Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2)
He laughed, crawling up the bed, and I slowly dropped back down onto my back. Once his hard body was completely covering mine, he widened my legs with his and dipped his mouth to the crook of my neck, licking me from under my ear to my mouth.
“Here’s the thing,” he whispered into my mouth.
He’s going to kill me. I’m such a fucking idiot.
His hand glided down my body, squeezing my nipples roughly along the way. He drew my earlobe into his mouth before growling, “I don’t fuck with virgins.” Then his fingers entered inside my walls roughly. I cried out, lost in the sudden invasion. He dropped his lips down to mine. His fingers began to stretch me open and a stinging sensation electrified to life down there.
“What’re you doing?” I asked him through gritted teeth.
It hurt. It hurt bad.
A sudden jerk rippled down below followed by the most excruciating feeling I had ever experienced. Wetness slowly trickled over my ass cheek.
“I just took your virginity.” His eyes lit up like a beacon of maliciousness, twirling around in a pool of lust and brutality. My eyes searched his, tears pricking the sides of my lids, slowly brewing to expose my distress. “Still want to fuck me, princess? Because I’m pretty sure you’re not ready for me.”
Despite my better judgment, I wasn’t satisfied. This had to be the single most humiliating experience I had ever lived through, but I won’t be walking out of here until I get fucked. This isn’t part of the losing-your-virginity package.
“You want a girl to leave your tent unsatisfied?” I taunted him. “I hear that’s usually not your thing.”
I wasn’t just playing with a camp fire; I was playing with a brush fire which could swipe through and destroy cities.
His eyes narrowed as he raised the hand that he just used to “deflower” me up to my lips, his blood-smeared fingers glossing over them. I slammed my mouth closed, grossed out by the ordeal. “You sure about that? You can still back out,” he assured me, and although I knew he was a complete asshole, I knew he would stop if I wanted him to.
He’s a lot of things, but I knew he wasn’t a rapist.
I nodded my head. “Ye—“ His fingers pushed into my mouth at the same time the piercing stinging sensation intensified down below and I cried out, the metallic twang dominating my taste buds. Tears streamed down my face as his fingers pushed deeper down my throat until my air supply began to come in waves, from present to nonexistent. I realized that he was choking me so bad that he would wait until I would almost pass out before he’d give me more air with each rough thrust of his cock entering me. He warned me, but I called his bluff. Now I wish I hadn’t. Even though I knew he played dirty, the fact that he was still giving me air was comforting. He pushed into me again, intensifying his thrust by pressing his pelvic bone onto my clit and, slowly but surely, my worries disappeared as pleasure began to flow through in waves. The stinging had slowly dissipated, or was still there, simmering lightly under the pleasure. I was sure I’d feel it once we were finished, and I was one hundred percent certain that I wouldn’t be able to walk for at least a week. But Hella wasn’t the type of man you walked away from after he fucked you; he’s the type of man that had you dragging your tattered knees across the pavement trying to remember your own name.
Once we had both—he made sure I came, twice—finished, I crawled up his bed, pulling his now bloodstained sheets up with me. He threw his shirt over his head and pointed to his door. “Get out.”
I quickly climbed off his bed, the pain between my thighs making my pulling my pants back on traumatizing. Once I was dressed, I pushed out of his doors and walked back towards my tent. Holy shit. That was the single most terrifying-yet-pleasurable experience of my life. Yet, I wouldn’t be crawling into his tent ever again.
Melissa
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper on my third glass of rum. “You know,” I begin, picking up the bottle and pouring in more of the potent rum. “That doesn’t exactly surprise me.”
She laughs, sliding her glass towards me for a refill. “Of course, I didn’t take my own advice. I ended up sleeping with him again a few years later. Hella is the kind of dirty that doesn’t wash off.”
I smile around the rim of my glass. “I can’t comment on the decisions one’s vagina makes once it’s had a taste of him.” Her head swings back, laughter filling the air as my chuckles join hers. “I think I’m drunk.”
Jada nods. “Me too. Your sister usually sleep this long?” she asks.
“I wasn’t asleep,” comes Millie’s voice from behind, startling us. “I was just waiting for you to finish your story—which is disgusting, by the way—before I came back in here.”
