Badd motherf cker, p.10
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       Badd Motherf*cker, p.10

         Part #1 of Badd Brothers series by Jasinda Wilder
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  I didn't want to leave. I wanted more with Sebastian. I wanted him, full stop. It was foolish, probably. I'd only end up being hurt worse than ever, left to crawl back to Daddy in Seattle and try to rebuild the shattered ruins of my fucked-up life. Staying was a risk. And for what? A few minutes of feeling good in Sebastian Badd's strong arms?

  Fuck yes. Exactly for that. Because those few minutes promised to be...shit, better than anything I'd ever experienced. I just knew that's what it would be. Life-changing, earth-shattering sex. And goddammit, but I wanted that. I wanted it bad.

  But was I really willing to risk getting all attached to Sebastian because of how good the fucking was, only to have him send me packing once he'd had his fill of me? Because if what I'd had with Michael hadn't been good enough for him to stay faithful, then what were the chances a man like Sebastian would find me satisfying? I mean, he was a god. Beyond gorgeous, tough, rough, dominant, skilled at sex, ran his own bar, had women so desperate for a second round with his cock that they were willing to do anything to get it, even blow him in the alley just for a chance to have more with him. And here was me, who couldn't even get a boring regular old Joe like Michael to remain faithful.

  Yeah, good luck. But something inside me insisted I give him a shot. Because it would be that good. It would be worth the risk.

  I tried to put it out of my mind for a while.

  I read, scrolled through social media on my phone, checked the news apps, read some more. Managed to crash again, even though I'd slept most of the day already.

  I woke up with dim gray light filtering in though the windows. My phone was dead, so I had no idea what time it was, but my guess would have been around seven or eight in the morning.

  And my first thought was Sebastian.

  I wanted him. I knew it was likely to end badly, but some crazy, impulsive drive inside me was telling me to go for it. That I couldn't let Michael wreck my life, or force me to put up even higher walls than I already had. I couldn't let Michael's betrayal turn me into a coward, into someone too scared to go after what she wanted. And I wanted Sebastian. I had no clue what it would look like, how it would go, how it would end, or if my heart would survive the experience, but I was willing to take a chance. I had to.

  Fuck it.

  I shoved open the door of the cabin, ducked out, slammed the door behind me, and jogged through the downpour back across the street. I opened the door to the bar, but found it empty. The lights were all off, and the door to the stairs leading up to the apartment was open, so I figured he must be up there, probably sleeping since it was still early morning.

  I found Zane crashed on the couch looking sleepy but watching the news on TV. He blinked at me, and then jerked a thumb at the hallway. "His room's the one at the very end."

  Sebastian's door was closed but not latched, so I went in. He had a king size bed with a simple metal railing headboard and footboard, with messy flannel sheets and a thick fleece blanket. A dresser with six drawers, one of them open, a T-shirt hanging half out, a dish on top containing a handful of change, a Leatherman multitool, and an old silver watch. Underwear on the floor, a pair of jeans. An old, battered Taylor acoustic guitar in the corner sitting on the wide bottom, a pick in the strings on the neck. A pair of Timberland boots, well worn. A wool pea coat hanging off the open door of the closet, looking like it had been hanging there on the open door since the end of last winter. Nothing on the walls, no alarm clock, no phone cord or radio or anything, nothing electronic at all, as a matter of fact. The only things on the nightstand table next to the bed were a litre bottle of water and a small framed black and white photo of a woman, who I assumed was his mother, standing next to a man who I assumed was his father.

  No Sebastian, though.

  The bathroom door was slightly ajar, and I peeked in, got a glimpse in the mirror of Sebastian standing facing the toilet.

  Legs spread wide apart, head ducked, shoulders heaving. Jeans tugged down around his thighs to bare a taut, muscular ass with a dusting of dark hair. One of his hands was braced on the wall in front of his face, his arm straightened to hold up his weight, and the other was in front of his body. He was rigid, his ass flexed forward. His arm was moving back and forth slowly.

  "Fuck..." he groaned, his voice low and snarling.

  And unexpected. I jumped when he growled that curse word, caught spying on him. Watching him masturbate.

  "Dru...fuck--" he rumbled.

