Page 21
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T he way I’m fucking salivating to eat her cunt. Fuck. Nothing has ever consumed me more than this need. To taste her again. To bring her to the brink and help her crash over the edge while revelling in her juices.
Again.
It was one thing to taste her fingers that time, back at the Western, but last night, sliding my tongue between her pretty pink folds nearly fucking undid me.
I should be punishing her for lying to me about picturing Harry Styles. I know she wasn’t fucking picturing him. I was the only man she was seeing. I’ve seen that look in her eyes before, and it’s never been about anyone else. Just me… just us.
“Ringo,” she whimpers from above, pressing her head back against the tree as I devour her clit like it’s my favourite fucking treat.
And fuck. It is.
Her sweet nectar rushes into my mouth, and as I pull back to look at her perfect pussy, I replace my tongue with my fingers, flicking them over her swollen little nub.
“Fuck, Angel. You’re so wet for me. How long have you been like this?”
Instead of answering, she squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head against the tree.
“I asked you a question, Angel.” I pull back, removing my fingers, and just like that, her caramel eyes snap open. “Answer me.”
Deliberately licking my lips, I tease her with the hint of my tongue, her eyes tracking the movement before shifting to my beard, which is already glistening with her slickness.
“Ever since I woke up.” Her sweet voice is fucking gravelly, her arousal wrecking her in the best way.
“Even when you were arguing with me about becoming my wife?”
Her gaze drops to the ground beside us as her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Fuck… that won’t do.
“Eyes back on me,” I snap, and just like that, her pretty orbs are locked onto mine, just the way I like them. “Answer my question.”
To encourage her, I slide my fingers over her wet seam, spreading her slickness around her clit and applying a little more pressure.
“Especially when I was arguing with you,” she rushes out, her lids growing heavy as she watches me.
Just what I thought. My Angel gets aroused when we face off.
“You like riling me up, don’t you?” I ask, and she nods, biting her lip.
I know how hard it is for her to speak the truth, so for her honesty, I decide to reward her.
Surging forward, I glide my tongue over her needy clit in one long, filthy stroke.
She cries out, arching into me, greedy for more, so I go to fucking town. Licking. Sucking. Sinking two fingers deep inside her until she’s crying out so loud, there’s no fucking way Ace—who’s still just around the corner waiting for us on the deck—didn’t hear.
Knowing he can hear me pleasure my wife makes me want to pound my fucking chest like a savage. It’s a fucking honour. And my Angel is the only person I will ever drop to my knees for.
As she writhes, grinding her mound against my face, her tight walls grip my digits like a fucking vice. She’s hot and wet and soft inside, while her clit swells under my tongue. I flick it and lick it and suck it with a hunger that has her breaking apart in seconds.
Her pulsing cunt drags my fingers deeper, and fuuuck, all I can think about is burying my cock inside her and staying there until she milks me dry. I want to fill her with so much of my DNA that it leaks out of her for hours, while the rest of it gets absorbed, claimed by her body, like it fucking belongs there.
Fuck.
There’s just something about the idea of having my DNA mixing with hers, becoming part of her.
“Cam,” she whimpers, her fingers fisting in my hair as she tries to push me off .
But I can’t fucking stop. My tongue keeps tormenting her sensitive little nub.
I’m fucking addicted.
Her grip tightens, trying to shove me back, her hips writhing like they want to get away… but then they hesitate, like they’re not sure if they want to escape.
Chuckling low, I decide to stop teasing her. We’ve got a fucking wedding celebration to get to, so the real fun will have to wait until later.
Easing back, my eyes meet hers, heavy with lust, and fuck me, she’s so fucking stunning like this.
“You drenched my hand again, Angel.” I smirk, and her eyes widen a little as her lips part to apologise, but I stop her, curling my fingers still deep inside her, dragging a squeak from her throat. “Don’t you dare say sorry.”
Sucking in her lips, she breathes heavily through her nose and nods quickly, so I ease the pressure off her swollen and extra sensitive g-spot, and slip my fingers free.
Her caramel orbs lock onto my glistening fingers as I hold them up, and with a shit-eating grin, I proceed to lick them clean. One by fucking one.
She bites her lip, watching like I’m sucking honey off my digits, her chest rising and falling quickly like the sight is turning her on… again.
“You know what I think?” I ask, tugging her panties down until she lifts each foot so I can slip them free.
“What?” she breathes so quietly I barely hear it.
