Quinn II (Undaunted Men #2) (15 page)

“I know what you like, what you need, don’t I?”

“Yes. Yes, you do,” I whisper in a heated mess, being totally honest with him.

I can’t think of anything but what’s in the moment at hand. It’s as if I’m not capable of any introspection or negative thoughts. There is no dwelling on Quinn, no Kimber, no sadness in my mind; I’m simply living in the present, experiencing happiness in its purest form.

“You want to fly with me, baby?”

“Oh God, yes.” I would sell my soul to have him inside me. If this feeling is what it’s like to be on sex drugs, I don't ever want to come off of it. He holds his cock firmly in his hand and then rubs his tip against my opening.

“Spread your legs wider for me,” he implores. I do as he asks, eagerly wanting what he has to give. He teases me at first, throwing me into an alternate universe by running the length of slick cock back and forth over my clit. “Do you want my cock, Lex?” he grits out, almost as if he’s in pain, because I know he wants me.

By this point, I’m almost incoherent, so I nod my head. I move my hips to seek him out, but he doesn’t give me what I desire. When my eyes flutter open in question, all I see is passion swirling behind those beautiful eyes of his, and if I’m not mistaken, a bit of desperation.

“How bad do you want my dick?” he taunts, his eyes narrowing, almost daring me to screw up his little game. He pumps his hips into me, running his hard shaft over my clit again, giving me a taste of what’s to come, and I tremble. I’m beginning to sweat with need.

“Vince.” I swallow hard as I grip his rock-like biceps, forcefully squeezing them with all my strength. “I need your dick inside me, now,” I tell him in an almost panicky voice.

He lifts his lips into a sexy smirk, and I smile in relief, knowing he will deliver. My heart beats a mile a minute the second I feel the head of his cock nudging my folds open. Slowly, tortuously, he takes his time stretching me open as my sex encompasses his thickness.

“Is this what you want, Sweetheart?”

Overly stimulated, my heart pounds in my ears, but I don’t hold back my answer this time. I can’t have him stop. “Yes, Vince.”

He thrusts forward, giving me everything he knows I’m craving, burying himself deep until he can go no farther. I arch my back and cry out in pleasure as he circles his hips, rubbing his pelvis against my bud.

I feel as if I’m having a nonstop orgasm from head to toe. It’s unending and all-consuming. I'm vibrating with pure bliss from every cell of my being.

“Does my dick feel better than your fuck-buddy’s? Quinn’s?” he asks, his tone taking on a tinge of jealousy.

Being so elated and happy, I’m unable to be put in a foul mood by his remark; it’s impossible. I don’t hesitate to tell him the truth. “Oh, my God…yes! Everything feels better, your kisses, your touch, your body…how could you even question that?” Every physical sensation is enhanced beyond measure. Even my perception of intimacy is altered, to the point where I feel an emotional connection on a deeper level, bonding with Vince.

As if he can sense our connection, his eyes turn stormy with renewed hunger. Licking my lips, savoring the remnant flavor from his kisses, I tell him, “You taste like heaven.”

Turned on, he crashes his mouth over mine, his tongue plunging forward. There’s a unique cadence going on between the thrusts of his hips, tongue, and the music. “I’m gonna cum, are you close?” he whispers.

Oddly, I’m in the preverbal cycle of ecstasy. I don’t need to have an explosive orgasm. I feel as if I’m already living inside one. I shake my head, and he slows his pace. “It’s all right,” I tell him, assuring him I’m fine.

“Hang on.” He reaches behind my head, fumbling for something on the nightstand. His rich scent floods my senses, a burning need taking over to lick and nip the muscled ridges along the side of his neck as he stretches himself over me. “Holy shit, woman,” he hisses. “I’m trying not to come.” I giggle at his frustration.
 

When he finishes fumbling for whatever he was searching for, he eyes me with a devious grin. “What are you up to, Mister?” I tease. He arches a brow, holding a small vibrator wand in front of me, and then clicks it on. “Oh…” I exhale wantonly.

