Sinner’s Malice (Soulless Sinners MC #4)

Twenty-One

Silver

Three days later...

“You had no right!” I screamed at Montana.

“Silver, we needed to know.”

“No, you didn’t!” I shouted when Malice stood behind me, saying nothing, as usual. As far as I was concerned, I had every right to rip into Montana. Once again, he’d thought only of himself and gone behind my back to get the information he wanted.

The man would never change.

“Instead of leaving it alone, you invaded my privacy and took my blood without my permission. I told you I was a nobody.”

Montana growled, “You are not a nobody, Silver.”

“Yes, I am. I have been my whole life! My own fucking mother didn’t want me. She sold me to Petrovitch. I never knew my father. I don’t even think she knew who my father was.”

“Silver,” Bane muttered, speaking up. “Iris Hughes isn’t your mother, either. She lied to you.”

“What? What do you mean? How do you know that?” I gasped, shaking my head when I stepped back into Malice. Reaching around me, he held me as Bane continued to speak.

“Iris Hughes was a club piece back in the day. One of Barney’s girls. The club records verified that. Plus, I had her blood in the club’s database. When I ran her blood against yours, it wasn’t a match.”

“Sweetheart,” Mercy softly added. “We don’t know how you came to be in her care, but with your permission, Pippen has offered to look into the matter.”

I stood stock still in Malice’s arms, slowly shaking my head. This was fucking unbelievable. My whole life I hated that bitch for how she treated me and for selling me to Petrovitch. I thought I did something wrong. That she was punishing me. Now, she wasn’t even my mom.

That evil bitch!

“Silver, look at me,” Montana said, standing before me. “It doesn’t matter. You are Soulless, just like the rest of us. Have been since you arrived here all those years ago. I don’t need some damn DNA test to tell me who you belong to. You are mine. I claimed you. You are Malice’s woman. Trust me, that fucker will not let you go anywhere. You belong to all of us. We are your family. Always will be.”

This was too much.

I didn’t want to be here.

I needed time to think.

My entire life was a fucking lie.

So many questions and not one fucking answer. Everything I thought I knew didn’t matter. I didn’t matter. What was I? A pawn? A missing kid? Was anyone out there looking for me? Did they even know I was gone? Did they care?

“Silver, there is something else,” Bane muttered.

Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t care.”

Without looking back, I walked out of the clubhouse. I knew they were only trying to help. Mainly by covering their asses, but in their own way, I knew they cared. But I wasn’t anyone. I belonged to no one. I thought I at least knew my birth mother, but even she was a fucking liar. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was an orphan, with no one on this earth to call my own.

I was alone.

Everything I thought I knew was a lie. I didn’t even know if Arianwen was my real name. I felt adrift in the world with no anchor. Nothing made sense anymore.

“Arianwen?”

“Go away, Malice. I’m not good company right now.”

“Can’t do that.”

I should have known he would follow me. Asshole never gave me space. I didn’t even think he knew the meaning of the word.

“What do you want?”

“To walk with you.”

Stopping, I looked up at the man I’d loved since I was a teenager. The man who saved me from Death himself. And when his eyes softened, he took my hands in his, and I found myself in his arms once more.

“Malice?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“I know who you are. I’ve always known. You are mine.”

I awoke from a restless night’s sleep to the sensation of the sun’s warmth on my face. Gradually, my senses picked up on the presence of a warm body pressed close to me, creating a feeling of comfort and safety. I remained perfectly still, not daring to make a sound or even breathe. Even though Malice and I had shared a bed on a few occasions before, there had always been an undeniable distance between us, as if we were in separate worlds. During our first night sharing a bed, he’d slept right on the edge, and I couldn’t help but worry that he might accidentally roll off. Even the night that held the promise of ecstasy ended with a void between us, each of us on opposite sides of the bed, our bodies craving contact but remaining untouched.

Affectionate was not a word I would use to describe Malice.

Indifferent, yes.

Throughout all my encounters with him, the only time he showed any form of emotion was when anger consumed him. Given his perpetual anger, I couldn’t help but find it odd that he held me tightly, his body curled around mine in an embrace. I could feel his warm breath against my neck.

The rhythm of his breath was consistent, each one flowing smoothly in and out.

The sensation tickled my skin, causing a slight shiver to run down my spine. Without conscious thought, I snuggled closer to his comforting warmth.

The man was a furnace, radiating heat all around me.

It was then I realized something significant.

We were naked.

Suddenly, I was wide awake and fully present in the moment.

I never slept naked. Against all expectations, I found myself sharing an intimate moment with Malice, both of us in our natural state. It was a completely new experience for me and for him, I was sure of it, and surprisingly, I was okay with it.

I felt safe.

Even in his sleep, he was mindful of my presence, and enveloped me with his arms, bringing me closer until I could feel the firmness of his cock pressed against my back.

As I wiggled, a sense of pure bliss washed over me. The contrast between the velvety softness of the skin and the unyielding rigidity was simply delightful. It was at that precise moment, when he growled, that I became aware of the fact that I had inadvertently woken him up.

