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T here’s a good chance I’ve lost my marbles. I could blame my newfound courage on hormones or just being plain fed up, but I have a feeling if a shrink got their hands on me right now, they’d probably lock me in a padded room and throw away the key.

It has to be the only explanation as to why I’m hellbent on riling Ringo up this much.

Am I pissed about being forced to marry him?

Hell yes, I am.

And it’s not even because I don’t want to marry him, because if I’m being honest, later down the track, when my life’s not hanging by a thread and things are calmer, I could totally see myself as Mrs Musgrove.

But I’m being forced, which quite frankly, pisses me off .

“You’re acting very reckless, little bride,” Ringo sneers into my ear after I taunted him about picturing him as Harry Styles. “Don’t forget, your actions will have consequences. Some of which you may not like.”

When he pulls back to glare at me, I arch a brow.

“You mean there’s something worse than being forced to marry an old man?”

A muscle ticks under his eye, and everything in me screams to take a step back.

Warning. Danger ahead. Do not proceed.

“Yeah, Angel. Maybe there is something worse.” He grips my chin, pressing our noses together. “Like being fucked by an old man.”

Oh.

My traitorous body lights up, an instant pulsing flaring between my thighs, and my nipples bead into tight buds, straining against the satin fabric of my dress.

Shit. This is not good. I’m not even wearing a bra.

Two months ago, the thought of being fucked made me feel sick.

Today, however, I’m practically salivating to find out if this man can wipe away the filth those six arseholes left behind.

Still, I’m pissed about this forced wedding. About having the decision ripped from me once again.

Am I as pissed as I was with my parents?

God, no. That was different. On a whole other level.

But, I’m still not happy.

As a little girl, I used to dream about my wedding. I imagined Lexi beside me as my bridesmaid, and my friends throwing confetti. My little sister, Tahli, sprinkling the aisle with rose petals as the cutest flower girl you ever saw.

Instead, I barely know ten percent of the people here, and none of them know a damn thing about me.

Hell, even the man I’m about to marry probably thinks my favourite colour is pink, just because I’m a girl.

Narrowing my eyes at the big brute breathing the same air as me, I straighten my spine to make myself a little taller.

“You talk a big game, old man. Be careful not to strain your back.”

JD and Jols snicker at that, but Ringo looks about ready to put me over his knee.

Huh… not sure I entirely hate that idea.

“If you want to act like a little brat, Angel, then be prepared to be treated like one,” he snaps, before turning his dark gaze to his biker mate, Ace. “Get started. I’ve got a bride who’s gagging to get to the part where I fuck her.”

The crowd rumbles with low laughter, and my cheeks flame to life in embarrassment, but it’s Doreen’s scoff that keeps me calm.

“Cameron Eugene, I’ll clip you across the ears. Apologise to sweet Abbey.”

Ringo’s lips twitch into a smirk as he turns back to me. “Hear that, Angel. My ma thinks you’re sweet.” He leans in close, lips brushing my ear. “I bet she wouldn’t think you were so sweet if she knew how I ate your pussy last night.”

Fire.

My cheeks are blazing.

Heat races from my scalp, down my spine and into my toes .

Ringo chuckles as he straightens and motions for Ace to get things rolling, and it takes me way too long to settle the storm in my head enough to focus on what Ace is saying. He must be ordained or something because it all sounds legit to me.

I zone out so much that it isn’t until Ringo squeezes my hand that I realise Ace is talking to me.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What?”

“I asked if you’re ready to make your vows?”

I blink at Ace before darting my wide eyes back to Ringo.

Vows.

Of course there are vows. It’s a wedding.

Shit. Was I meant to write vows?

“She’s ready,” Ringo answers for me when I don’t respond, and I swear I must look like a total bimbo right now.

“Great,” Ace beams, his silver streaked hair tied neatly back at his nape, making him look weirdly civilized for someone in a biker vest. “Repeat after me, together.”

“Together?” I whisper to Ringo, and he nods.

“Together, Angel.”

Clearing my throat, I try to compose myself, unsure if I’ve ever seen wedding vows recited together. Is that an MC thing?

I should have asked more questions before agreeing to this. There’s so much I don’t know. Not just about weddings and being a wife, but about marrying into a lawless biker club.

What the hell do I know about being a biker wife?

Ace starts the vows, so I force myself to listen so I don’t mess them up, and when he finishes speaking, I take a big gulp and glance at my soon-to-be-husband to find his dark gaze already on me.

“Ready, Angel? ”

My heart skips a beat from the tone in his voice and the way he’s looking at me.

I could be standing here marrying Daniel Stone right now. Forced into pledging my loyalty to a vile, cold creature who never once looked at me the way Ringo is right now.