“I think my wife is a dirty girl. I think she secretly gets turned on by the filthiest stuff, but she’s just too embarrassed to admit it. ”
Abbey parts her lips, ready to protest, but then frowns and snaps her lips shut.
Then she shrugs.
I chuckle, using her panties to dry off my fingers.
“Fuck yeah. My old lady is a dirty little whore .”
She stiffens, going completely rigid, her eyes blowing wide with what can only be described as horror.
Shit.
One hand raised, I stand slowly as I tuck her panties into my pocket, watching panic flicker across her face.
“Angel, I’m sorry,” I rush out, realising I fucked up.
In my world, chicks love being called a whore, and for a hot fucking minute, I forgot Abbey’s not from my world.
Shaking her head frantically, her eyes dart everywhere but never land on me.
I know that look.
She’s gearing up to fucking run.
Trying to think quickly, I do the only thing I can and reach out, pulling her to my chest, ignoring her immediate reaction to pull away, her soft whimper breaking something in me.
“Don’t run from me again, Angel. I’m sorry. I fucking forgot… for a minute there, I fucking forgot.”
“Why would you say that to me?” Her words are muffled against my chest before she shoves me back, and I fucking let her. “Why would you call me that?”
“Fuck, Abs, I’m sorry.” I go to rake my hand through my hair, but instead find it fucking tied back. “Chicks in my world dig that stuff. It’s a turn on for them.”
As I reel, Abbey’s mortified expression hardens into something else entirely… anger .
“Chicks in your world?” she scoffs. “I can’t imagine anyone wants to be called a whore, Cameron. But for argument’s sake, even if they do, what the hell makes you think I’m anything like them ?”
Her voice rises, sharpening with each word, her whole body vibrating with the rage she feels.
“Because I’m your wife now? Is that it?” she snaps. “Now you can treat me however you want?”
Fuck. I guess now’s a bad time to admit that her anger is making me even harder than I was a minute ago.
“No, Angel. Fuck. I really didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
Angry tears glaze her eyes as she glares at me, fists balled at her sides like she’s ready to use me as her own personal punching bag.
And fuck… I’d let her if I thought it would help.
Quickly stepping away from the tree, she gives me her back, wrapping her arms around her middle, like she’s trying to shield her baby… from me.
Jesus! Fuck!
Furious at myself for being such a thoughtless idiot, I blow out a sharp, frustrated breath, hoping like hell I can make this right.
Stepping up behind her, I watch her stiffen the second she feels the heat of my body at her back.
“Did they call you that, Angel?”
I hate having to ask. I hate even more that I already suspect the answer. But I need to know. I need to be sure so I don’t trigger her again.
A shudder rolls through her, shoulders slumping as her head dips forward, her eyes locking on the leafy ground in front of her .
Then she nods.
I. AM. SUCH. A. FUCK. UP!
I already figured they used the word, cunt , given her reaction that time in my bed. And now, I know the word whore is a trigger for her, too.
“Abs, I’m sorry,” I rasp, reaching out to gently grip her hips as I lean in close to her ear. “I’m so fucking sorry. I know there’s still so much I need to learn about you, but I swear, I never meant it maliciously. It was dirty talk. I didn’t think. I swear to you, I’ll never fucking use the word again.”
So quickly, she spins, arms flying around my neck like her body needs me before her brain can catch up.
On instinct, I lift her. She wraps herself around me, burying her face in the crook of my neck.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I want to give you what you want. It just took me by surprise.”
My arms weave around her, holding her so fucking tight like I’m scared she’ll crumble away and float off in the breeze.
My hard on is long forgotten, replaced by a heavy, aching truth I can’t keep pretending isn’t there.
This isn’t just about protecting her. This isn’t just about friendship. Hell, it’s not even about lust.
Abbey is quickly becoming the very air I breathe.
“No need to apologise, Angel. I just need to learn your triggers so I don’t fuck up again.”
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers this time, squeezing my neck tighter. “I don’t want to be like this.”
Gritting my teeth, my rage bubbles just beneath the surface. I need to find those motherfuckers. Hunt them down and kill them, so I can bring my Angel some fucking peace.
“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with you. You hear me?” I rasp, my voice laced with fire. “You’re so fucking strong for surviving what you have. And look how hard you’ve been fighting to protect your baby. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a fucking warrior.”
Slowly, her death grip around my neck eases, and she shifts back just enough to look into my eyes.