Shifting slightly, he maneuvered me so that his erect shaft intimately pressed against the wetness that had already built up, creating an incredibly tantalizing sensation. My face turned red with embarrassment, aware that he could sense my arousal and grateful that he couldn’t witness my shame.

Emitting a low, pleasure-filled groan, he sensually eased his hard shaft into the slickness, teasingly sliding it between my throbbing, wet folds. I could feel the ridge of his cock pressing against my eager clit, which was already pulsating with desire, and in response, my hips ground uncontrollably against him. The slow, deliberate thrusting between my lips created a tantalizing friction that, combined with his unhurried pace, sent me into a frenzy of desire.

Overwhelmed by pleasure, I whimpered and climaxed, causing my arousal to soak his cock with my abundant juices. He positioned himself behind me, his hands firmly held onto my hips, allowing him to enter me smoothly.

Placing a kiss on the side of my neck, he let out a deep growl and sternly commanded, “Don’t move.”

With deliberate slowness and a calm demeanor, he relished the intimate sensation of my warm and inviting core enveloping him.

Frustrated with the painfully slow rhythm, I took the initiative and flipped us both over. I straddled him, facing his feet, and moved my hips in a rhythmic motion. Each thrust brought him deeper inside me, intensifying our connection. While I maintained my rhythm on his cock, he pulled me closer, his hands cupping and teasing my bouncing breasts. In a moment of self-exploration, I allowed my hand to descend slowly, eventually reaching the intimate region of my body. It was there, nestled within the slippery folds, that I discovered the sensitive spot known as my clitoris. With a gentle touch, I stimulated it, feeling the growing intensity of pleasure as I brought myself closer to the peak of an orgasm.

Pressing me against him, he used his hands to grip my hips, allowing me to ride him with increasing intensity, until another powerful orgasm consumed me, my body twisting and turning in ecstasy. While desperately trying to fill my lungs with air and feeling trapped against his chest, I realized even though I had experienced multiple orgasms, he hadn’t cum.

“Malice?”

Without even giving me a chance to ask my question, he swiftly flipped me onto my stomach, not bothering to withdraw first, positioning himself on top of me. I tried to rise onto my elbows, but his hand firmly pressed between my shoulder blades, effectively preventing me from getting up, even after he had already pulled me up onto my knees. The gentle friction of the sheets against my sensitive nipples added to the intense pleasure I was feeling, while my raised buttocks allowed him to enter me with powerful and satisfying thrusts.

There was no doubt that he was fully awake at that moment, displaying no signs of fatigue as he skillfully brought me to yet another climax.

My hips were no longer guided by his hands. I matched his thrusts with my own, causing a rush of pleasure to course through my body. A hand snaked around my hips, discovering my sensitive clit and rubbing it with fervor, in a desperate bid to extract another climax from my fatigued form. With each passing moment, I could feel his cock stiffen harder. His touch intensified while his other hand traced a path up my body, electrifying my senses as it reached my sensitive nipples, evoking a pleasurable shiver.

He groaned as I tightened around him. With each movement of rubbing, tweaking, and thrusting, the pleasure intensified until I could no longer hold back. I bucked and climaxed, my own release echoing in the air, while he let out a primal yell, emptying himself deep inside me.

Without warning, he fell down, trapping me underneath him for a brief moment before he moved aside, returning us to our initial spooning position. His cock softened and slipped out and a warm trickle of his cum followed, leaving a damp trail down my thighs onto the mattress.

In silence, I laid there, my breathing labored, while the morning sunshine filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the disheveled sheets and my glistening, sweaty skin.

Allowing myself to fully immerse in the powerful sensation of his presence, I reveled in the delightful feeling and encountered a profound sense of gratification that ultimately left me pleasantly drowsy as he unexpectedly shifted positions and gracefully extracted himself from the twisted covers. It was chilly again, without the heat from his body cocooning mine.

I shifted my position and gazed at him as he rummaged around for a pair of boxers, marveling at the way his muscles flexed and rippled just beneath the surface of his skin. After a thorough search, he eventually found his boxers and hurriedly put them on, effectively concealing his alluring penis that was already becoming slightly erect once more.

With a puzzled expression on my face, I glanced upwards and was met with a heartwarming smile from him, followed by a tender kiss on my forehead. “Don’t move.”

With a nod, I closed my eyes and took shelter under the sheet, hoping to warm up. With the comforting sounds of his puttering filling the penthouse, I allowed myself to fully unwind and embrace the peaceful ambiance, feeling content and completely relaxed.

Sometime later, I felt the bed shift when he leaned over me, planting gentle kisses between my shoulder blades. My eyes widened as I rolled over and saw the breakfast he had brought back. The sight of two cups of caramel dipping sauce, a bowl of meticulously sliced apples, and a large glass of apple juice, its chilled surface moist with condensation, made my mouth water.

“You really like apples, don’t you?”

“They remind me of you.”

“They do?”

“The forbidden fruit.”

When I frowned, he added, “Every time I wanted you, I would eat an apple.”

Leaning up on the bed, I looked at him and glared. “You mean to tell me the reason I had to bulk order apples was because you were horny?”