I beam. “Not even sorry. If that’s the most action you’re ever going to get, I’ll gladly tell Jada to share more stories about her sex life.”
“Oh no,” Jada answers around her laughter. “I want to hear about yours.”
The front door opens and my eyes widen at Jada. “Is it?” I mouth to her, and she shrugs. I look down at what I’m wearing: a tight polka-dot tank top and little latex yoga shorts, which should be classified as underwear because my ass cheeks literally fall out from under them.
Hella walks into the kitchen and my eyes close briefly before I mouth, “Fuck.”
“What?” he answers with a wide grin. “What’d I walk in on right now?”
“Oh, just secret girl stuff,” Jada answers, taking a sip of her rum.
“I think I’m buzzed beyond return,” I whisper absently. “It’s barely nine a.m. and I’m drunk. It’s happened, I’ve fallen. I’ve reached rock-bottom and it’s all on rum.” I begin laughing hysterically. “Just call me Jack Sparrow, Captain! Jack Sparrow!”
Hella looks to Jada, who’s laughing hysterically as well. “The fuck?” Hella criticizes, swiping the rum off the table and placing it up high on top of the fridge.
“Jeez, Melissa,” Millie scolds from the sink. “Some shit never changes.”
“HA!” I point to Millie. “I knew you were my sister. You just cursed!”
Millie rolls her eyes. “This is your fault,” she says to Hella.
Hella looks down at her. “How’s this my fault? I only just walked in the door.”
“The story of you being Jada’s first time sent her over the edge.”
Hella’s face pales briefly. “Oh, shit.”
I begin laughing again, pointing at his face mockingly. “Oh, now, now. It wasn’t that bad. Who wants to hear about my first time?” I throw my hands up like a child in first grade when a teacher asks them a really cool question.
Millie steps up to me, grabbing my hand. “No, Melissa. Shut up.” The chortling stops instantly. My laughter slowly jolting, dying out with them until my smile drops completely.
“Sorry,” I apologize, pushing from the table. “I need a shower.”
Melissa
Pushing through the bathroom door, I slam it shut behind me and slide the lock over. Stepping backwards, the rim of the toilet seat hits my leg when the first tear strolls down my cheek. My hand flies up to my mouth as sobs begin to wrack my body. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or what triggered it, but I’m guessing alcohol was a major factor.
“Melissa?” There’s a light knock on the door.
“Go away, Millie.” A sob escapes again and then there’s a louder, more violent pound on the door. The metal locks jolt under its force.
“Baby? Open the door.”
“Baby?” Jada snorts. “I fucking knew it!” she screams excitedly. I want to kill her. I know she’s drunk and that’s why she’s acting like that, but at least if I kill her now, she’d be too drunk to beat my ass.
“Fuck off, Jada. Take your drunk ass to the kitchen and eat some food,” Hella orders.
Millie taps again. “Open the door, Lissa. Please! I’m sorry.”
I scrub my face with the hand towel that’s hanging on the rail. Then I unlock the door and pull it open before Hella kicks the damn thi
ng down. “I’m fine,” I answer, trying to swallow the whimpers that threaten to slither out of my mouth. Hella takes hold of Millie’s arm before shoving both of us into the bathroom. He kicks the door shut with his foot. I walk back to the toilet, taking a seat on the closed bowl.
“Talk,” he demands.
My eyes close. “It doesn’t matter.”
“The fuck it doesn’t!” he roars, ripping his cap off and pulling at his hair in frustration. I flinch, weaving my fingers together on my lap. He takes a few more deep breaths as Millie and I both remain quiet. He leans against the door and slides down to the floor. “I know enough about what a girl looks like when something or someone has traumatized her—though, I’m usually the one doing the traumatizing. Now talk.”
I look at him, searching his eyes and finding nothing but hurt and confusion coming from them. Maintaining eye contact, I whisper, “I didn’t have a very good first time, either.” He nods, urging me to continue. Something about the energy of all of us sitting in this confined space mixed with the rum, I feel like I can open up. “Except Jada allowed you to take hers.”