This wedding might’ve started out feeling like a prison sentence… but to say that it’s forced doesn’t quite fit anymore.

If I were given the option of choosing between Daniel and Ringo, there’d be no contest.

Hands down, Cameron Musgrove would win every time.

So, with emotion thick in my throat, I nod at my monster of a man.

With his hair up in a knot, his leather vest sitting over a black shirt with the top buttons undone, teasing me with a hint of his chest… well… I can’t deny he looks sexy as sin, and it occurs to me now why I noticed his trimmed facial hair this morning.

He cleaned himself up for me.

Ace turns the page he’s holding with the vows, offering them if we need to read along, and I scan them again, letting the words sink in, bracing myself to speak.

The moment Ringo starts, I join in, our gazes locked. His big hands cradle mine, his thumbs sweeping across the backs like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever touched.

“Today, we take our vows of marriage before our family and friends. We will honour one another when we are together or apart, and always respect each other’s differences. We will cherish the good times, and endure the storms. Hand in hand. Side by side. Riding this life together and always leaning into the curve.”

The corners of Ringo’s lips kick up like he’s pleased I didn’t fight him or twist the vows like the brat I was before.

Damn.

I actually like that I please him, and realise I want to do more of it.

Don’t get me wrong, I like being a brat too. But there’s just something about pleasing a man like Ringo, that I know I’ll do just about anything to see his stormy gaze soften when he looks at me like that.

“Now, Abbey,” Ace draws my attention. “Please recite this line.”

My gaze drops to the paper he’s holding, and the line highlighted in pink.

Reading over it, I wet my lips before glancing back up at my monster.

“Cameron, when I say I love you, what I’m really saying is that I’ll hold on tight until our ride on Earth ends.”

Emotion slams into me as I finish, my voice cracking, and I find myself wanting to mean every word I just spoke.

Which makes no sense. I know this. I keep reminding myself of this. That what Ringo and I are doing is yet another ruse until this nightmare is over.

Sure, we are attracted to each other. I won’t pretend the moments we’ve shared weren’t real. They’ve felt more real than anything I’ve ever known. But I know he’s just doing this to protect me. So really, I should be more grateful and at least try to be civil about what’s happening here.

As if reading every thought stamped across my face, Ringo’s smile widens, his teeth making an appearance as he lifts one of my hands and kisses it.

“Ringo. Please recite this line.”

Ace’s prompt has Ringo reading from the sheet before refocusing back on me.

His wicked grin should have been warning enough to prepare me for his next words.

“Abbey, I promise to treat you as good as my leather and ride you as much as my Harley.”

A laugh bubbles from my lips as the crowd starts hooting and cheering, and tears spring to my eyes.

Oh my God.

For a moment there, I thought these big, burly bikers were closet poets, what with the vows we recited, but there it is, in Ringo’s words. They are still brutes.

Funny brutes.

As hilarious as that line is, I’ll admit, it’s fitting for my monster of a man. I wouldn’t want him to say anything else.

“JD. Do you have the rings?”

Rings?

My brows shoot up, eyes snapping to Ace before JD steps forward, placing something into Ace’s open palm.

How long have they been planning this wedding without my knowledge?

Long enough to organise wedding rings, apparently.

My anger returns, but it’s short lived as Ace thanks Tups, the MC’s Secretary, for whipping them up last night .

When I glance at Ringo, he’s watching me, amusement tugging at his lips, like he knows exactly how many questions are bouncing around in my brain.

“These rings have been crafted with fortified Tungsten Carbide,” Ace announces. “Symbolising strength and longevity to compliment the union of marriage. They mark the beginning of your long journey together, their circle a symbol of love without end.”

Ace opens his palm, revealing two sleek, black carbon bands. Smooth and polished, each one engraved.

Ringo takes the small one, and gives me a nod, so I take the large one and study it.

Abbey.

My name is engraved on it. Not on the inside, hidden away, but on the outside, for everyone to see. When people see it, they will know I’m his.

Taking my left hand, Ringo slowly slides the ring over the tip of my finger, his dark whiskey gaze locking with mine.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

My breath catches at the rasp in his tone, and given the way his eyes practically drown in mine, I know he’s just as affected by what we are doing.

Slipping the ring in place, it fits so perfectly that I wonder if someone measured my ring size without me knowing.

Glancing at the ring now encircling my finger, I see Ringo’s name is engraved on it for all the world to see.

Mine.

He said that he’d claim me as his, and I guess now he truly has .

I belong to him now. I am his property I guess, given the way the MC works.

