Page 31 of Claimed By The Club

“Yes—” I hiss, my hips rocking against him, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing my pussy through my panties. I’m soaked. I can feel it, the slick heat of me smearing against him, and the way his fingers dig into my hips tells me he knows it too.

“Fuck, Sierra,” he growls, his voice wrecked. One hand slides between us, fingers hooking into the waistband of my pants. “Need to feel you. Now.”

I don’t argue. I lift my hips, letting him strip me bare, and then his fingers are dragging through my folds, circling my clit just hard enough to make me cry out. My head falls back, my nails biting into his shoulders as he teases me, his touch relentless.

“Look at me,” he demands, and when I do, his dark eyes burn with something feral. “I want to watch you come.”

I’m close, so fucking close, but I shake my head, my breath coming in sharp, shallow pants. “No—I want your cock, Carter. Give it to me.”

A ragged sound tears from his chest. He fumbles with his belt, his jeans, and then his hand is wrapping around himself, stroking once, twice, before he’s lining up and pushing inside.

The stretch is exquisite. I moan, my body clamping around him as he fills me, inch by inch, until I’m seated fully in his lap, his cock buried to the hilt. For a second, neither of us moves. We just feel—the heat, the ache, the way our bodies fit together like we were made for this.

Then he grips my ass and lifts me, just enough to drag me back down.

“Fuck!”

The pace is brutal from the start. I ride him with everything I have, my tits bouncing, my thighs trembling as he meets me thrust for thrust. The sofa creaks beneath us, the sound lost under the slap of flesh against flesh, the filthy, squelching noise of him driving into me over and over.

His mouth finds mine again, swallowing my moans, and I can taste myself on his tongue.

“Carter, yes, that’s it! I’m close!”

“Sierra,” he calls out, panting as if chasing that climax.

It’s too much. Not enough. I’m unraveling, my orgasm coiling tight in my belly but suddenly, the door opens. I gasp, my heart jumping in my throat.

Halfway through this urgent dance, the front door creaks open. My heart lurches in alarm, but we’re too entwined to fully separate in time. The silhouette in the doorway belongs to Frost his face partially lit by the pale overhead lamp. My breath stalls and my pussy clenches looking at him.

“Damn, Sierra, you just squeezed my cock. It seems you like having Frost here,” Viper comments, shivering. Nervousness and embarassment wrecks me. I grip his arm, not sure if we should stop.

“Shut up,” I whisper, staring at Frost’s with wide eyes.

A flicker crosses Frost’s expression—surprise, maybe even a brief flash of jealousy.

But the shock fades quickly, replaced by something I can’t quite name.

He doesn’t bolt or yell. Instead, he steps inside, closing the door behind him, gaze locked on us.

My pulse skyrockets, words tangling on my tongue.

Viper tenses under me for a beat, then grins. What now? What should I do? I wonder, my mind running a mile a minute. I need to do something, this silence is suffocating!

I try to move away, but Viper just thrusts slow into me and I remain impaled on his cock.

“Damn it, Viper,” I hiss, my fingers digging onto his shoulder.

Frost remains silent, surveying the scene.

My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but there’s also a spark of adrenaline.

Maybe this isn’t so bad. We’d talked about sharing, about the club’s unorthodox approach to relationships.

Yet having Frost witness me and Viper in such a vulnerable moment is more intense than any scenario I imagined.

Frost crosses his arms, exhaling slowly. “So this is where you two disappeared,” he says, voice low but not angry.

I shift, about to slide off Viper’s lap again, but Frost holds up a hand. The flicker in his eyes suggests he’s having an internal debate. He swallows hard, then speaks in a rough whisper, “Finish what you started. I’m not here to tear you apart.

My stomach flips. I look at Viper, who’s grinning.

Whatever tension in his body eases at Frost’s words.

He glances at me, silently asking if I’m okay.

My heart hammers, but I nod. Relief and a twisted form of excitement swirl under my skin.

In some corner of my mind, I recall how the club thrives on unconventional loyalty, that we might share deeper bonds than outsiders can understand.

Viper’s grip tightens on my hips as I rock against him, resuming our actions earlier, his cock buried deep in my pussy, every movement sending sparks of pleasure up my spine.

The sofa creaks beneath us, the sound filthy in the quiet of the safehouse.

My breath comes in short, sharp gasps, my fingers digging into his shoulders for balance.

“Viper… Frost…” I call out, unable to stop myself. How will it feel if they both touch me? But Frost doesn’t move, just watching intensely but his eyes is so intense, he can see through my soul, fucking it.

“You like having Frost here?” Viper questions, his hips moving softly.

“Please…” I beg, wanting more. “Harder…”

“Hear it, Frost? Our woman wants it harder, I bet she wants you to see her come, don’t you?” he directs the question at me.

A whimper escapes me, liking the idea but doesn’t voice it out due to shyness.

“Show me,” Frosts orders in a husky voice. Hearing it, my pussy creams more. Viper chuckles, and without any warning, he shifts, his hands sliding around to my waist, twisting me just enough so I’m forced to face Frost.

My pulse stutters when I see him—leaning against the wall, his gaze heavy-lidded, his fist slowly stroking his own cock.

He’s watching, and our gazes lock.

I whimper as Viper thrusts up, filling me completely, his teeth grazing my shoulder. My thighs tremble, but I don’t look away from Frost. I can’t. His eyes lock onto mine, dark and hungry, his hand moving in time with Viper’s rhythm.

My pussy clenches at the sight, and Viper groans, his hand trailing to my nipple and grabbing it. My body jolts.