  He was jerking off thinking about me? My heart hammered, my gut twisted, my hands shook, and my core heated.

  I couldn't look away. Absolutely could not.

  I moved slightly, adjusting my angle so now instead of seeing just his back, I could see more of his profile in the mirror. His fist sliding up and down his huge, hard length. And I do mean huge and hard.

  I watched as he stroked himself, and felt heat billow through me, felt wetness seep into my panties. He didn't hurry, just stroked himself slowly and leisurely, taking his time. After a couple minutes of slow stroking, his hips started to flex back and forth, and his breath started to huff past gritted teeth, and his fist started to move a little faster.

  He hadn't seen me; his eyes were shut tight, his jaw clenched as his fist flew faster and faster.

  And then he stopped. His eyes flicked open, and he reached out, pumped a handful of lotion into his palm, smeared it on his cock, and began stroking again, starting slowly and working quickly back up to speed.

  "Dru...god, Dru..."

  My heart hammered every time he said my name, and my core dripped desire at the sight of his big hand sliding up and down his huge, hard cock. I pictured my own hand on him, stroking him...I'd need both hands, and could probably only fit a little bit into my mouth.

  But then he glanced in the mirror, and saw me.

  "See something you like, Dru?" he said, his voice a growling bass murmur.

  "Yes," I heard myself say. "Don't stop."

  He resumed stroking his cock, but didn't take his eyes off mine in the mirror. "Come in here." I pushed open the door enough to slip through, and then closed it behind me. Sebastian used his free hand to shove aside the shower curtain. "Sit."

  I sat on the edge of the tub, trembling, inches away from him. Inches away from his thick cock. I stared up at him, trying to look more daring than I felt.

  "Why're you here, Dru?" he asked, his fist not stopping, still sliding slowly along his shaft.

  "I--I want to forget, Sebastian. I just--I just want to forget. Like you said. Feel good for awhile."

  "Gonna freak out on me again?"

  I shrugged. "Probably."

  He smirked. "Fair enough." He glanced down at himself, and we both watched him stroking his dick. "You like to watch?"

  "I've never watched--this, before. Never watched anyone do this."

  "Never had anybody watch before either."

  I licked my lips, glanced from his eyes to his cock. "Keep going."

  So he did.

  His fist slid up and down, slowly, leisurely, the lotion squelching wetly with each stroke. Then he started to jerk, going faster, and his jaw clenched, and his molars began to flex and pulse as he ground his cock into his flying fist.

  I ached.

  My hands, folded on my lap, twitched to touch him.

  His eyes closed momentarily, then flew back open and pinned me. "Touch me, Dru. Help me finish. It's your fault I'm this hard."

  I reached out, hesitated with my fingers a hair's breadth from his shaft, and then I closed my hand around him. God, so thick, so soft, yet so iron-hard. I glided my hand up to the head and all the way down, my fist sliding slickly over the lotion. We both had a hand on his cock, now, his below mine. We stroked him together, faster and faster.

  "Fuck--Dru, your hand feels so good around my cock."

  "Your cock is amazing, Sebastian." I grinned up at him. "I guess I was right the other night, huh?"

  "Guess so," he grunted, and his hips began to thrust.

; I worked him faster, and his hand fell away, so it was only mine on his flesh. I cupped his ass with my other hand, and set a quick fluttering rhythm of strokes on his throbbing cock. Harder, faster.

  God, how long could he hold out?

  He started grunting, low under his breath. Glanced at me. "Gonna come, Dru."

  His beautiful cock pushed into my fist and his eyes pinned me and his abs tensed and flexed. I watched, rapt, as my small pale hand slid up and down his tan flesh, and then he froze, hips thrust forward.

  "Fuck...fuck, I'm coming, Dru. Watch me come."

  I tilted away from his body, cupped my palm under the tip of his cock and kept stroking him. He snarled, thrust his hips once more, and then he came with a low growl. His dick pulsed in my fist and come spurted out of him and into my palm, overflowing to drip down into the toilet, and then he grunted and thrust into my fist and came again, filling and over-filling my palm, again, and again, and I kept stroking him until he finally stopped growling and grunting and coming into my hand.

