Filthy Bastard by Madison Faye
Chapter Five
Nicole
The room spins, and all I’m aware of is pure fire roaring through me as his lips crush to mine—hard, bruising, and taking my breath away.
Oh my God.
I’m kissing the man who just stole me. Oh, it’d be nice and easy to say, “he’s kissing me,” but there’s no denying the fact that my lips are firmly pressing back to his. Maybe it’s autopilot, maybe it’s just force of habit.
Maybe it’s something far darker, and far more scandalous than that. Maybe being tied to a bed and kissed by a rough, dominant man like this lights a fire in me that it really shouldn’t.
I want to pull away, or fucking slap him, but God help me, I’m helpless to do anything moan into his mouth. My lips part, every voice in my head’s screaming at me to stop, but I can’t, and the longer his lips are on mine, the more I don’t want to stop. He growls into my lips, his body pressing mine to the bed, with one of those huge hands sliding up to cup my jaw.
I whimper as I feel… well, something huge press into me—a thick, rock-hard something that absolutely has to be like a gun or something in his jeans. His tongue teases my lips, and I whimper as I part them for him, he groans, almost grinning, like he’s won, and his body tightens as our tongues slide together.
His hand begins to tease down, sliding over my shoulder, and then my side, brushing just past my breasts, and then lower, down towards my hip. His other hand slides above me, and I gasp as I feel something cold and sharp slide past my wrist to suddenly cut the zip-tie around one wrist.
My breath catches, and suddenly, the voice in my is so loud I can’t ignore it anymore. I pull away, and before I even know what I’m doing, I’ve yanked my free hand back and slapped him across the cheek.
Hard.
His eye narrow, and I go white, staring up at him.
“I—”
But slowly, he grins.
“Not bad, princess.”
“Get… get off of me,” I say quietly.
“Sure you want that?”
I swallow thickly.
No
“Yes!” I hiss. “You can’t just… you can’t just kiss people!”
“Well, I just did,” he purrs as he moves up and halfway off the bed, one knee resting on it.
“I know that!”
“And you kissed me back.”
I scowl at him, ignoring the way my cheeks are burning.
“I did no such thing!”
He chuckles. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
“I did not kiss you! It was just…”
I frown, glaring at him, and he laughs.
“It was just what, instinct? You just had to moan into my lips like you were so fucking hungry for that kiss?”
My nose wrinkles. “Prick.”
“Liar.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re…” he arches a brow, smirking as he pulls back and lets his eyes just slide right over me. I want to hide away, but then, I also don’t.
Like, at all.
His eyes on me leaving a heated, tingling feeling in their wake, and I shiver, feeling my skin burn under his hungry gaze.
“And you’re still not wearing any clothes,” he growls quietly.
“Gee, who’s fault is that?”
He grins.
“Take a picture, it might last longer,” I snap.
“I’ve got a camera in the other room.”
My eyes widen, and I stare at him.
“Don’t you dare.”
He chuckles.
“I’m just saying, you definitely kissed me back.”
“I did n—”
“And I think you liked it.”
“I did not!”
“Didn’t we cover lying?”
I groan, balling my hands into fists. “Are you always this much of an asshole?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Suddenly, I gasp as he moves right back over me, pinning me to the bed and taking my breath away.
“We could try again, see if it was a fluke.”
My pulse roars in my ears, and my skin tingles with pure fire.
“Don’t you da—”
I moan as he kisses me again, instantly melting against his rock-hard body and feeling the sizzling thrill of his lips searing to mine.
Fuck, what is wrong with me?
His body presses to mine, bare chest to mine, and I whimper lowly. My nipples drag over his chest and start to harden, and heat pools between my legs. And every single nerve in my body screams for more.
Fuck you, body. Traitor.
Slowly, he pulls away.
“So, what do we think?”
“I think you need to stop kissing me,” I hiss.
He smirks. “Do you?”
His hand teases down my hip, and my belly caves under his touch as I gasp. He pushes lower, and a small, hidden whimper tumbles from my lips.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“See, I think you liked when I kissed you,” he growls, looking right at me, his eyes burning hotly into mine.
I bite my lip, shivering.
“Speak now, princess,” he growls, his hand teasing over my belly and moving lower. “Or forever hold your—”
“Okay!” I gasp, panting. “Okay!” I blush fiercely.
“Okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
He smirks. “Yes what?”
“Yes I…” my face burns. “You’re a good kisser.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
His lips move right back to mine, and I moan, eagerly this time.
My God, what the hell is wrong with me?
He kisses me deeply, and I let one more unbidden moan drift from my lips before I pull back, panting.
“That does not mean I enjoyed it.”
I swallow thickly and glance down, shivering when I see his fingers grazing lower and lower on my tummy, hovering inches from the small little landing strip above my pussy. My eyes slide to his, seeing them blazing with heat, and I shiver with…
Well, excitement. Horribly inappropriate excitement.
“Don’t you dare…” I whisper.
He pushes lower, and my breath catches.
“Don’t I dare what?”
His fingers are like fucking magic, teasing over my skin, and I twist, gasping. But I don’t tell him to stop. He hovers right above me, his hand inches above my pussy, his eyes burning into mine.
“Didn’t like that kiss, huh?”
“N—no,” I whisper.
“Hmm,” he growls. “Let’s check.”
He lowers his hand to brazenly cup my pussy, and I moan. Like, really, really moan—eagerly, even. His finger curls, and the thick digit strokes through my wetness, making me gasp and whimper loudly. I shiver, gasping and moaning as his finger bumps over my clit, before he pulls his hand away, and I realize I’m closing my eyes and gasping for air.