With his hand extended, Ringo waits patiently for me to get my head back in the game, so I hurry and slide the large carbon band onto his finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

My voice is much the same as Ringo’s, a little husky, filled with emotion I can’t seem to control.

Ringo shoots me a crooked smirk, adding in a wink as he takes both my hands again while Ace continues.

“Brothers. We chant.”

Before I can process what that means, Ringo drops to one knee.

My hand flies to my chest as my breath catches, quickly noticing every Southern Sadist brother doing the same. Then, in unison, they thump their fists to their chests, their gazes locked onto me, as they chant.

“May the road rise up to meet us. May the wind be always at our backs. May the sunshine be warm upon our faces. May the rain clouds never be black. We are the Southern Sadists MC. Ride ‘em high. Ride or die.”

Tears sting my eyes.

I have no idea if this is something they usually do, or if they all just pledged loyalty to me somehow. It felt like both. But whatever it was, has me choking up .

With another fist thumping over their hearts, they all rise, retaking their positions, and Ringo stands tall, never once breaking eye contact.

My hands are trembling as he takes them in his, and just like that, his touch calms me.

“May your love grow ever stronger as you ride this life together, reflecting the promises you made here today,” Ace declares before he speaks words I didn’t think I’d have to hear for a very long time. “By the power vested in me by the Victorian Marriage Registry, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Before Ace can add anything else, Ringo releases my hands, his big palms sliding around my waist, yanking me against his chest as he claims my lips like they’ve always been his.

Everything falls away.

The claps.

The cheers.

Even the sting of being forced into this.

None of it matters. Not when his lips crush against mine, our tongues clashing as we swallow each other’s moans. Nothing else matters as my skin ignites with sparks of electricity that only Cameron Musgrove can entice.

Cameron Musgrove.

My husband.

“Fuck, Angel,” he groans against my lips, before slowly pulling back to meet my eyes. “You’re Mrs Abbey Musgrove now.”

I smile, biting my lip at how damn proud he looks about that.

“I’m a modern woman. Maybe I don’t want to take your surname,” I tease, but he’s already shaking his head before I even finish.

“No fucking way, Angel. You’re the wife of a Southern Sadist now. We claim our women and fucking worship them. I don’t care how modern you think you are. There’s nothing I won’t do for my wife, and every fucker who fell to a knee will protect you with their own life now. So you will carry my surname with honour, and you will do it with a fucking smile.”

By the time he’s done laying down the law, we’re both grinning from ear to ear. If we weren’t getting swarmed by bikers wishing us well, I’d be climbing this man like a tree and show him just how much I appreciate him.

My thoughts make me giggle, because when did I become so bold?

Maybe it’s from being around someone who put everything on the line for a stranger. Because every passing minute I spend with him, I feel pieces of the old Abbey resurfacing.

“Woohoo, you got fucking married!” JD hoots, practically jumping on Ringo’s back as music floats from speakers somewhere nearby, and the club brothers snatch my man away.

“You know,” Jols bumps her shoulder to mine. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two meant every word of those vows.”

I roll my eyes rather dramatically before we both burst out laughing.

The Doxies gather around, hugging me and offering congratulations, all except Wendy. She stays well away, standing off to the side, watching on with a scowl twisting her face.

“Congratulations Mrs Musgrove.” JD pops into view, startling me, and I laugh at the playful glint in his eye.

Right now, I can see the resemblance to his little brother, Brody.

Leaning close, I keep my voice low. “Like I had a choice.”

“Not one second of what I just witnessed looked forced.” He grins. “If you didn’t want him to know how much you like him, maybe don’t look at him like he hung the bloody moon.”

“I did not look at him like that,” I protest, hands flying to my hips and noticing that now, my fingers no longer dig into my hip bones, but sit out a little further, grazing the curve of my baby bump.

“I agree with Abbey,” Jols backs me up. “It was more like she was fucking him with her eyes.”

I gasp and JD throws his head back laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, so I slap her shoulder.

“Jols! I was not!”

“You weren’t what?” Ringo’s deep gravelly voice has me stiffening as he steps close, and I immediately shake my head in a panic.

“Nothing. We should eat. Are you hungry?” I grab his arm in an attempt to drag him away, but he doesn’t budge.

“She was eye-fucking you through that whole ceremony, man.” JD’s shit-eating-grin has my eyes practically bulging out of the sockets.

“It may have looked like that,” I scramble for a comeback, “but I was actually picturing Harry Styles.”

That sends JD and Jols over the edge, collapsing into each other with full body laughter, tears glazing their eyes.

Risking a glance at Ringo, I find him smirking down at me with a single brow raised.

