Sins of the Father (Ravens Ruin MC 1)

And the fucked-up part?

I’m letting her.

I’m succumbing to her, ceasing to the suction and perfectly synthesized scrape of her teeth and feather-light licks of her tongue.

Coming in her mouth isn’t an option. There’s no coming back from that. There’s no way I could push her away, spend one solitary night alone in my bed if I know what it feels like to jet down her throat. Hell, my resistance is non-existent as I stand here thrusting into her mouth only as deep as she’ll let me.

Her eyes find mine, blinking up at me when I jerk myself free. Still spellbound by the dark pools of lust, my breaths rush out in harsh erratic pants. The tease of her tongue sweeps out as if searching for my taste on her silken lips. Instinctively, my thumb presses against them, as if sealing the temptation away.

She nips at my finger, smiling around the tip before sucking it into her mouth. My cock kicks in frustration.

“Turn around,” I instruct.

Candi grunts when Xena releases her delicate flesh with a pop.

“Not on your knees,” I correct when she begins to turn over. “Stay on your back.”

Fuck if I don’t want both, but there’s no way I can resist the bounce of her tits. Also, I want to see her face. I want her to look into my eyes so she can understand that my dick inside of her is all that I want. She needs to understand that whatever incantation she’s been binding doesn’t work on the devil.

I feel more myself, more in control when I step back and grab a rubber out of the supply drawer near the door. I haven’t been in here in ages, but it’s nice to see a little consistency when everything else seems to be chaotic.

“Suck her nipples.” Xena obeys immediately, thirstily lapping at Candi’s pink tips as I line my dick up at her entrance.

Hoping she can’t see the rough swallow in my throat, I lock my eyes with hers as I ram forward. Weeks of agitation and frustration culminate into the only means I have to punish the beauty laid out before me.

Consequently, my punishment seems to be her pleasure. A depraved groan works its way out of her chest, and she digs her teeth into her lower lip. Immediately I can tell she’s fighting whatever this is between us too. She doesn’t want to want me, and she sure as fuck doesn’t want to need this.

The evidence is substantiated when she breaks our eye contact and looks to the side.

“Bite her,” I demand. “She likes it rough.”

Her eyes snap back to mine when Xena digs into her flesh with her teeth, and begrudgingly, I realize I missed her looking at me.

“Please,” she begs as her legs circle my waist in an attempt to pull me closer, force me deeper.

With one hand gripping Xena’s hair, Candi reaches for me with the other. I fight against the urgency in my own gut, safeguarding myself by inching back and alternately swiping my thumb over her swollen clit.

“More,” she demands.

Unbidden, my cock obeys her, thrusting deeper, harder, faster.

She detonates, exploding around me in a glorious fashion. She grips and pulses around me, her internal muscles rippling in orgasm.

I fuck her through it, refusing to give her a moment's reprieve to enjoy her release alone.

“Come for me.”

I almost laugh, almost smile down at her and tell her that she’s a demanding little thing, but I catch myself. I concentrate on her audacity to think for a second that I’m doing this for more than my own relief. She doesn’t command me. She doesn’t dictate my actions. She takes what I give, and doesn’t get to ask for more.

“Xena,” I grunt, pulling out of Candi so fast she gasps.

The condom is ripped off, and Xena is on her knees all in the same moment.

I combust, the first rope of cum striking Xena’s cheek before she can even wrap her lips around my cock.

Taking it in stride, the black-haired girl turns her vibrant blue eyes up at me as she swallows every drop.Chapter 20Candi

Lynch doesn’t look back at me as Xena gets to her feet and walks across the room to dispose of the condom he’d tossed to the floor. He simply zips up and walks out. My breaths are still uneven, and my heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of my chest.

I’m lying on the massage table in a billion little pieces, and he’s calm, reserved, and completely unaffected by what just took place. The differences in our needs couldn’t be more opposite. I’d give anything to have him wrap his arms around me, carry me to the shower, and wash me like he actually cares. He’s probably headed to the living room to watch TV with the guys and scope out his next fuck of the day.