All the air leaves him, a hiss escaping his mouth, and he looks up at the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobbing past his swallow. “Did someone touch you who shouldn’t have?” he asks calmly, keeping his eyes trained on the roof. Too calmly. “Answer me, Melissa, and don’t lie to me.”
“Not just some one,” I whisper as single tears begin trickling onto my thigh. “Four.” My throat hitches.
Hella pushes off the wall, walking towards me. Millie’s sobs fill the air along with my own. Hella’s hand slithers around my chin, tilting my face up to his.
“I’m fucking sorry, baby.” His warm lips skim over mine, kissing me softly. “But I’m gonna need those names,” he murmurs against my lips. He pulls back and searches my eyes. “I’m serious, babe. I’m gonna need those names. No one pulls that shit with someone I care about and lives to see another day. They’ve already been living on borrowed time.”
“No!” I answer, shooting off the toilet seat. “No, Hella. It’s done. It was a long time ago now.”
Millie mutters. “That was only half of it.”
I look down at her, narrowing my eyes. “Millie, shut up.”
“No,” she answers, standing to her feet. “You’ve lived with this for long enough. My God hasn’t pulled through this time. Justice was never served.” She wipes away her tears angrily. “I was always hoping, waiting, wishing that they would be punished for their actions. But it never came. Maybe this is the way God had put it for me. He works in mysterious ways.”
“Millie!” I snap at her, urging her to shut up.
I don’t think she actually realizes how lethal Hella is. She’s probably assuming he’s the typical guy who finds something out about his girl being touched and threatens to kill the people who did it—but Hella’s threats aren’t empty. They’re filled with promise and sealed with destruction.
Hella releases me before dropping down to Millie. “Tell me,” he admonishes softly. My body tightens as I slowly grasp the realization of what I’ve just done. Dropping back to the toilet bowl, I raise my hand. “Wait,” I whisper. “If she does this, Hella, you’re not going to pursue the names. Or else I can’t do this. I need someone in control. Show me you have it.”
His jaw sets so hard, I think it might crack before he nods to Millie. “Continue.”
“Melissa was going to be a mom. They—we don’t know which one—impregnated her that night. One day she had gone to the drug store to purchase a test when she bumped into their ringleader. He saw her test and walked out. She thought nothing of it. Cutting a long story short, they all cornered her and beat her within an inch of her life. She was on life support for two weeks before she began to show progress. Melissa hasn’t been the same since, using men as a stepping stool above her feelings. Anyway, we couldn’t press charges and fight them. Melissa refused to have her name thrown into the media and mom couldn’t afford it. After dad left, we had nothing to live on. Mom was stripping and escorting with high-flyers so Melissa could go to college. We couldn’t risk it.”
Hella launches his fist at the wall, a dark hole swallowing it, and I jolt in my spot. His breathing deepens to a deathly level and I look at Millie. “Out. I’ll talk to you when I’m sober.” I bring a hand up to his back, my white skin contrasting off his black cut. “Brax?” I whisper.
He turns around and falls against the wall, his eyes looking through mine. His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’m not in a good space right now, baby. I’m gonna need to calm down. You should go.”
I run my hands up his chest before locking them around the back of his neck. “Calm down inside me. Show me that they no longer exist inside my head.”
His heart pounds against my palm and his hands grip around the back of my thighs. He lifts me, my legs wrapping around him instantly. His mouth comes down to mine, his tongue slipping inside. He walks towards the shower, bends, and turns on the faucet before stepping us both inside the tub all while not breaking our kiss. He begins to lay me down softly in the tub and I lock my arms around his neck, the warm water cascading over us. He breaks our kiss and removes his shirt, every inch of his delicious body rippled under his mass of tattoos. I rip my boy shorts and tank off before he lies back on top of me, his body pressing into mine. I internally thank whoever it was that designed this massive two-person tub. My legs widen for him as he rests in between them. Laying little kisses over my chest, he makes his way down between my thighs, his warm mouth covering my clit. My back arches in response and my hands find his hair. I prop myself up onto my elbows and he peers up at me as he licks me, dragging his tongue up, his chiseled strong jaw prominent and the thick dark lashes that cover his dazzling blue eyes fanning out over his soft flawless skin. He smirks, slowing down his pace. He isn’t in a rush; he’s taking his time, kissing me passionately down there. My chest rises and falls heavily, my breathing picking up. His tongue slides inside me. I moan out again, sweat trickling off my body from his agonizing pace. His thumb presses on my clit as his tongue circles inside me, and my thighs clench together. Little colorful dots explode behind my shut lids as my orgasm ripples through me.
