"Thirty seconds. That's all you have to stop the bullshit, or your son is dead."
~~~~
Six years ago, Chelsea Doherty lost everything when her husband disappeared without a trace and left her to clean up his past. Now living in Ireland, she has piec...
This chapter is dedicated to philouwrites whose ONC entry 7 Nights with the Bogeyman promises to be this rollercoaster story you can't get enough of. A lovable MC, an intriguing (and very seductive) LI whom you want to hate but can't help but love -- oh, and did I mention the spice? A delicious recipe with a sprinkle of horror what will keep you up at night (*insert evil laugh). Go and check it out.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Warning: This chapter includes a 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ scene which will be marked within the text. Feel free to skip.
~~~~
Drogheda, Ireland
February 2024
~~~~
"Hey, Bastian, wake up. You got yourself a bed bug."
The words take a moment to penetrate my sleep deprived brain; I sit up and rub my eyes to bring a rather bizarre scene into focus. Anton, taking up the entire frame to the adjacent bedroom, has his gun pointed at Chelsea who stands like a little lost girl next to my duffel. Her cheeks are flushed; Anton must have caught her red-handed peering through my stuff.
"What's going on?" I lift my brows at Chelsea to offer me an explanation before Anton loses his patience and shoots her.
"Uhm—uhm—" She shuffles her feet; her attempts to diffuse the situation are adorable.
In her defense, if I had Anton glare at me with this death-stare, I'd be worried, too.
"Uhm, you said you'd give me something to relax. I have to leave and didn't want to wake you, so I thought I'd get it myself."
Nice save.
"So you just searched through his bag?" Anton growls, though he lowers his gun and secures it.
I raise my hand to call him off. "It's fine. Do you want nose candy or are you more of a pill popper?"
"Some Molly, if you have it."
I cross the room with a few long strides and search my bag for the colorful ecstasy pills. Wrapping her hand around the baggie, I jut my chin at the desk. "Before you leave, make sure to write your phone number on the notepad."
"I haven't agreed—"
"No? Because I can have my associate shoot you simply for going through my stuff. Of course, if we were business partners, I'd refrain from giving him such an order." She drops her gaze and I smile. Smart move. "We'll be leaving for the States in the next two days, so be ready on short-notice."
Five minutes later, the door to my hotel room closes behind her. I drop the notepad with her number on top of the duffel, ready to go back to bed.
Anton folds his arms. "Are you just gonna let her walk out of here without repercussions? She searched your bag. What if she knows who you are?"
I shrug. "She would've found out eventually. Besides, what am I supposed to do? Kill her? At the moment, she is the only one who can help us find Marcel Pierce."
And if I were in her shoes, I'd be spying on me. Intel is power.
"Still"—he pouts, his tone turning whiny—"and why did you have to sleep with her?"
I smirk. "Awe, are you jealous?"
"You know I don't like it when you fuck girls."
"And you know that I don't discriminate." I fiddle with the top button of his shirt. "As long as they have a hole I can stick my dick into, I'm good."
"So you're not gonna make it up to me?"
"I didn't say that."
In the next breath, his mouth is upon me.
Hard. Demanding. Almost cruel.
🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
He forces my lips apart as his tongue takes control. My body is still wired from Chelsea's touch and I gladly follow his lead. Arms and legs entangled, we drop on the bed. His strong frame holds me in place and his mouth takes what it deems to be his until he has to come up for air.
His fingers stroke through my curls. "I'm gonna fucking edge you until you beg to stick your cock in my ass."
I smile.
I'm down for that.
His eyes are dark with lust as he disposes of his clothes. "Get on your stomach and don't fucking move until I give you permission."
I roll over with a low laugh while he grabs the vaseline off the nightstand. Two of his fingers push inside me at once; he knows my body well enough to hit the prostate on the first try. I grit my teeth to suppress a moan. My cock is as hard as a rock again and jumps with anticipation.
With his fingers picking up the pace, Anton strokes the inside of my thigh with his other hand, almost coaching a moan out of me.
Fuck, this feels amazing.
My cock is ready for some action.
He chuckles. "Yeah, you like that, don't you? It's nothing like being with a girl. Those whores don't know what men truly like."
"Shut up and fuck me."
"Oh, was that a demand?" He hits me hard on the ass, sending sweet tingles up my spine. "Guys who fuck girls don't get to be in control."
His fingers slide in and out of me so fast that I can hear the popping friction. He hits the prostate every fucking time. The heat is building in my core; I moan into the pillow, ready to explode. Just as I'm about to succumb to my lust, he pulls out.
"I think you are ready for some cock."
I tug up my knee almost all the way to my chin and angle to the side to allow him easy access while he lubes up. The tip of his cock glistens with arousal and it takes all my effort not to beg to taste him.
He grins. "I know what you want, but you're not getting it. Not as long as your dick smells like her cum."
So at some point, he wants to continue the evening in the shower. Fine with me.
Not wasting any more time, he lies behind me and tests my opening with an inch of his length. "Feels good?"
"Mh-mhm."
Thrusting inside me, he fills me up, the side of his hard rod continuing where his fingers left off. The heat burns like fire in my core; three strokes of my own cock and I explode. The orgasm rips through me with such force that my body shakes. I pull him with me and we ride the last waves together.
🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
Lust. Passion. Hunger.
A void to fill left by the persistent violence in our lives.
We are brothers in arms, something a woman could never understand.
My heart pounds in my chest.
Fuck, that was good.
A ping alerts me of an incoming message.
Jackson Pierce is on the move. Need you on the ground in Texas pronto.
Total WP word count: 7,402
Okay, after two spicy chapters, we are going to go back to more intrigue in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this installment of Paradise Falling, if so, please consider clicking the Star and don't forget to drop me a comment. Thank you so much for reading and sticking with this story so far.
