lip, looking like she’s debating saying more, but then decides against it, going quiet and waiting for me to speak.

The fear and uncertainty are there in her big blue eyes, and I can understand where she’s coming from.

She’s in a vulnerable position, already working a job where she doesn’t get a lot of protection at all. If something were to go bad, I highly fucking doubt her pimp would protect her. And she doesn’t know me at all, so she doesn’t have a lot of reason to trust that I’m not about to do something stupid and drag her down with me.