Malice nodded as a slow smile appeared on his face.

It was then I noticed he had lost his boxers. With a mysteriously devious smile, he dragged the sheet down, baring my naked body to his gaze. With a mischievous grin on his face, he grabbed the bottle of apple juice and deliberately poured a small amount into my belly button, causing me to squirm. The condensation on the glass slowly made its way down, tracing a path along my chest, and I could feel my nipples becoming more sensitive.

“Don’t move.”

The realization hit me all at once, causing me to comprehend the source of his smile. With his head lowered, he indulged in the juice from my belly button, his warm tongue providing a delightful contrast to the cold liquid.

As the sensation intensified, my nipples hardened, and I could feel the dampness increasing between my thighs. He opened the caramel sauce, and a delicious aroma filled the room. He couldn’t resist smearing a generous amount over my breasts, delighting in the feel of the smooth, sticky sauce. Leaning over, he indulged in the savory, creamy sweetness with each deliberate stroke of his tongue. With each passing moment, the need for him intensified, causing my hips to buck uncontrollably. He leisurely traced his lips and tongue along my sensitive nipples. He playfully nibbled on the sweet sauce, causing it to become velvety and slippery.

Drenched, my juices pooled beneath me, leaving me feeling sticky and uncomfortable. Moving down even further, he spread the last of the sticky caramel sauce onto my lower belly and exposed mound. Employing the same exquisitely slow movements as previously, he painstakingly cleaned my skin, ensuring that not a single trace of the sweet treat remained.

Moving down further, my legs unconsciously spread to create space for him to lie between them. This time, he picked up an apple slice, savoring its sweet aroma and relishing the satisfying crunch when he took a bite. As he reached between my legs, I shivered at the touch of the cold fruit gliding against my moist folds, causing me to gasp and instinctively move my hips. He raised the apple slice to his lips and licked it clean before finally taking a satisfying bite.

“Don’t move.”

With a deliberate motion, he ran the apple slice along my slit, capturing the rich juice and bringing it to his mouth. His torment persisted as he leisurely devoured one apple slice after another, my cream magically replenishing each time.

“Now I’m going to show you how I really eat my sweet apple.”

Gulping, I nodded.

“Don’t move.”

Abandoning the apple slices, he grabbed my hips and buried his face between my legs, licking up the sweet apple-flavored juices that pooled out of me. The man was ravenous as he devoured my soul. The flat of his tongue licked and devoured every drop of cream my body gave him. A starved man, he didn’t stop until he reached his fill. Even then, he went back for more until I was screaming, begging him to stop.

When he finally put an end to his torment, he collapsed right next to me, his breath coming out in heavy gasps.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

For the rest of the day, Malice and I stayed cocooned in the penthouse. During that time, I learned that Malice preferred reading to watching television. Chinese food to Italian, and though not overly talkative, he was knowledgeable in many areas.

It was a side of him he rarely showed.

I realized, alone in the penthouse, he could just be himself. That no one expected anything of him. It was refreshing to see he could let down his guard and just be.

Laying on the couch, my head in his lap, while I watched television, and he read a book, I asked, “Malice?”

“Hmm,” he replied distractedly, turning a page in his book.

“Why won’t you let me touch you during sex?”

Closing the book, he sighed and moved, which caused me to sit up. Facing him, I watched as he placed his book on the ottoman, before leaning forward and clasping his hands together.

“Because of him.”

I learned with Malice it was best to say nothing. To let him set the pace when he needed to say something.

Sitting back on the sofa, I did just that.

“I was around seven when he introduced me to Lucy McLaren. She was a soulless bitch that enjoyed boys younger than her. She wanted to play with me, and he didn’t stop her. He never did. From that day forward, every time he brought me back to the Trick Pony, he would beat me senseless and then hand me over to her. Everything I know about pleasuring a woman, she taught me. The things she taught me, Arianwen, the things she made me do, still haunt me to this day. She would beat me worse than him when I messed up or didn’t make her cum. One time, she caned my feet because I accidentally came before she did. Now, when a woman touches me, my body instantly reacts, like it’s her touching me. I’ve tried everything, but nothing works. Just holding you is hard sometimes because I can still feel her hands on me. She is also the reason I won’t ever let you give me a blowjob. I can’t. The only way I can be with a woman is if she’s tied up or facing away from me. Even then, it’s hit or miss.”

Taking a deep breath, I said, “But this morning—”

He shook his head. “You were facing away from me, Arianwen. I did the touching.”

“So, if I was facing you...”

“I would have stopped you by any means necessary.”

“Like you did the night you claimed me.”

He nodded.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

He turned and looked at me with longing in his eyes. “More than anything. I want to feel your hands on me, your mouth on me, without wanting to kill you.”

When I said nothing else, he got up.

“I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Alright,” I replied as he headed for the door.

The second he was gone, I reached for my phone and dialed Sinclair.

“Hello, Little One. How may I help you?”

“You said if I needed anything, I could call you. Did you mean that?”

“Yes. What do you need, Little One?”

“I need Lucy McLaren delivered alive to the clubhouse.”

“Consider it done.”