He remains deep inside me, pushing my knees toward my head as he instructs, “Hold your legs back for me.” I do as he asks, my juices flowing over his cock just from the sight of him and the anticipation of what’s to come.

I feel his cock pulsate at this angle, and I squeeze my inner muscles around his throbbing length, reveling in the full feeling. With the flick of a switch, the vibrator hums, coming to life. He gives me a smoldering look that speaks volumes, and I can honestly say, I don’t ever remember seeing Vince this adrenalized.

“You’re about to have the orgasm of your life,” he says, impassioned. The second he places the wand over my clit, I scream out loud at the top of my lungs. The sensation is so extreme my entire body vibrates with untold euphoria.
 

“You’ve always belonged with me,” he grates out. A sheen of sweat has formed along the ridges of his neck, highlighting his straining muscles.

He gyrates his hips into mine, as he swirls the vibrator over my sensitive bud, claiming every part of my body and soul. “Ever since we were little, I knew we belonged together.” I can’t seem to really focus on what he’s saying, I’m in stimulation overload in a cataclysmic climax. He perceives this and removes the vibrator, thereby gaining my full attention. I’m panting heavily, somewhat thankful for the reprieve. My body, however, is having serious withdrawal issues. I whimper, wanting to go back to the nonstop orgasm.

“Do you love me?” he asks in the most heartfelt voice.
 

Holding onto his arms, thrusting my hips into his, I smile up at him. “Of course I do.”

“Say it,” he gently demands, holding back his touch. And here is where I realize the profoundness of his game, but I’m too far out of my element to care.

“I love you, Vince.” I need his touch like I need my next breath. No, scratch that; I need the connection with him, or I feel like I will surely die. It’s no wonder people get addicted to drugs such as these. The feeling is a constant euphoria, giving me the most amazing sexual encounter of my life.

He rewards me with the vibrator, tracing little circles around my clit. I move my hips, desperately trying to seek contact where I want it most.
 

“Is this what you’re after?” he rasps as he continues to pass over my clit, not holding it any one place for long. He thrusts forward, his hips slamming into mine. I moan out loud. I’m on the verge of a different kind of orgasm, I feel it developing deep inside me. “Answer me, Baby.”

I thrash my head from side to side, breathing heavily, managing to appease him as I cry out, “Yes!”

He rewards me with the vibrator on my clit, applying firm pressure, and I begin to freak out. I start screaming in complete and utter ecstasy, yelling and crying out his name.

I grab and twist at anything my hands can get ahold of, and then I find his back. I rake my fingernails over his shoulder blades, digging into his skin so hard I think I broke skin. He curses under his breath, but he takes what I give him. My core quakes, rippling and squeezing his cock. It's the most profound experience I believe I've ever had in my entire life, and the orgasm feels as if it’s lasting forever.

Nothing can compare to having sex on this drug. It amplifies positive emotions and feelings, and physically makes everything feel good—perfect,
actually. In the state of mind I'm in, there are no consequences lurking in the back of my mind, just instant gratification.

I wake up to my head throbbing. It's the worst damn headache I've had in ages, and I know it's not from being pistol-whipped in the back of my head. This is a different kind of headache, and it's from the second round of drugs those bastards gave me to knock me out so they could transport me to wherever the hell I am now. Even the quiet room hurts my head, but I refuse to let myself moan out loud in pain. I won't give them the satisfaction.
 

I blink my eyes several times to clear the blurry haze and see that I'm in a basement of sorts. This isn't one of those barren basements; you know, the ones you see in mafia movies with one loan light bulb strung from the ceiling and a single chair in the middle of the room. This is a storage basement, with boxes strewn about. By the size of the room, I don't know if I'm in a small warehouse or at the bottom of a large estate. One box is labeled
Christmas
, which tells me this isn’t a big operation; it’s Vince’s operation.