“I don’t feel like a warrior.”
Reaching up, I stroke some of her pink-tinged hair off her face.
“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes,” I tell her, my voice rough with truth. “You’d never doubt it again.”
“I wish I could too,” she whispers, “I’d like to feel as strong as you say I am.”
My chest fucking aches at the disbelief in her tone. She really doesn’t see it. Doesn’t see the power she carries with every breath.
But I do. And I’ll keep reminding her, every chance I get.
Deciding I want to talk to her properly, I walk us over to a large boulder by the water and sit my arse down, adjusting her on my lap so she’s facing me.
“Let me ask you this,” I ask, soaking in her caramel orbs and the uncertainty I see in them. “What was it that changed in your life that made you start fighting back?”
She frowns, slowly shaking her head. “I didn’t fight back.”
My brows hitch.
“You don’t think what I walked into that night in your bedroom, covered in your own blood, and holding a fucking lethal shard of glass fully prepared to attack, wasn’t fighting back?”
Her frown deepens, her gaze dropping to my chest as she thinks over this .
“Something changed, Angel. Because for months, you endured what your family did. You endured that fuckwit. You endured what his dead-men-walking mates did to you.”
“Well… I couldn’t let them near my baby,” she deadpans, and I nod.
“Exactly. You stayed all that time. Took the pain. Lived in it. But the moment the pain of knowing you couldn’t let them near your baby was greater than what you’d already endured, you started fighting back.”
She blinks a few times, her frown returning. “I couldn’t even do that right. I still needed help, I—”
“Needing help doesn’t make you weak, Abs.” I cut her off, not wanting her to fall into that spiral. “And look at how far you’ve come. You don’t need to swing fists or wield a weapon to be strong. You just need to keep fighting. Just like a fucking warrior.”
For a long moment, she just stares at me, like she’s trying to see past my eyes and into the soul behind them.
“Did I marry a poet?”
Her words catch me off guard, and a laugh escapes me, the rumble of it enticing her lips to kick up too.
“No one’s ever called me a fucking poet before, Angel.”
She casually shrugs a single shoulder.
“I’m starting to think all you biker men are secret poets, if those wedding vows are anything to go by.”
I can’t stop fucking smiling, which is fucking weird. I can’t remember the last time I smiled this fucking much.
“The Southern Sadists might be full of brutes and thugs and burley-as-fuck criminals, but one thing we do fucking well is taking care of our women. ”
Now she’s frowning again, looking at me like I’ve lost my fucking shit.
“You might want to tell your President that. He’s married to Jols’ mum, yet spends all of his time with Celina. And Celina takes second chair to his dog Molly.”
“The situation with Jols’ mum and Smitty is different. She didn’t marry him for love. It was more about protection, and keeping a watch over Jols after what happened to her.” I pause, my lips twitching into a smirk. “Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s batting for the same team now.”
Abbey’s brows shoot up, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Right, well. What about Barts? As far as I’ve been able to make out, he’s in the dog house with his woman.”
“You know about Barts and Natasha?” I ask, because how the fuck does she know that?
“Jols and I came across him one morning when we were leaving the laundry room. She was scolding him for being drunk.” Abbey shrugs casually.
“Well, Barts has an addiction problem. With these fucking lockdowns, it’s been hard as hell to get him the help he needs.”
“And what about Brody?” she continues, determined to prove me wrong. “He treats women like they are pieces of meat.”
I cringe. “Technically, he’s not a Southern Sadist until he patches in. If he ever gets his shit together long enough to get a fucking invitation. So Brody is not a good example, Angel.”
She opens her mouth, probably to add another club brother to her list, so I press my hand over it, cutting her off.
“Stop trying to prove me wrong,” I mutter, releasing her mouth and brushing my thumb across her jaw. “You haven’t seen the married members, because most of them stay home with their wives and kids. They don’t need to party their days away or crash at the clubhouse. They show up when they’re needed, and help run the business side of things. So trust me Angel, married Southern Sadists take care of their women.”
“So, since we’re married now, we don’t need to go back to the Western?”
“No.” I shake my head, easing her down off my lap. “The club is laying low for a while, until we sort out the Officer Allen situation. Half the men are heading to our northern chapter. The rest are moving to the new property we’ve just acquired.”
Abbey stiffens, her eyes wide as she stares at me.
“You mean… the property in Fox Pines?”
