Tirone: Texas Chapter Duet Part Two (The Night Skulls MC Book 2)
Tirone: Chapter 42

“That concludes our class today. Please turn your assignment by Monday. If you have questions, I’m one email away. See y’all tomorrow,” I said, and the students buzzed to leave the classroom. My gaze shifted to the windows, like it’d been doing every minute. I was so nervous after I’d learned the news about the Larvins. I didn’t want to leave the compound in the first place, but Laius said we all needed to act normal to prove to them we weren’t afraid of them.

But we were. He doubled the security at the school. Normally, it was a rotation between a couple of prospects. Sometimes, Marshall or Doc hovered, too, but it was mainly Rex’s job to protect me here. How fucking ironic. Most of the time, it was Tirone I needed protection from more than I’d ever needed from the mob.

I’d begged Laius to stay with me all night yesterday, convincing him I was afraid to be alone because of the horrible news, but it wasn’t the Larvins’ visit I feared the most.

“You should really drop that stupid accent, Miss M.” Tirone yanked me out of one fear and shoved me into another. The students were leaving, and he was still in his seat. Why?

“Go to your next class, Tirone. You don’t want to be late.”

He chuckled. Then, as the last student left, he got up and went to the windows. My heart banged, and when he turned the blinds up, I darted toward the door.

In a split-second, he blocked the way and his hand was fast with the lock. “You can’t run from me, Jo. You made your husband guard you like a dog last night, but today, he can’t save you from me. Here, you’re mine.”

“This is a fucking classroom. Students will be here any minute.”

“Oh, they’ll wait. When they know it was us in here, Rex and his stepmom from the MC having a talk, they’ll fucking wait. No one messes with the Night Skulls, little faerie.”

“Laius sent many people in today. If the students don’t suspect anything, the prospects will.”

“And I give a shit because?” He dipped his fingers under my wig, tangling them into my hair, his lips on mine, kissing, biting, sucking, licking. When I fought, his hand squeezed around my throat as his tongue invaded my mouth.

I bit him. I fucking bit him so hard blood came into my mouth, and then, as he groaned a curse, I slapped him. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.”

He stared at me with fire in his eyes, rage flames dancing with carnal desire. I sprinted back to the door, but he used his male strength and held my waist with ironclad arms, pulling me in the air and bending me over my own desk.

“No, no. Stop. I don’t want this.” I kicked his knees with the heels of my shoes as he lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties, exposing my ass, and from his view, my pussy, too. Then I felt his hardness about to violate me.

“Remember when I took you just like that in our old school? You were telling the same lies. Then you clenched and throbbed around my cock like a good bitch.”

“Back then I said no because it was inappropriate and I was only afraid we’d get caught. But you weren’t raping me, Tirone. Now, you are.”

“When you came all over my fingers in the car, I was raping you, too, Jo?”

“You can’t keep doing this to me. I can’t keep feeling that way. I can’t do this to him, and you can’t do this to me. You can’t use me like that, especially when you’re fucking someone else. I’m not a bitch, yours or anyone else’s. It has to stop. You have to stop.”

“You really want me to stop, Jo?”

“Yes. I’ll do anything. Just fucking stop.”

His hands groped my breasts as the tip of his cock pressed against me. Then his breath fell hot on my earlobe. “If you want me to stop, tell me you made the wrong choice when you married him. Tell me it was a fucking mistake.” His breath quivered on my neck. “Tell me that you love me, Jo, and I’ll stop.”

I wanted to scream. My eyes squeezed shut with a long list of aches streaming in tears that seemed to never end. “I’m in love with your father, Tirone. Marrying him is one the best things that has ever happened to me. He’s not a mistake. You and I were…and yet, no matter how hard you hurt me, no matter how hard I lie to myself or to him or to you, I can’t stop fucking loving you.”

His chin rested on my shoulder as his breathing grew louder, heavier. I couldn’t read his emotions or anticipate his next move. While I couldn’t say everything he wanted me to say because I couldn’t lie about Laius, I told him the truth. I told him the most important thing he needed to hear. I loved him. It had to amount to something. He had to stop hurting me.

“You’re pathetic,” he growled.

“What?”

“You think telling me that you love me will spare you? You think I still have a heart that will listen to a fucking lying bitch that would do anything and say anything to fool me again?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Well, I am. I don’t give a shit about how you feel. I won’t stop, Jo. I just want to fucking break you, show you how pathetic you are.” He pressed my cheek to the hard wood of the desk, holding my head still and looking at me all the fucking time while he thrust into me, savoring every ounce of my pain and humiliation. “You know what will really do it? What you really can do that will make me stop?”

“What, you piece of shit?”

“You’ll let me watch him fuck you again.”

Nausea hit me. “You want to see your father sleeping with me? You want to watch me with him? Isn’t that what drove you mad, Ty? Isn’t that why you’re raping me every fucking day?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I know you well. When he did it in front of you, you snapped. You bottled down your anger until you exploded. You pretended to keep your distance while nothing but revenge was brewing in your head. That’s why you’re hurting me. You think taking me in this brutal way will help with the dark pain you must be feeling. You got pierced to trick me on my wedding night. You’re forcing yourself on me every day, thinking it’ll make you and him even.”

“But it doesn’t,” he groaned, pounding me again. “I try and try to get him out of my head, to stop seeing him inside you, to lie to myself and say I’m the only one fucking you, but I can’t get that fucking picture out of my head. It fucking kills me. I want to rip my own eyes out so I won’t see it again.” His thrusts hurt, but it was his pain that split me apart. “So yes, I want to watch him do it again only so I fuck you right after, only so I can relive that misery while I rewrite my own version. One I can fucking live with without losing my goddamn mind.”

“You’re sick, Tirone. Sicker than I’ve ever imagined.”

He moved faster, harder. “If I’m sick, what does that make you?”

My tears dropped on the desk. “What does it make me?”

His groans of climax filled my ear while his cum filled my pussy. “The fucking disease.”