Caught Up (Into Darkness Trilogy)

by Navessa Allen

I’d learned all her sounds, studied the way she made herself climax. It might have seemed obsessive, but it wasn’t; it was strategic. One day, I would use everything I’d learned against her, make her come faster than anyone else had, convince her that my hands and my tongue and my dick were made to get her off. I wanted her to crave me, need me. Was it manipulative? All kinds of messed up? Absolutely.

I didn’t give a single, solitary fuck.

“Awww,” Junior said, his grin widening. “You think I’m pretty.”

If hell had orgies, his cologne was what they smelled like: dark, smoky, with a seductive hint of spiced musk and the subtle tang of sadism.

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”

What was it about a guy kitted out in motorcycle gear that was such a turn-on? Was it the badass stereotype? The fact that so many bikers had been depicted as rebels without a cause in film and TV? Or was it the anonymity of the helmet? Anyone could be underneath that thing, and I’d always had a bit of a mask kink.

At least I wasn’t the only one about to implode, but knowing she was just as turned on as I was didn’t help my current situation. I wanted to grab her, drag her onto my lap, shred that flimsy excuse for a dress with my bare hands, and fucking ruin her with my cock.

“Run, Lauren,” I said, unable to stop myself. “Make it good for both of us.”

Taking a deep breath, I turned her back around to face the wall, whispering into her ear, “Only for you, Lo.” And then I dropped to my knees.

If I was being totally honest with myself, I wanted to fuck him. Hard. Dirty. Rough. I wanted everything his reputation promised. I wanted him ruthless. Wanted him to use me like his plaything.

“What are you going to do instead?” she asked. “I’m considering joining the priesthood.” She grinned. “Does that mean I’ll get to call you Daddy?” I nearly choked. “Isn’t it Father?”

the stretch was so delicious that it seemed impossible to hold still. I wanted more of him, all of him, until he was shoved so deep that I felt him hit the back of my teeth.

I was in a confessional booth, near a packed banquet hall, a group of people just outside, speared on the head of a cock, with a man’s hand stroking my clit. It was the most life-altering religious experience of my life.

Junior was leaning against the stoop railing with his legs crossed at the ankle, the streetlights casting his face in sharp angles. God, that jawline was next level.

I’ve been inside you, that look said. I’ve felt you come around the head of my cock. And if you think that was the last time I’ll ever wrap my fingers around your throat, you’re out of your goddamn mind.

The mobster and the camgirl, out together at a nice family cookout. What was the worst that could happen?

“That’s me, a real gentleman. Grab her hand in the streets and her hair in the sheets.”

“I will remember the feel of you coming on the head of my dick until the day I die.”

The spiders could be anywhere.

Goddamn pain in the ass jungle gym fucking bullshit.