Up in Smoke (King #8)

My entire body stiffens. I’m as rigid as a corpse.

Smoke chuckles against me, and I’m glad I’m facing away because his laugh is pure torture, causing his erection to vibrate against my folds which are aching for more contact.

“You will be punished, hellion. You can be sure of that.”

I look over my shoulder and meet his dark eyes which darken even further as his pupils dilate. His lingering gaze rakes me over from my feet to my breasts and back down to the space between my thighs. He licks his full bottom lip.

My stomach flips. My will to fight him off doesn’t waiver, but my body isn’t getting the message. My core clenches again. I turn back around to face the tile, digging my teeth into my lower lip until I taste my own blood.

His chest presses against my back, and his hardness pulses between my legs, rubbing against my inner thighs. He squirts some shampoo in his hand, working it into my hair. He tilts my head back and rinses my hair, then slides his slick and soapy hand down my body.

I’m breathing rapidly now. Short, quick breaths I can’t control. There’s a deep rumble in his throat. His hand travels lower and lower on my stomach until it’s between my legs, and he’s working his thumb over my swollen nub, sending sparks of need, pangs of pleasure, and a wave of self-hatred, surging within my battered body and bruised soul.

“What…what are you doing?” I ask, seeing flashes of white hot lust behind my closed eyes.

“More questions…” his voice a hearty amused rasp. His fingers circle my clit while he continues to rock his hard cock between my legs. The pressure building is so strong it borders on painful.

Tears leak from my eyes. I’m so fucking mad at myself for being turned on. For Smoke being right. I’m so wet. He feels it. There’s no way he can’t feel it.

He leans in close. I’m stone still except for the tremors gripping my body. He licks the tear off my cheek and groans. He dips the tip of his finger inside of me, and I tighten around the intrusion. It’s a foreign sensation. Strange. It feels both wrong and right. Pleasurable and painful. “Your tight little pussy is weeping too. I wonder if its tears taste the same.”

I look over my shoulder as he withdraws his finger and sucks it into his mouth. He groans. “Fear or desire. They both taste real fuckin’ good to me.”

He places his hand back between my legs. When I try to squeeze my thighs together to keep him out, he parts them with his knee on a grunt and begins circling my clit again. This time harder. Faster.

I’m staying as still as I can, but when I feel something begin to happen inside my body. The sparks he ignited within me all crashing together. I can’t hold back. My face scrunches as I try to fight the orgasm fighting its way out, but it’s no use. I can’t fight it. It’s too fucking strong. I’m so fucking close.

I arch my back without thinking, pressing my ass against him, begging for more. For what I need to push me over the edge.

Smoke hisses. “Oh, what I could do to this beautiful little pussy.”

The pleasure builds and builds as he strokes me harder. Faster. I’m about to come all over his fingers when the feeling is lost.

I spin around.

Smoke is gone.

I can’t see through the steam so I shut off the spray and wipe the water from my eyes only to see Smoke toweling off in front of the sink on the other side of the bathroom.

The only proof I have of what just happened between us was real is his cock. Erect. Thick. Huge. The purplish swollen head bobs against his abs, jutting out over the top of the towel he wraps around his waist.

“What…what just happened?” I stammer, leaning back against the wall for support.

Smoke steps forward, and when I go to jerk back, he reaches out and pinches my nipple painfully hard. I yelp and leap back, slipping on the tile, falling on my ass, taking the shower curtain down with me.

Smoke rips the curtain off my head and glares down at me with a triumphant grin on his evil beautiful face. “What just happened was called punishment and you got off easy. Next time, I’ll split that tight pussy in two with my fucking cock.”

He goes to leave but stops. “You want pain?” he asks. “I’ll give it to you. You want pleasure? Now, that’s something you’re gonna have to earn.”

He leaves, slamming the door behind him.

I release a shaky exhale.

I’d hoped the rest of my time with Smoke would be tolerable, but there’s no fucking way that’s going to happen. Not now. Not with my skin crawling with need. I’m losing my mind. About where I am. About what this is all about. About this beautiful horrible evil man.

I feel like I’ve already been split in two.

What Smoke did to me was far more than a punishment.

It was pure fucking torture.





Chapter Twenty-Four





Trouble ain’t nothing new for me. I’ve been in trouble before. With the law. With women. With the men I’ve done jobs for. Name the trouble, and I guaran-fuckin’-tee I’ve been mixed up in it a time or twenty.

Frankie Helburn is a whole new level of trouble.

One my gut, my brain, and my cock can’t quite fuckin’ agree on.

Her fucking brazenness. Her audacity. The way she challenges me. Stands up to me like I couldn’t crush her with a single blow.

Then, there’s the way she looks at me like she wants to claw my fucking eyes out.

God fucking damn it.

I’m hard just thinking about it.

She was so wet I could feel it leaking from her even though we were in the shower. How fucking sweet she tasted.

How she was hiding that tiny waist, full tits, and epic ass underneath that baggy school girl uniform is a mystery. Now that I’ve seen her curves in all their glory, I can’t ever unsee them.

Even battered and bruised the bitch was beautiful and I don’t think I’ve ever thought about a bitch as being beautiful before. Hot? Sure. Sexy? Sure. Stacked? Sure. Down to fuck? Sure.

Beautiful?

Just Frankie.

I left Frankie alone in the bedroom un-cuffed so she can get dressed. Ain’t no way she’s escaping again. I’ve taken care of that pet door and bolted it shut.

I’m on the porch waiting for the babysitter Preppy texted and told me would be here shortly. I expect he sent his kid brother who’s been working with him for a while now, or one of Bear’s prospects from the Lawless MC.

That’s not who shows up.

A familiar high-pitched sound starts in the distance, and my swollen cock and Frankie are temporarily forgotten. The sound is coming from a small motor. One I’ve worked on before. A wheeze more than a roar. It grows louder and louder, and I know who’s coming long before the baby blue Vespa pulls up the dirt path and parks with a dramatic skid in the middle of the grass.

“Fuck,” I swear, shrugging on my cut.

I light a smoke and walk out to greet someone I never thought I’d see again. Someone I’ve made a mission out of avoiding. My one-time partner and friend.

Rage.