I blush, opening them to see him smirking at me with blazing hot eyes.
“Well, well,” he growls. I blush realizing his finger is right in front his face and glistening wet with my arousal. I watch, spellbound and red-faced as he slowly brings it to his mouth, opens his perfect lips, and sucks the finger inside.
“Fuck, princess,” he growls.
“Wh—what?” I gasp breathlessly.
“That’s not good.”
I frown. “What’s not good?”
“That you taste like fucking candy,” he growls, moving into me and making me moan as he kisses me hard before pulling back.
“And that’s not good?”
“Uh-uh,” he growls. “Because now I just want more.”
He pushes me back, and suddenly, he’s kissing down my body.
Oh my fucking God, what is happening? I’m so turned on and aching for this. It’s horribly wrong, but I’m also wanting it so fucking badly it hurts. I watch as he groans, kissing down my tummy, his hands skimming my hips.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…
And then, the window shatters.
What the—
He roars, making me shriek as he grabs me, suddenly yanking a knife out of his back pocket. My eyes go wide, and I start to scream, but he quickly uses it to slice the belt and then the zip ties on my wrists. He whirls, the other window shattering as he slices the binds on my feet before with a growl, he grabs me and rolls us onto the floor just as another pane of window glass explodes into shards.
“Fuck!” he roars.
The wall behind us explodes with splinters, and its only then that I really get what this is.
Oh my God, we’re being shot at.
I scream, and he growls as he pushes me to the floor, covering me with his body. Glass and wood explode around us before he grabs the bed, muscles bulging as he flips it onto its side and shoves it against both windows.
“Move!” he roars.
He grabs me up, yanking a robe off a hook on the door, and pulls me stumbling down the hallway into the kitchen. I scream when the windows in front of us shatter, bullets riddling the walls as my captor drags me to the ground. He snarls as he grabs a gun off the table just as a bullet makes a bottle of whiskey explode next to us, making me scream. He checks the chamber, his face grim before he pops up and suddenly fires out the shattered windows of the kitchen.
I scream, holding my hands over my head as he fires away, before he drops down to reload. The front door smashes in, and suddenly, he’s whirling and firing. The man who was halfway through the broken door goes down fast, and so does the second. The kitchen door kicks in, and two guys more suddenly rush in.
The Irishman whirls, snarling as he puts a bullet in one, knocking him back. The second charges close, but my captor grabs him by the neck, holds him at arm’s length, brings the gun up, and…
And I scream as I look away, just in time to see the shower of red.
Then, it’s quiet. Well, quiet except for my pulse hammering in my ears.
I turn, panting, sucking in air, with every single nerve in my body firing. It feels like I’m about to explode with the adrenaline coursing through me.
“Hey, hey!”
He grabs my shoulders, giving me a quick shake as he looks into my eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
I blink. “Huh?”
“Are you hurt?”
“N—no,” I whisper, looking around at the carnage with wide, horrified eyes. He whips the robe around me, pulling it closed and tying it.
I blink, staring at the body of the man who charged us lying on the kitchen floor.
“Oh my God,” I choke. “You—you just shot that guy in the face!”
“Yeah,” he growls, standing and reloading.
“No, like right in the face!”
“Yeah, I was there, princess,” he growls. “We need to go, now.”
“Wait, go?” I blurt out. “No, we need to call the cops!”
He arches a brow, almost like he’s amused.
“You really think I’m calling the cops right now?”
I swallow.
“Let’s go.”
I tense as he grabs my wrist, resisting.
“I—no!”
“Now, princess,” he hisses. “There might be more.”
“And I don’t know you except that you just fucking abducted me!” I scream. “Maybe they’re the good guys!”
“They’re not.”
He yanks up one the arm of one of the bodies and pulls up the man’s sleeve to show a tattoo on the side of his hand.
“That’s a mob tattoo,” he growls. “So we’re leaving, now.”
“I don’t know you!”
“Killian,” he mutters suddenly, making me gasp as he whirls and lets his fierce eyes burn into mine.
“Mine name is Killian Donovan.”
I swallow, biting my lip.
“I’m—”
“Nicole, I know. Let’s go.”
He snatches his phone and what I realize is my purse from the shattered glass on the kitchen table, and I let him tug me out of the kitchen, stumbling out of the front door. I start to move for the car, but he stops me.
“No.”
“What?”
“Could be traced, I don’t know,” he growls. “Could be how they found us here.”
He pulls me to small garage next to the little house and opens the door. My eyes widen as I take in the tools, and random engine parts, and half-built motorcycles. He moves to one that actually looks like it works and sits astride it, pulling me behind him. I tuck the robe between my legs, blushing as I sit.
“Hold on to me.”
“I—”
“Just hold on.”
I shiver as I wrap my arms around his muscled torso, feeling that thrill and forbidden heat again. He reaches over to the wall and jams a button, and the main garage door starts to roll open as he flicks on the headlights.
“Fuck.”
He guns the engine at the sight of the oncoming headlights, yanks his gun up and levels it. I scream as the bike lurches forward and as he fires into the oncoming car. The windshield shatters before it careens off the gavel road and comes to a stop against a tree with a sickening crunch. We roar past, and I see two guys dressed in the same dark suits as the ones back in the house slumped over inside.
My pulse races, and my body feels like its electrified. I have no idea where we’re going, or what the fuck is happening. I have no idea who the man is that I’m holding on to, or why he took me. I have no idea why I’ve just been shot at for the first time in my life.
But most importantly, I have no idea why I’m so excited.
And I have no idea why I’m still so horribly, inappropriately, desperately turned on.
