Page 70 of Deviants
“Rome, hurry up.” I pushed back at him, arousal making my pussy clench when his onyx hues looked into mine. “Can you take your shirt off?”
His pristine grin was full of devilry, disappearing as he pulled his bloody T-shirt off and let it drop to the floor. I drank in his wildly inked body, wishing I was facing the other way so I could stroke the wicked looking skull.
He eased behind me, smearing his bloody fist up and down his dick before spreading my ass cheeks apart and shoving inside with no warning. The immediate pressure was overwhelming. I was so full of him, I thought I was going to rip in half.
I choked on a scream, grabbing the desk to brace myself. He grabbed hold of my throat to keep me upright; his other hand lifted my leg and hooked it over his arm, leaving me to balance on one.
He pummeled me. His dick drove into my ass like it had committed a crime against him and this was punishment. The blood quickly lost its slickness and all I felt was every solid inch of him thrusting in and out. It hurt in a beautiful agonizing way, a way only he had ever made me feel.
“Fuck, Rome!” I gripped his wrists so hard my nails dug in.
“Say it again,” he breathed in my ear, kissing down my neck.
“Romero,” I moaned, as he picked up his pace, leaving me a quivering, screaming mess.
“Play with my pussy, baby. Touch what belongs to me.”
My hand immediately flew between my spread legs. It was a miracle I could concentrate. I fucked myself with my fingers while he dominated my ass.
“You feel so fucking good. This will always be mine,” he growled, biting down on my shoulder and bottoming out.
“Yours, all yours,” I agreed, feeling heat gathering in my core.
His grip on my throat tightened, and he dug his fingers into my thigh. I felt his solid abs against my back. I moved my fingers to my clit, rolling it in a circular motion. “Holy shit, Romero! I’m––”
I grabbed hold of his wrists with my hands, unintelligible words poured from my mouth, mixed in with a barrage of unrestrained moans.
I saw colors I didn’t even know existed.
It felt so good, I started crying while I was coming.
“Cali.” I heard him laugh and opened my eyes.
I was leaning my head back against his chest, missing the part where he came and it was now running down my ass crack. He stood me up and kept his arms around my waist.
Slowly turning in his arms, I laid my cheek on his damp chest and shut my eyes. When I finally looked up at him, I placed a soft kiss on his lips.
Being in his arms brought back the things in my head I’d temporarily pushed aside. I needed to process all it meant and ask a question I already knew the answer to, because it made too much sense. First thing first, though; I needed to get out of damn Jericho.
“You ready to burn a church down?”
His soft laugh was the only response I needed.
We watched the church burn together. Jonah and the delegates burned with it.
His broken body was secured by the padlocks on the front door. The roof groaned and shifted as parts of the old building caved in. Flames reached into the darkened sky as our sign of victory. We had no lead on the other bishop or David, but this was still a pretty big deal.
“Romero, who is your real father?”
I kept my eyes trained straight ahead. I didn’t think he was going to answer me.
“David made me, but that pathetic piece of shit will never be my father. Or yours.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Grimm shift beside him, uncomfortably.
That had me turning my head to meet his stare. “Brock is.”
What?