  "Jesus, you come a lot," I said, marveling at the unbelievable amount of come in my hand, dripping down between my fingers into the water below, coating my palm in wet hot white stickiness.

  "You got no fuckin' idea," he growled. "Wash your hands and get those clothes off."

  I shivered at the fierce potency in his voice. "Are you always this bossy?"

  He growled at me again. "Just had your hand on my cock, Dru. I need to eat your sweet cunt until you come on my tongue, and then when I'm hard again, I'm gonna fuck you six ways to Sunday. So if you don't do what I tell you, I'll do it for you."

  I stared at him, taking in the blaze of his brown eyes, the heaving of his chest, the droop of his dick. He stepped out of his jeans and underwear, peeled off his shirt, tossed them both on the floor, and stood naked in front of me. And holy shit, the man was ripped. Chiseled abs, bulging pecs, rippling biceps, and all that incredible ink stretching from wrist to wrist and shoulder to shoulder. The V, god yes, the V-cut. And his cock, even going limp--only momentarily, it seemed--was impressive. Fully erect it had been the hugest thing I'd ever seen, thicker and longer than any cock in my experience, and just perfectly straight and so beautiful...and so big he'd stretch me to burning, I was sure.

  I shivered at the thought.

  And apparently I didn't move fast enough for him, because Sebastian snagged my wrist, turned on the faucet, rinsed his come off my hand, dried it with a towel, and then jerked open the bathroom door and hauled me out into his bedroom. Kicked that door closed, then spun around to face me with his hand on the lock.

  "You wanna leave? Now's the time, sweet thing. I'm gonna lock this door, and I'm not letting you out until you beg for mercy."

  I lifted my chin. "I don't want to leave."

  I didn't, really I didn't. But the look in his eyes was feral. I was starting to wonder if my idea of getting a few orgasms out of this guy and then going back to Seattle unscathed had just maybe been a little unrealistic. He looked ravenous, as if he were seconds from pouncing on me and devouring me.

  I'd never been devoured before. Hell, I'd never even been looked at like that before.

  He grabbed a handful of my sweatshirt, tugged the hood over my head, and then yanked the hoodie off. Tossed it aside. Jerked my T-shirt off, and then my bra. Ruthlessly, efficiently. Then he ripped open my jeans and shoved them down along with my underwear, and when I stepped out of them, I was naked. The whole process had taken less than thirty seconds.

  He wrapped his hands around my waist, and for a moment he was soft and tender, staring down at me with those big brown grizzly bear eyes gone affectionate and appreciative. It lasted for as long as he was staring into my eyes, and then his gaze flicked downward, took in my breasts, my belly, my core...

  And his grip on my waist tightened.

  "Not a sound, Dru. Yeah?"

  I nodded, and that was when the world as I knew it ended.

  He lifted me up by my waist and tossed me backward onto his bed, a casual, easy movement that sent me flying across the room to bounce once, and then he caught me in his arms on the second bounce and was all over me, skin pressed to skin, his mouth on my neck, lips kissing and sucking, teeth nipping, tongue licking. He moved his way down to my breasts, and he lapped at them, suckled my rigid, sensitive nipple into his mouth and sawed his teeth across it, eliciting a moan from me. I didn't have time to even process how I'd gotten on the bed yet, and he was flicking my nipples and biting them just a little too hard, and then he was grazing his mouth down my belly, flicking his tongue into my belly button in a way that had me fighting the urge to squeal, and then he was off of me, off the bed. He wrapped his hands around my ankles and yanked me to the edge of the bed, shoved my legs open, and dove in.

  "Jesus, Sebastian, slow down!" I gasped.

  "No." He growled the one-word answer.

  "But I--oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ohhhhhh--ffffffuuuuuck!" A shock of utter bliss drew the word out of me, elongated each consonant, each vowel, each syllable, his mouth closing around my clit, tongue flicking madly, lips creating suction, and then he slid two fingers into my slit and I couldn't help a gasp from leaving my lips as he scissored his fingers and then curled them inside me to find my G-spot as if he had some kind of radar or divining rod for finding that spot inside me.

  Two licks, two fingers, and I was gone.

  I spasmed off the bed, biting down on my lip to keep silent, and then he swirled his tongue around my clit and I lost it, bucked under him, coming within a record short amount of time.

