It might give out, and I didn't care. Hell, I couldn't focus on anything except the lighting building around his cock, my pussy coiling around him, just a few more thrusts from sweet release.
I love this life when we're in bed.
I love this dick.
I love you, Asphalt.
A long, uninterrupted growl poured out his mouth. Long, punishing strokes filled me over and over again, so hard, so loving, he shook my entire body. My breasts swung beneath me, and he reached between my legs, found my clit, and added that miracle thumb to the maelstrom of his cock.
“I'm telling you now, and I'm telling you a thousand times, Elle Jo,” he said, his voice starting to crackle like static from the pleasure ripping through him. “You. Are. Mine. Every last atom of shit that ever makes you doubt it? Gone. Now and fucking forever. And you'll know it when you pass the fuck out from coming on my cock.”
I lost it then. We lost it together.
My pussy clenched his cock so hard I screamed. I came, feeling him stiffen, sputter, and add his heat to mine. Asphalt's seed pumped deep and hot, filled me until I overflowed.
We'd fused our love and hate. Maybe we fucked it away too, a healing fuck, just like he'd said. When he pulled out, he was still hard. He flopped on the cot and pulled me on top of him.
For the first time, I rode him with everything as his wife, his old lady, rather than the bitch keeping secrets.
“Fuck, babe, fuck! Just like that. Don't you stop for all the diamonds in the world, all the blood in the ocean. Love you from the tips of your toes to your ears, and everything in between. Really fucking love this pussy, too, and I'm gonna find out how much come she can take.”
The second time I came, impaled on his cock, I couldn't even scream his name. I was too busy smiling, breathless and happy, numb to everything except this beautiful moment with my outlaw husband.
There'd always be more out there, waiting to hurt me. It could wait. We were too busy reconnecting, or maybe connecting for the first time.
He fucked me like the big, powerful, unstoppable badass he was, but I'd gotten a little of his spark. Nothing was keeping me from his flesh tonight. He'd ripped me wide open with soft, honest words and furious kisses.
I might bleed out and die a little before dawn, but I'd never die alone, without love.
Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever again.
A couple days passed. Asphalt practically kept me under lock and key, bringing me food and fresh clothes, telling me to sleep. I spent so many hours in the cot I didn't know how I'd ever sleep again.
I left my room and walked into the empty bar, looking for something sweet and powerful to drown my worries for the next few hours. Looking at the selection made me wrinkle my nose.
These boys rarely drank anything except straight whiskey and thick, dark beers. Not exactly my style. The clubhouse hadn't been restocked in some time, which told me just how obsessed daddy and his guys had really been about going after the Chinese.
I passed on alcohol and chose a tall glass of water instead. It wouldn't make me feel better, but at least it would keep me healthy.
“Elle Jo?” A voice said behind me. “Package.”
I turned around to see the prospect, Carbon, holding out a small cardboard box. I took it, feeling the confusion twist my face. Holding the lightweight box, I gave it a little shake.
“Who's it from?” I asked, turning it over. There wasn't any return address.
Carbon had gone behind the bar to dig around, coming up with a grin when he found half a bottle of Jack. “Huh? Oh, don't have a fucking clue. Found it stuffed outside in the club's big locked box for deliveries this morning. Nobody gets in there without a key except the mailman, so it's gotta be somebody who knows you.”
“Hm.” I reached over to the bar counter, where I'd seen a pair of scissors, and began slicing off the tape.
A strange odor hit me in the face as soon as I pulled back the flaps. The top was stuffed with a scrappy piece of paper smeared with red ink.
It took me a minute to realize what I was seeing.
“Jesus Christ!” Before Carbon could even stop sucking on his whiskey, I realized it wasn't red ink.
Blood formed blocky, messy letters meant for Blackjack, and for me.
GO FUCK YOURSELVES. NO TIME TO TALK. ONE CUT AT A TIME MAKES A DEAD MAN.
ZEE
I never should've let my hand wander into the box, searching underneath the paper. When I found what was making that stink I'd smelled before, the whole world started spinning.
My fingers gripped something cold, soft, and pliant. Fingers slipped through mine, stiff as plastic. I pulled it up and screamed, all I could do before I slid off the bar stool and hit the floor.
“Babe? Fuck, baby, wake up!” Asphalt kneeled on the floor, shaking me.
I opened my eyes and saw half the club standing around me, a mixture of bewilderment and rage on their faces.