Striker: A Dark Bully Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 1) by Rachel Leigh (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

“I am tough. And I’m not scared of you.”

Cold fingers wrap around my waist beneath my sweatshirt. They feel like ice on my bare skin, coursing up my rib cage. “If you’re so tough, why are you still standing here? Why not fight me off and leave?”

I draw in a ragged breath. “I can’t leave until I know this is over. That I won’t find another mysterious box in my bedroom or a cop at my door. I want to know that you guys will leave me alone.”

“Is that all? Or are you afraid that I’ll strap you to that chair and shock parts of your body that crave electricity?” His chest presses harder into me, sandwiching me between him and the wall.

Even if I tried to get away right now, I’d fail. I should try. But, I don’t. I hate that part of me likes the way his touch numbs my skin and his words warm my insides.

His index finger traces my jawline, then glides down my neck to my chest, then slowly down my side. Drawing in a deep breath, I’m unsure how long I was holding it. “I could make you feel so fucking good.”

Bringing my lower lip inward, I bite down, holding it between my teeth. My breaths are staggered as I question my own sanity. My mind begging him to keep going as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of my shorts. Tilting my head back, I let him have me at his mercy.

“Do you think I could make you feel good, baby girl?”

Yes.

“No.”

He chuckles. “I could make you see fucking stars if you let me.”

I’ll let you. Show me them. I beg in silence.

“Do you want me to make you feel good, Marni?” His voice is gruff and lust-filled.

Yes.

Only I don’t say it. Admitting defeat is not something I’m able to do. If he knew how bad I wanted him to shove his fingers inside of me, he’d hold all the power.

He lifts my leg up, and lets it rest on his strong forearm. His hand pressing against the wall, holding me in place while his other hand slides up the leg of my shorts. I close my eyes tightly, internally begging him to do something. Anything to satisfy this undeniable urge to lose myself in him. I’m not even sure if it’s him that I want or just someone to make me feel good. I could just go home and get myself off. My hand moves under the fabric of his shirt.

As I creep higher, unknowingly searching for a grip while I succumb to temptation, his hand slaps it away. “Never do that again,” he gripes. His body tenses up for a sliver of second, but it doesn’t stop him.

Two fingers begin trickling the seams of my panties, and then, without warning, they plummet full force inside of me. My body jerks up as I let out a whimper. Each thrust sends me higher and higher as he fucks me with his fingers. “Oh god.” I moan, bringing my hands behind his head and gripping his hair in my fists. There is nothing soft and gentle about his movements. It’s so rough that it’s painful, but I crave more of the pain.

“Oh fuck.” I gasp, unable to control my outburst.

“You like that, baby girl?” he says, thrusting so deep that I can feel him in my stomach.

“Uh huh.” He sticks in another finger.

“Tell me that I make you feel good.”

When I don’t respond, he curls his fingers inside of me and digs deeper.

“Tell me!” he urges.

Succumbing to his demands, I choke out, “You make me feel good.”

His cock grinds against me as he dry fucks my leg that's still planted firmly on the floor. Completely out of control, I begin panting as he prods at my insides. So fast, so hard, and so unbelievably satisfying. My walls constrict as I feel the evidence of my orgasm pool around the half of his hand that’s shoved inside of me.

My leg begins to quiver in his hold, but he doesn’t stop. Even when I push my leg down with force to drop his arm, he continues to finger me with the same potency, thrusting his cock harder against me. “Fuck,” he growls, “you are soaked.”

His rhythmic grunts escalate as he leans his head back, pulling his fingers out as my own liquid dribbles down my bare leg. The pads of his two fingers begin rubbing my clit in a circular motion, sending new waves of electricity coursing through every inch of my body.

Flexing my lower half, I push myself into him further as he rubs faster. I lift my leg up and grind my knee against his solid cock.

“Ready to see those stars, baby?” he mutters through his heady breaths.

Before I can even gather a thought to respond, his fingers begin vibrating against my clit. Bucking my hips out, I lose all control and begin moaning. Fighting back the electricity that is shooting through my body, the voltage so high that I can’t handle it. I pull back but want more. Push into him but lose my breath. “Oh god.” I moan, before I reach the sky and come floating back down.

Opening my eyes, that I didn’t even know were closed, I look down when I hear the sound of Talon’s zipper. It’s still so dark, but I can make out his hand wrapped around his cock as he pumps it a few times, before shooting his cum all over my leg that is still in his hold.

Once he drops my leg, and my breathing steadies, a rush of guilt hits me. At least I think it’s guilt. Whatever it is, it feels dirty. Doing this here—with him. A man who has been taunting me, threatening me, and trying to imprison me.

When he has his zipper back up, he leans forward, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. “You never speak of this to anyone. Do you