Page 59 of Powerless
"Shadow, stop!" I pressed my hands to his biceps. "Wait."
He froze, looking at me directly for the first time. I couldn't read his expression, whether it was angry or confused. He just looked...blank. I said stop, so he did.
But what the ever-loving fuck? Where did this come from? And what would he do if I tried to get away?
His grip on my waist was tight, his strong fingers digging into my skin. Jandro trusted both of us enough to leave us alone—did he ever think this would be happening? He wouldn’t let me come alone if he considered Shadow a risk to my safety, would he?
Because even though we were on the same team, Shadow was one big, intimidating motherfucker, and he only ever said two words to me in the weeks I’d been with the club. A memory flashed of him tying me up the first time the Steel Demons took me. He bound me tightly, doing as he was ordered by Reaper, but no one was ordering him now. What would he do to someone smaller and weaker than him with no one watching?
I didn’twantto think the worst but here I was with my pants down, in the last situation I expected after Reaper and Gunner assured me their men didn’t prey on women. The fact of the matter was I didn’t know anything about Shadow, aside from his strong disdain of women and that he was an experienced, skilled killer.
In my panicked, utterly confused state of mind, it seemed the best course of action was to give him what he wanted.
So I raised my hips and reached behind me, feeling for the cock he was just about to shove into me with nothing leading up it. No foreplay, no flirting, not even a word exchanged. And fuck me, it was huge.
My fingers nearly didn’t touch as they wrapped around the shaft. Shadow’s hand fell away from my waist, his eyelids softening at the contact of my hand on him. It seemed he wasn’t bothered about putting in any effort once he saw that I was about to take the reins.
I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this. Reaper is waiting for me in his fucking bathtub for fuck’s sake!I screamed in my head.
Shadow’s fists curled at his sides when I swept the crown of his dick against my entrance. Just that motion squashed any thoughts about running off. A single swing from one of those fists would send my brain matter all over the patio. The consequences of this would be grave but no one was coming to my rescue now, and I just had to get through it.
Lowering myself onto him was a slow, arduous process with his size and the complete lack of foreplay but I found myself wetter than I expected, given the circumstances. He was, after all, the first of the four sexiest Demons I really noticed. Reaper was the first one Isaw,but it was Shadow who made me bump into his coffee table when I came over to serve him beer.
The tall, imposing frame, those tortured, soulful eyes, and all the scars he tried to keep hidden. He clearly had no idea how magnetizing that was to some women. To touch him was not only to flirt with danger, but to fall into it unabashedly. Even now, in this situation, my palm itched to touch the short beard covering his jaw, to push away the long hair he kept over his face so he’d look at me with both eyes.
But if I did, would I live to tell about it?
His head tilted back with a soft hiss as his length began disappearing inside me. I found myself doing the same as he stretched me out from the inside. The sensation was intense, but not painful. When I began a slow roll of my hips, my hands splayed out to brace myself for leverage. My fingers met the bare skin of his abdomen, his cut T-shirt now falling away to the side.
With my knees on the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, I found a somewhat steady rhythm as I rode him. He never touched me or made a sound. His eyes flicked up and down, from where our bodies connected, to where my hands rested on him, to my still fully-clothed torso hovering above him, but he never met my eye.
He was so…cold. Clinical and detached. Men who paid for whores showed more enthusiasm than this. That thought process only spiraled back to the pervasive question ofwhydid he start this?
I tried to act the same way he did. Not making a sound, not looking at him, not doing anything but the bare minimum to get him off so I could end this and run to Reaper. But I could never treat sex that way, not even like this.
And I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was a fucking specimen of a man. Beautiful in such a sad, dark way. Massive arms and chiseled shoulders I just wanted to run my hands across. The Steel Demons skull emblem sat inked on the left side of his chest, right over his heart. I wanted to trace it with my fingers like I did with Reaper’s. Or maybe with my tongue.
I became so entranced with all the fine details of his body, I didn’t notice the moan escaping my mouth until it was too late. For once, he looked up at my face, surprised. And my face burned red with shame at the realization that I wasenjoyingthis.
He was hot as hell, with a huge dick that stretched me in ways I didn’t know were possible. And yes, he was dangerous and a cold-blooded killer, but he wasn’t forcing me to do anything. I probably had the advantage at this point to hop off and run for my life, but I didn’twantto.
My hands skimmed up his abs to his chest, splaying open my fingers wide tofeelthe heat of his skin, the beat of his heart under that grinning skull. I rode him even more vigorously, taking the full length of him on every downstroke and moaning openly each time he filled me.
Still he didn’t say a thing, or move his hands from his sides to touch me. I had so many questions, so many ways I wanted to test him with small gestures. How would he react to a kiss? Or if I just grabbed his hands and put them on me?
But as much as I enjoyed him, his complete lack of reaction also made me insecure. This could still end badly for me if I pushed things too far. I just didn’t know him well enough to take that risk.
So I settled for caressing him, enjoying the view and feel of him as I rolled my hips back and forth. He let out a sigh as my hands reached his chest again, then his whole body stiffened with a groan.
A moment later I felt the swelling and spilling of warmth as he released inside me. He panted as I slowed my movements, and then I felt the first touch with the tiniest glimpse of intimacy—his fingers brushing against my knee.
And like that, I felt like a blindfold had been torn away from my eyes.
Fuck.
Fuck!
Oh fuck, what did I just do?