Nevertheless, I'm in a basement with a concrete floor, and my back screams in protest against lying on the hard surface overnight. As I roll over to change positions, I quickly discover I'm tied up. Actually, my wrists are zip-tied, and my ankles are bound by thick rope.

I don't know what the hell I got myself into here. I shake the fog from my head so I can think clearly, but I already know none of this makes any sense.

I struggle to sit up, and then I position my back against the wall. It looks as if I'm in a separate room partitioned off from the rest of the basement by a door, and I am sure the bitch is locked.

I look up and notice two small windows that are only about ten inches tall and big enough to allow a little bit of light through, and possibly some airflow, but they're closed down tight from what I can tell. Judging from the bright light, it looks as if it could be mid-morning.
 

I never let myself cry, but right now, I’m all alone and locked inside my head. Thinking of the way Kimber went down yesterday hurts like a motherfucker. She gave of herself without hesitation in order to protect me. I force myself to swallow down the pain. A mixture of rage and anguish consume me, and all I want to do is let out a thunderous roar, but I have to stay focused.
 

I also have to pee like a damn racehorse. I refuse to piss myself; it’s not even an option. The cuffs cut into my wrists as I fight like hell to work my hands underneath the back of my legs to slip my feet through. Getting my hands in front of me, I struggle to my feet and side-shuffle, making my way over to a box in the corner. I work the box open then unzip my camo pants.
 

I let out a huge sigh of relief as I piss on somebody's Christmas decorations. I make sure to shake my dick, getting the last drop off before I tuck it away again. I close the box then shuffle back toward the wall. My head is throbbing, keeping in sync with every heartbeat as I take a step, making me wish I had some ibuprofen to cut the pain. I close my eyes in exhaustion, slide my body down to the floor, and groan. I'm getting too old for this shit.

I pat my pockets, and they prove to be empty. Even my watch has been stripped off me.
Fuckers.
I inspect the knots that bind my ankles together then get to work loosening them. I rework the ropes into fake knots to make it look like I'm still tied up then rest my head against the cement wall. I hold still and silent so I can listen. I’m hoping for some distinct sounds to gain a few clues as to where I might be. Maybe I’m in a neighborhood, or out in the country. I don't know.

I sit here and think while I listen in the quiet, which might be a bad idea, because when I think back over Lexi, my chest aches. Love was
ruthlessly torn from my hands, and the sting of betrayal runs bone-deep. The double whammy, of course, was losing Kimber. If I hadn’t been held at gunpoint by five men, I would’ve yanked Lexi out of Vince’s arms and taken her back anyway. We would’ve had a long-ass chat.

My gut clenches, remembering Lexi's conduct when she told me she was pregnant with Vince's baby. I have to force myself to question the validity of her statement, and not buy into her actions and words, because I'm sure that is exactly what Vince wants me to do. What the fuck is this all about anyway? Why did she go to Vince the way she did, wanting to double-cross me?

I need to keep my emotions in check and box them up, but it's hard to do when I'm left with nothing but my own thoughts. Everything I saw in her eyes when we were together felt so damn genuine. All her words, all that we shared in that short amount of time, I felt it.
 

When she admitted to drugging me, the amount of hostility that was projecting from her voice took me off guard. Then she said she planted a tracker in my sleeping bag so Vince and his men could find me. That admission made my blood boil over. I’m sure Vince didn’t want to get his precious princess caught in the crossfires if he and his men were to ambush me. Ever since that night, when Lexi was almost raped, however, I never really slept worth a shit. Between Kimber and me, we would’ve been ready for anything. There’s no way they could’ve taken us by surprise, because I never stopped expecting another attack or a trap.

The more I sit here and think about the scene of Lexi kissing her fiancé like a long lost lover, plays tricks on my mind. All I can see is both of them walking away as Kimber lost her shit. There was no command I could’ve given to make her stay. In her mind, she had already made Lexi part of our pack, and our pack was being threatened.