“I’ll tell you what, Angel. If it’ll make you feel better, when I spread those pretty thighs later and finally sink inside you, I’ll let you call me Harry. ”

“What?!” I gasp, right as Jols and JD go crashing to the ground in absolute hysterics.

It’s hard to ignore them and the attention they are drawing, but I force myself to focus on what Ringo just said.

“You heard me, wifey.” He flashes me the most sinister smirk I’ve ever seen him wear as he leans closer. “We have to consummate the marriage.”

My heart is racing, and my lips part to protest, but Ringo moves faster than my thoughts.

One moment I’m standing, and the next I’m in his arms, being carried away from the crowd and around the edge of the large pond.

“Now, according to Australian law, consummation isn’t actually required.” His gaze flicks to me as he walks, and I clutch to the front of his shirt as he moves us further away from the crowd. “But, since the law I follow is that of the Southern Sadists… Well, let’s just say, I’m making it a thing.”

“You can’t do that.” I giggle, and he raises a challenging brow at me.

“Can’t I?”

Now nearly behind the house, surrounded by trees, Ringo lowers my feet to the ground and nudges me back against a large trunk.

My heart stutters… is he planning on consummating here? Now?

Where people might see?

What if I freak out? Get sucked into a PTSD vortex and create a scene?

Jesus, can I really do this? Have sex? Let him inside my body?

“Stop frowning, Angel. I’m not gonna fuck you out here. ”

“I didn’t… I wasn’t…” I shake my head, knowing full well I’ve just been caught out. “I’m sorry. The whole consummation thing is making me nervous.”

“I know.” Reaching out, his fingers brush along my cheeks, gentle and unhurried. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

My chest squeezes, and something inside me softens as I relax back against the tree, peering up at him.

“I know.”

Bracing his hand on the tree over my head, he leans in, caging me between the rough bark and the heat of his body.

Once, this would have made me feel trapped.

Now, all I feel is owned.

With his attention focused on me, like I’m the only woman in the entire world, his stormy gaze drops to my lips as he wets his own. Slowly, and deliberately.

“What I will do ,” his breath fans over my face, “is make you burn for me , Angel. Hot. Bright. Absolutely fucking searing.” His voice is thick with dark promise that has my knees trembling. “Because I’m not going to fuck you until you beg me for it. And just so we’re clear. That will be happening tonight.”

My lips part as a shaky breath escapes me, my skin already alight, even though he hasn’t even touched me yet.

“What if I’m not ready?” I whisper, barely able to find my voice, and he cups the side of my face, his thumb brushing gently across my cheeks as he presses his forehead to mine.

“Trust me, Angel. You’ll be ready.”

I don’t get a chance to question it before he claims my lips with his.

I moan into his mouth, surrendering to the quiet storm that is us, hidden among trees with a party in full swing in the distance .

When he presses his body flush to me, I shift my legs wider, offering him space, which he takes, without hesitation, grinding the hard bulge in his pants against me.

“Fuck, Angel. I should spank you for being such a brat earlier,” he rasps against my mouth.

“I should spank you for springing a wedding on me,” I counter, pulling back just enough to catch my breath.

Ringo chuckles. “I’m not really the submissive type, Angel. But if you want to call it foreplay, I’ll let you spank me,” his voice lowers an octave. “Just be prepared for what will happen after that.”

My brows shoot up. “What will happen?”

I should know better by now, because his sinister smirk says it all.

I’m in trouble.

“This.”

It’s all he says before dropping to his knees and hitching up the satin of my dress.

“Ringo, what are you—”

My words catch in my throat as he presses an open mouthed kiss right there ! Straight to the centre of my panties, hot and hungry.

I gasp, palms slapping to the rough bark behind me as he urges my legs wider with ravenous hands.

“Wait,” I pant. “We can’t… not out here.”

A low growl rolls from his chest, the vibration of it igniting sparks over my clit, and I lose all train of thought.

“I’m fucking starving, Angel.” He sounds almost feral. “Eating your pussy is the only thing that will sate my appetite right now. ”

My whimper is loud and raw, full of desperation, and I look down to see his eyes gazing up at me from behind the bunched up fabric of my dress.

The only part of his face I can see are those dark dangerous eyes, but just their intensity is enough to undo me.

“Someone will see,” I point out, even as I arch against the heat of his mouth, needing to feel his lips, tongue, any part of him right there .

“You’re my fucking wife now,” he bites out, pulling back only far enough to speak. “I’ll enjoy you wherever and whenever I fucking want. I don’t care who’s around.”

I want to protest, but then he’s shifting my panties aside and gliding the hot silk of his tongue over my seam and I swear, I short circuit.