The Filthy Few (Iron Disciples MC) by Daniella Tucci Read Free Book Online Page A

the intention of
pushing him away from me. The moment I see my hands on his muscles I realize
the futility. Compared to me, the man is huge! My hands look so tiny against
his broad shoulders; it also happens to be a turn on and suddenly I think I
want this giant of a man to take me like a lion does his mate.
    I want to feel
his raw power and aggression. I look up into his dark eyes and he glares back
at me with such a fierce intensity that it’s almost scary; and that’s part of
the attraction I’m sure. There is danger in this man and I am certain I am not
totally safe in his presence. He is a man that is used to getting his way; I
can see it in his eyes and the expression on his handsome face. One of his
hands slips around me and he hooks his fingers in the strap of my bra. Abruptly
with surprising intensity he yanks hard at the thin material. At the same
moment his face hardens, his teeth clench together and his dark eyes narrow.
    A cold fear
grips my heart as my skin burns from the fiery red lines as the material is
ripped across my flesh like a rope burn only far more painful. His mouth
covering mine silences the cry of pain that is ripped from my throat! Oddly
enough when he begins to kiss me the pain I’m feeling actually heightens my
sensitivity. My lips are tingling and everywhere his skin touches mine it sends
chills of pleasure straight to my brain causing my synapses to fire non-stop. The
way my head is tingling I would swear I’ve been drugged; but I haven’t. My leg
has long since been forgotten. I’m pretty sure I’m going to regret this in the
morning when the Vicodin he sparingly gives me fails to even take the edge off
my aching limb.
    This time when
he moves to have his way with me I open my legs, grab his ass and pull with all
my sex-crazed strength. I hook my good leg around his waist and pull as well,
but this time he stops me. I pull again with my hands and leg but he doesn’t
budge. What the hell game is he playing at?
    I break off the
kiss and look at him as I continue to use my good leg to bring his hips
together with mine but I’m no match for his strength.
    “Fuck me you
bastard!” I hiss through clenched teeth.
    “I don’t do as
I’m told,” he replies. “I do the telling.
    I move to slap
him and he doesn’t stop me. I hit him so hard with the palm of my hand that it
stings enough to bring tears to the corners of my eyes.
    “Fuck me!”
    This time he
allows me to bring our hips together, just enough to touch but not enough to
grind; it’s freaking maddening. I look away from his body for a second and my
gaze falls on his jacket and the patch that says Filthy Few .
    “Come one
criminal,” I begin. He tenses up and I see a spark in his eyes. “Is this how
one of the Filthy Few takes a woman? Do you wanna make tender sweet love or are
you gonna fuck my brains out like the outlaw you pretend to be? And when he
doesn’t immediately respond I try a new tact. “Or are you just some oversized
fraud?”
    The word fraud
strikes him like a bolt of lightning energizing him so that he reacts like a
lion that just got stung by a bee; a very large one. All at once he’s
thrusting, pounding…fucking furiously and maddeningly crazed like a man on a
mission to fuck me to oblivion; and I love it!
    I don’t realize
I’ve fallen to sleep until my throbbing leg wakes me up. We’re still on the
couch, but his leg has fallen across my broken one and the pain is building
rapidly. I squirm in an effort to dislodge him but he is just too heavy.
    “Cade! Wake the
fuck up. You’re re-breaking my damn leg.”
    “Whaaaa…”
    He stirs a
little but doesn’t quite wake up. So I offer up my knee to his balls in one
quick movement.
    “Ouch! What the
hell?”
    He’s awake now.
    “You’re killing
my leg. Get off before you break it again.”
    “Oh…sorry
geeze… but did you really have to take a crack at my balls?”
    “I’m in pain.
You didn’t wake up. What was I supposed to