Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)

“Fuckin’ know it, baby.”

Holy shit. For most, weeks without sex might not be a newsworthy event, but for Screw…

“Why?” She asked even though her body was screaming at her to shut up so he could fuck her. But she had to know. Because for him to act so out of character had to mean something, right?

He grabbed her ass, hiking her up into his arms with jerky movements. The head of his cock nudged her opening, making her moan and try to thrust her hips forward. But he held her captive. “You know why,” he said in a harsh whisper against her ear as he powered into her.

Jazz cried out at the sudden intrusion. Even as wet as she was, his girth made her need a second to adjust, but he didn’t give it to her.

Instead, he did exactly as she’d asked. He poured every ounce of stress, worry, pain, guilt, and agitation into fucking her.

He pumped hard, thrusting with abandon over and over. He buried his face into her neck, small grunts getting lost in her skin with each animalistic jerk of his hips. For her part, Jazz held him tight, absorbing his aggression. Her back ground into the wall so hard, there’d be bruises on her spine and shoulder blades tomorrow for sure, but damn if it wasn’t worth it, because the pleasure he was wringing from her overrode any and all discomfort.

“Yes, Luke,” she shouted as he tightened his grip on her ass.

She was completely naked while he remained fully dressed. Something about the feel of his pants scratching her thighs made her pussy clench. Maybe it was knowing he wanted her so bad, he couldn’t even get his clothes off.

The room blurred and her mind numbed to everything but the incredible feelings of Screw unleashing his emotion powered lust on her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered a sound, but not enough to give it even a second of her brain power. There were far too many pleasurable sensations to focus on.

“Fuck, baby, you meant it, didn’t you?”

Meant she wanted all of him?

“Yes, yes, yes.”

She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his strokes increased in strength, hitting something inside her that had her shouting his name.

And then it was…gone.

Every single sensation disappeared.

Jazz’s feet hit the ground with a thud. Her legs buckled, forcing her to reach for Screw.

But he was gone.

Slamming her knees back to keep from falling, she gained control of her legs. “Wha—”

Oh, shit.

Across the kitchen, Screw had Gumby jammed up against the wall, his forearm crushing their lover’s windpipe. His dick was still out, wet from their fucking and semi hard, but he seemed to have lost all desire for sex as he growled.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Naked and with arousal coating her thighs, Jazz slowly walked over to the two men she was head over heels in love with. “Screw. It’s too much. You’re hurting him.”

Gumby’s face turned a light shade of purple, but he didn’t struggle. Instead, he held Screw’s gaze, calm as could be.

Her words must have gotten through at least a little because he let up enough for Gumby to breathe and begin to speak. But his words were immediately cut off by another growl from Screw.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

HE MUST BE one sick puppy because neither the pissed off man, lack of oxygen, nor pain across his neck did anything to deflate the hard-on Gumby had gotten at the sight of Screw and Jazz’s animalistic fucking.

“Screw,” Jazz said for the second time. She lifted her hands, placing them on the man’s arm where it crushed across his throat.

Finally, the pressure evaporated. Gumby sucked in a giant gulp of air but didn’t move or try to shove Screw away. Instead, he stayed, flattened against the wall, his dick now a spike in his pants.

“Why?” Screw asked in a voice laden with agony and torment.

“Because I had to.” His voice sounded scratchy from the choking, but there was no pain. The truth of his simple statement seemed to be good enough to have Screw backing off. More words would probably help, but they’d probably send the other man running. Hell, they’d probably send Gumby running. Yet they hovered there on the tip of his tongue.

You’ve changed me.

I’ve never felt like this.

I had to make sure the mission succeeded.

I’d do anything to help you and your club.

I couldn’t lose either of you.

I love you…

Both of you.

“I’m sorry,” Screw said with a shake of his head. “I was just so fucking…” Another head shake. Another man who couldn’t put voice to his feelings.

Gumby nodded. The apology wasn’t necessary. He’d flip his shit if either of them purposefully put themselves in danger as well. He got it. He took one step from the wall, then kissed Screw. It was a soft meeting of lips, so contrary to the volcanic emotions swirling just beneath the surface of his skin.