“Yeah, Angel. The old Vixen’s Lodge Estate.” I rise, straightening out my clothes and brushing the dirt off my knees from before.
“Are we… going there too?”
Fuck. Her voice is so timid. I knew she’d be nervous about returning to her hometown, which is why I’ve made other arrangements for her.
“You will stay here with my ma and sisters.”
“Me?” She frowns, confusion clouding her features, and like a fucking coward, I avoid her gaze. “You’re not staying with me?”
Sighing, I take her hand, finding a slight tremble in it that wrecks me more than she’ll ever know.
“I need to help my club, so I’ll join them in a week or so.”
“And I’ll stay here?” she snaps, and fuck me, now she’s pissed again.
How do I keep fucking this up? We’ve been married for less than an hour, and I swear I’m about to get served divorce papers.
“I’ m not taking you to Fox Pines until it’s safe, Angel,” I try to explain. “There’s nowhere to sleep there yet. My club brothers will start converting shipping containers into livable spaces. Once it’s safe, we’ll go together.”
“Right,” she snaps again, her voice sharp enough to cut. “So I’ll stay here and behave like a good little wife, while you head off to Fox Pines with your club and the Doxies to do God knows what.”
My frown is so deep it fucking hurts, but the second I give the smallest nod, my wife is already storming off towards the barn.
“Where are you going?” I snap, fucking annoyed, more at myself than anything.
“To find Wendy,” she snarls over her shoulder.
Wendy? Did I hear that right?
“Why the fuck do you want to find that bitch?”
I nearly crash into her when she stops abruptly and spins back around, stabbing her finger to the centre of my chest.
“If you think I’ll stand by and turn a blind eye while you fuck Wendy behind my back, you’ve got another thing coming!”
“What the fuck!” I bark, snatching her finger in my grip because, Jesus fuck , her relentless poking is starting to bruise. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“She told me all about you and her, Ringo.” She snatches her hand away, eyes blazing.
“I’ll ask again,” I grit out, “what the fuck are you talking about? There is no me and her .”
The way my Angel props her hands on her hips and glares at me like she’s ready to throw down, has my fucking cock twitching .
“Really? So you don’t go to her begging to sink your cock into her diseased… cunt .”
My brows shoot up so hard they disappear under my damn hairline for a thousand fucking reasons.
One being that she just said the word cunt , which I know is a trigger for her. I suppose it could depend on the context it’s used, though.
Another is because, what the fuck is happening right now?
“Angel. You’re starting to piss me the fuck off,” I grit through my clenched teeth. “Why the fuck would you think I’d put my cock anywhere near that bitch?”
“She told me.”
“Uh-ha.” My voice drops as I lift a brow. “And what else did Wendy tell you?”
Her anger falters as her lips seal shut.
“Abbey. Tell me right fucking now .”
Those caramel orbs drop to the ground between us, so I snap my fucking fingers in front of her face.
“Eyes back the fuck on mine.” When they dart back, I snarl. “Fucking tell me.”
She doesn’t even flinch at my harsh tone, her own anger still there, and I fucking love seeing her fight for something she cares about.
“Wendy said you’ll get bored with me. That you don’t do sweet . That I’m too vanilla for a man like you.”
I fucking growl. “Anything else?”
“She said you…” She shrugs, almost like she’s unsure she should keep speaking, “like it rough. That you like to choke your women until they stop breathing. That you fuck them after they pa ss out. She said you like being in full control of their body, so you can do whatever you want, without them saying… no.”
WHAT. THE. FUCK!
I am absolutely fucking fuming.
“Is that all she said, or is there more?” I ask through gritted teeth, my fists balled so tight I wouldn’t be surprised if my nails are drawing fucking blood.
This time, when my Angel answers, her fire is back.
Lifting her chin, her glare burns through me, and she speaks so fucking clearly there’s no way I can misunderstand a single fucking word.
“Wendy told me not to go crying to her when I marry you thinking I’ve nailed you down, only to find out she’s your old lady. That while I’m playing house with you, when you go back to the club, you’ll be, and I quote, ‘balls deep’ in Wendy’s arse.”
My nostrils flare, and my chest heaves, rising and falling so fast I can barely fucking breathe.
“I’m going to FUCKING KILL HER! ”
My roar echoes across the property. Raw. Violent. And feral. And Abbey lets out a shocked squeak as I spin and storm off towards the fucking barn, ready to do exactly what I just fucking promised.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21 (Reading here)
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- Page 27
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