“Fuck Carter… Frost,” I choke out, my nails scraping down Viper’s leg as I hold onto him.

Viper growls against my skin, one hand sliding between my legs, fingers pressing just above where we’re joined. “Look at him,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Let him see how good you take me.”

Heat floods my cheeks, but I don’t close my eyes. Frost’s jaw clenches, his strokes turning harder, faster. The air between us is thick with something unspoken—approval, desire, a twisted kind of belonging.

Viper fucks me harder, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside me until my vision blurs. I’m panting, writhing, my pussy clenching around him as pleasure coils in my gut. Frost’s breath hitches, his grip tightening on himself, and I know he’s close.

“Come for him,” Viper rasps, fingers circling my clit.

“Come, Sierra,” Frost commands, and I let out a screech of utter pleasure as if I’ve been waiting for him to say it.

The command shatters me. I cry out, back arching as I fall apart, my body pulsing around Viper’s cock and he comes inside me, his cum gushing into me. Frost’s groan follows, his release spilling over his fist, his gaze never leaving mine.

When the aftershocks fade, I slump against Viper, boneless and breathless. Frost exhales sharply, his chest rising and falling as he watches us—still there, still wanting.

And for the first time, I don’t wonder if this is wrong. I just know it’s ours.

After a minute or two, Viper helps me straighten, brushing disheveled hair from my face. A gentle kiss lands on my temple. “You okay?” he whispers, voice husky.

I nod, still reeling from the rush. “Yeah,” I manage.

Frost pushes off the wall as if nothing happened, his cock hiding inside his jeans again.

His gaze flicks between Viper and me, his eyes heated.

“I came to tell you both—Knox found more data. We have reason to suspect the traitor might be someone we’re close to.

” His jaw clenches. “They’ve hidden their tracks well, but it looks like a patch member, not a prospect.

But it can also be a cover up or set up to destroy us. We can’t roll out prospects still.”

My stomach churns, the pleasure from earlier clearly forgotten. “A patched member?” That’s worse than we feared. My heart pounds as I think of men I’ve been leaning on for weeks. Which one would betray me—betray the entire MC?

Frost’s expression remains grim. “We’ll do a deeper dive. For now, watch your back. The Reapers might be coordinating with someone who knows your routines.” Then he glances at Viper. “And keep her close. I know you will.”

Viper nods, a solemn promise in his eyes. I see the shared understanding between them. They might compete for my affections in some ways, but they stand united to protect me.

I look down, reality crashing over me. Jen’s link to the Reapers has turned my world upside down. And now a potential traitor within Renegade Cross sets an even darker stage. The fleeting release I found in Viper’s arms fizzles under this new wave of dread.

“What do we do next?” I whisper, voice trembling.

Frost lifts his chin, then steps closer to me, kissing me softly on the lips. “We keep investigating. The next church meeting’s in an hour—come prepared. We’ll figure out who’s behind this.”

With that, he steps to the door, offering a final glance at me, then at Viper. He slips out, leaving us to gather ourselves and face the approaching storm.

Viper’s arms remain around me as I rest my forehead against his chest with Frost’s kiss lingering on my lips.

The aftershocks of our intimate moment mingle with the creeping fear that someone close to us is feeding the Reapers everything they need to destroy me.

This knowledge robs me of any lingering sense of safety, even in the arms of men who’ve vowed to protect me.

He smooths a hand over my back. “We’ll get through this.”

I nod, tears threatening. “But at what cost? If we can’t trust a patched member?—”

He silences me with a gentle press of his lips. “One problem at a time. We face it as a club. You’re not alone.”

I cling to him for a moment longer, absorbing his warmth.

Eventually, we separate, and I fix my clothes, flushing slightly at the memory of Frost’s watchful presence.

Viper helps me stand, securing his belt.

The tension from our shared moment lingers in the air, but the dread overshadowing us won’t wait.

As we leave the safe house, the yard greets us with relentless sun and the hum of anxious activity.

Prospects scurry with messages, patched members huddle in corners, quiet arguments filling the dusty air.

Every face I see could be a friend or the traitor.

My heart lurches at the thought, but Viper’s hand on my back steadies me.

That’s how we head toward the main clubhouse, side by side, aware we’re plunging into deeper darkness.

The traitor’s identity remains a haunting question, suspicion lands on someone we’d never suspect, and the Iron Reapers have all the ammunition they need if we don’t root out the leak.

My breath stutters. I don’t know who to trust beyond these three men—Frost, Ghost, Viper—who’ve each claimed a corner of my heart.

We walk through the doors, and the hum of tension inside intensifies.

Frost stands near the center, exchanging curt words with Ghost. They catch our arrival.

Ghost’s gaze darts to Viper’s protective stance beside me, but he says nothing, only gives a tight nod.

The four of us brace ourselves for the next step in this war, each carrying secrets and desires that both unite us and risk tearing us apart.

Under it all, a single question beats in my mind: who among the people I’ve come to trust is betraying me to the Reapers?

If we can’t find them soon, all of us might pay the price.

And though I draw strength from the unwavering support of these men, fear gnaws at my resolve.

Because if the traitor is someone truly close—someone we’ve shared battle and laughter with—what hope do we have of emerging from this nightmare unscathed?

With that grim thought echoing inside me, I glance at Viper, then at Frost, each offering a nod of reassurance.

Even in chaos, we stand together. For now, that has to be enough.

We have one last chance to expose the turncoat before the Reapers come crashing down on everything we’ve built, and I’m determined to help them do it—no matter the cost.