Page 41 of Filthy Secret

It sounds too good to be true, so I open my mouth to say just that when he continues. “I know it sounds too good to be true, and that’s what I thought, too, but honest to fuck, they just want to get it rented to someone. It’s a great location, and it’s got everything we need. I think it’s a good investment.”

“Do you need any financial support from the club?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I’ve got plenty saved. Never use my money for anything. Same with a couple other guys. We’re going to pool our money. It’s still going to be owned by the club. Everyone will have a rotation to work it. But my vice president, my treasurer and I are going to run the day-to-day operations.”

I don’t hate the sound of any of this. In fact, I like it. Flicking my gaze over to King, I try to gauge his reaction, but his expression is blank as he stares at his father. Then, he places his hands on the top of the table before he pushes himself to stand. I watch as he leans over and looks directly into his father’s eyes.

“I like this for you,” he says. I wait for the but, and it comes. However, it’s not what I quite expect it to be. “But I wish you wouldn’t take it on so you could see your grandkid more.”

Nash’s lips curve up into a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be at every fucking milestone for that kid. I think I missed enough in life. I don’t plan on missing more.”

There’s something really fucking amazing about their relationship. Nash didn’t raise King, but they have this easy father-son relationship now that is built on a respected friendship rather than a typical child and father situation. I wish I had what they have, and I am man enough to admit that I’m jealous as fuck.

Then my thoughts drift to Adam, and I have to suck in a breath as I think about him. I want everything with him, and then I want more kids with Ryan. For whatever fucking reason, I want a whole goddamn houseful, and I don’t even know why.

I’m not sure if it’s because I want to keep her or if it’s because I want more little creatures like her. Maybe it’s a combination of both. Whatever the fuck it is, I want it.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

RYAN

My breath hitches, and my eyes pop open wide as my hips are lifted by a strong hand. Wet fingers slide through my center. I let out a whimper, knowing exactly whose hand is between my legs.

It’s Grover’s perfect touch. His hand at my hip shifts, and I feel his palm wrap around my mouth, stopping me from crying out as his hand moves and then his fingers between my legs are replaced with the head of his cock right before he slams into me.

It’s without ease. It’s hard, and I feel like he’s ripped me in half. I expect him to pause when he’s buried to the hilt so I can adjust to his size, to his invasion, but he doesn’t. Instead, he fucks me. It’s not making love. It’s not even sex. It’s rough and filled with anger.

Grover grunts behind me, his hips pistoning as he moves in and out of my body, his balls slapping against my clit, the sound of his flesh against mine with each thrust filling the air. It hurts. But at the same time, I welcome it.

I close my eyes when he tugs my head back, my neck stretched at an uncomfortable angle as he holds me back. My fingers grip the sheets beneath me, my arms straight, elbows locked, back bowed.

He fucks me hard in silence, his grunts growing with each thrust. The hand that was between my legs is suddenly wrapped around my throat as he squeezes. Then he lifts me up a bit more by my neck, high enough that I can’t keep my hands on the bed to brace myself any longer.

The only thing holding me up aside from his hands, one on my mouth, the other around my throat, is the fact that his dick is buried deep inside of me. Grover pushes up, over and over. He doesn’t stop, his pace so hard and fast that I start to see stars.

Or maybe I’m seeing stars because his fingers continue to grip the front of my throat, squeezing and releasing with each thrust. He releases his hand from my mouth, slipping it between my legs as he begins to touch my clit.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, his lips against my ear, his hot breath washing over me. My eyes slide closed as his fingers begin to work between my legs.

“Not right now,” I moan. He pushes up inside of me with a hard thrust, and I whimper. “Yes,” I whisper.

“I want you to hurt,” he rasps.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer me right away. Instead, he continues with his brutal thrusts while his fingers continue to play my clit, bringing me closer and closer to an orgasm. I don’t know if it’s a forced one or what exactly is happening, but I’m on the edge… and with just a few swipes of his fingers, I come.

My orgasm rushes through me so hard that my entire body convulses. I whimper, careful not to cry out loudly so I don’t wake up Adam. I don’t want him to think I’m being hurt again.

Grover doesn’t stop moving even after I’ve come. His hand moves from between my legs, his other still gripping my throat. Then I feel his fingers against my back as he pushes me back over again.

Before I realize what’s happening, his hands are no longer on my back or my throat. Instead, he’s gripping my hips as he pulls them back. I don’t know how he can keep going. I have a sheen of sweat covering my body, and I feel overly sensitive. Every inch of my body is in pain or pleasure, a mixture that I’m not sure of, and I don’t know where the pain ends and the pleasure begins.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I don’t know if I want him to stop or to keep going. I feel like I don’t know anything right now. My body, my mind, every part of me is mush, and then he stops and lets out a growl as I feel him empty himself inside of me.

He’s panting above me, but he doesn’t make a move to pull out of me the way he did yesterday. In fact, he stays buried deep, his fingers gripping me hard, adding to my already bruised body.