  "God, Dru, you come so easy," Sebastian breathed, his voice buzzing against my slit. "Gimme another one. Let me feel this pussy squeeze me again."

  He added a third finger, and his mouth went back to my pussy and circled my clit, and I'd never in my life come more than once in a single session even on my own, much less before penetration had even occurred, yet there I was hovering on the edge of a second one already.

  "Pinch your nipples. Make it hurt."

  I had to obey. I couldn't explain it, the effect his commands had on me. I wasn't a take-orders-easily girl, but something about the way Sebastian growled his orders hit some instinctual nerve inside me and had me obeying him automatically. Had me wanting--no, needing--to obey him.

  I squeezed both nipples, rolled the erect buttons between fingers and thumbs until heat seared through me at the exquisite sensation.

  "Harder," he snarled. "I said make it hurt."

  So I pinched my nipples hard enough that a whimper left my lips, but the pain turned instantly into something else as his thick fingers worked in and out of me and his tongue and lips scoured my clit and labia.

  And then I felt a sharp sting just outside my outer labia, in the crease where pussy met thigh, and my eyes flicked open to see Sebastian moving back to licking my clit. I leaned forward, pulled at the skin, and saw that he'd left a big, dark love bite there.

  "You...gave me a...a hickey--" I demanded, between barely-suppressed gasps of pleasure, "on my pussy?"

  He glanced up at me across my body, and his smile wasn't sweet or kind or affectionate, but wild and fierce. He bent closer to my core, pulled my thigh aside and pressed his lips to the same spot on the opposite side, and I felt the nip of his teeth and the suction of his tongue and lips in a sharp sting, and then he pulled away, leaving another hickey.

  "Mine." His tone brooked no disagreement, and his hands on my body left no room for argument.

  His? Fuck, there was no way I'd survive that.

  But then thoughts were eradicated as he went back to driving my orgasm out of me.

  Didn't take him long.

  I felt it boiling, and this time I didn't need his command for my fingers to find my nipples and pinch them hard, and then heat and tension were blasting through me and washing over me, and I was seeing stars, darkness rippling across my vision as I arched up off the bed. His hands were under my ass, lifting me off the bed, holding me against his mouth as he licked and sucke
d me through the orgasm, and then set me down and his tongue kept going, wet and warm and insistent and hungry, sliding down my slit to lick at the seeping juices of my desire.

  When he'd lapped me clean, he finally crawled up my body and onto the bed, hauled me to the pillows, once again manhandling me as if I weighed nothing, as if I was his to do with as he wished.

  And I was, wasn't I? I'd put myself in his hands, let him lock the door behind us, and now I was naked, flush with two intense orgasms, and not even remotely sated.

  I expected him to demand I return the favor, suck him to hardness again, but instead he lay against the pillows on his side, pulled me to him and wrapped me up in his arms. Both arms went around me like steel bands, crushing me against his body. I smelled him, felt him, felt his heat and the softness of his skin...

  And then he cupped my face and tilted my mouth to his and kissed me.




  He fucked me with his mouth as intimately and deliriously as he was going to fuck my pussy. I moaned, because how could I not? His tongue was plundering the cavity of my mouth, tangling with my tongue and tracing my teeth, and I was safe and warm locked in his powerful arms. He had one hand on my cheek, fingers brushing past my ear and his thumb under my jaw, directing the kiss, and his other arm was tucked under the hollow where my hip dipped in to my waist, and his hand was splayed across my ass, fingers dimpling the flesh, clutching, pawing, kneading, exploring the expanse and curve of each globe in turn. And god, why was that simple touch so fucking erotic? All he was doing was caressing my ass, but it sent thrills through me, made my hips push against his body, forced my thighs to open and accept his leg between them in a poor excuse for what I really wanted: his cock, erect and inside me.

  But he was in no hurry.

  He kissed me with artistry and passion, cupping my face and exploring my ass at the same time. How long did we lay there, on his bed, wrapped up in each other, just kissing? I had no idea. Forever. All day. All night. Or maybe just a few minutes. Not long enough, surely. His kiss was intoxicating, his touch like fire on my skin.

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