He presses himself up on his fists, making his way back up my body, each muscle on his body tensing with each movement. My hands come up to his upper arms as he rests between my legs. His eyes latch onto mine, all cockiness gone. Our gazes remain locked as he slowly presses his cock into me, filling me, stretching me with each movement. Something explodes in my chest and when I look up at him, his eyebrows are bunched together, his eyes studying my face slowly.
His lips glide over mine and he whispers, “No one will ever touch you again, baby. I promise.” He draws his hips up, the suction of his withdrawal tightening around his dick. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he growls softly, his lips finding mine again as he presses back into me, deepening his movement.
I scratch my nails down his back as his pace picks up and his tongue dances with mine, dancing to our own fucked-up tune. I hook my arm around the back of his neck, my hand running through his hair, caging him in.
Each thrust, he circles his hips, his pelvic bone smashing against my clit as his shaft glides over my spot. He rocks into me until our sweaty bodies are slapping together and my legs begin to cramp. My core tenses as I ascend closer to my orgasm, my breath hitching at the awareness of how much this might just destroy me, the built-up tension, my emotions from earlier, the alcohol… and Hella.
His finger pinches my nipple as he sucks my lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it softly. “Come for me, baby. Let go. I got you,” he growls softly against my mouth as he presses in again.
I lose it. My body convulses as my orgasm surges through me again, taking my body to a place I’ve not been before, locked in a world where it’s just Hella and me. His cock pulses as he unloads himself inside me before he sinks down onto my chest, the water still dropping down onto us.
I smile with a
small laugh. “That was intense.”
He pulls himself up and looks down into my eyes. Pressing his lips against mine gently, I open my mouth again, welcoming him in, and he takes it like the greedy bastard he is.
“Mmm,” he groans against me as his cock grows, stretching inside me again.
I swat him in the arm. “Perv. Let me out.”
“No,” he growls, placing little kisses down my body.
“Hella,” I answer absently, my eyes closing again.
A loud banging sounds off on the other side of the door.
“Fuck off,” Hella yells out.
“Yeah, brother, we have a problem.” It was Ripper.
“Fuck,” Hella mumbles. He lays one more hard kiss on my lips. “This isn’t over.” His eyes search mine, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me. He climbs out of the tub, pulls his wet clothes back on, and yanks the door open. I rub the water from my face before standing and turning the faucet to scorching hot. Taking the soap in my hand, the door closes behind Hella’s departure and I rub it over my skin quickly before climbing out and wrapping a towel around my body.
I wipe the mist off the mirror and scan my face closely, my lips swollen and red from our kisses. I smile with the memories of him flashing before my eyes. There’s so much more to Braxton Ward. The question is, do I want to learn more and risk getting my heart broken, or should I walk away now while I’m not invested in him?
It doesn’t matter. I’m already invested in him; I just haven’t realized it yet.
Hella
Walking into the boardroom with Ripper following my steps, he laughs. “Okay, so it’s official then? Melissa isn’t fair game anymore?”
I spin around, my jaw set. “Stay away from her.”
“Hella, Ripper, sit down.” Beast points to the seats. “We got a problem.”
I pull the seat out and drop down onto it. Flashes run through my brain—Melissa’s tight wet body, the light moans that exited her every time I pushed deep inside her—and my eyes shut out briefly before I readjust myself. Don’t know what the fuck is going on with me, but whatever it is, no one’s going near her until I figure this shit out or she figures it out, because I’m pretty sure if she deprives me of her pussy, I’d drop down to my knees and give her whatever she wants like a little bitch. Whatever happens, I know one thing’s for sure: I’m not ready for an old lady, so I hope like fuck she doesn’t start making demands. That’d be a deal breaker. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, fucker. Another thing’s for certain: the piece of shits that did that to her all those years ago will pay for it, whether we end up together or not.