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He’s not going to do it even though he’s close. Even though his body is pressed up against mine and his hands are in my hair and on my face.

I’m the one who pulls him down to me.

I’m the one who slants my mouth over his and kisses him.

His mouth is fire, like the rest of him.

As soon as I open my mouth, whimpering at the sheer bliss of tasting him, some of that carefully controlled fire spreads to me.

His resolve crumbles, or maybe he was just waiting for me to unlock this in him, to be beyond certain.

His hand slips from my face. He punches a code in at the door and shoves it open. That answers my question about him having a room here.

Strong arms encircle me, sweeping me inside.

He shuts the door behind us, dropping his nose to my neck and nuzzling my earlobe, breathing me in loudly.

He’s all aching tenderness, but his arms are locked tight around me.

Whatever the energy is between us, it’s not all stark desire and sexual tension.

There’s an undercurrent of something much stronger and far more unyielding.

It pulses in my stomach like a second heartbeat, matching the one throbbing behind my ribs.

I’ve never loved a man before.

But I could love him.

So much of me does already. To me, love means trust. It means loyalty. It means goodness. I’m not talking white knight level heroism here. Just everyday, normal, living your life with honesty and integrity.

“You want to stay, I’ll find a way to be happy here. I was wrong about this place, and your instincts were right. I spoke from fear and prejudice, not from any real experience. If you want to leave, I’ll follow you.”

He groans and brackets my head with one hand, guiding me into his chest. I drink him in, soaking up his scent and warmth, my body and my soul growing more and more desperate for his.

As good as this is, I don’t want to just stand here all night.

I break away, walking over to the double bed.

The room is small, though not uncomfortable and certainly not stark.

The clubhouse clearly used to be some kind of factory or warehouse or something.

The exterior is brick. When it was turned into a biker clubhouse, they obviously kept as much of the old look as they could.

There are a few bottles of water on the nightstand. I twist the cap off one and take a drink, then spin around and upend the rest of the bottle over Dravin’s head.

“What the hell?” he sputters, coughing as the water runs over his nose and mouth. He’s frozen for a minute before he shakes his head, sending droplets of water spraying all over the place. He swipes his soaked hair out of his face and snaps his head back.

I break out in goosebumps seeing his snarl, but at the same time, noting the way his lips twitch at the corners, like he expected me to do something crazy.

“You’re hot when you’re wet,” I tell him. “I love that you’re dressed in all black and that you look all menacing and deadly, but then you’ve got water trickling down your temples and you also look good enough to devour.”

I plant my hands on his chest, stand on my tiptoes and arch up, licking from his sharp jawline all the way up to the textured scars on his forehead.

I dip my hand down, tracing the fabric that’s damp in spots over his hard abs.

I linger there, but then tear my touch away and undo my own jeans.

I thrust my hand down into my soaked panties, coating my fingers in my wetness.

I smear it across my mouth as Dravin watches, open mouthed and practically panting.

I surprised him with the water.

I’ve shocked him with this.

He surges forward and claims my mouth, licking the taste of me off my lips, cupping my ass with both hands to grind me against the hard length of his cock. “You taste so fucking good,” he pants murmurs against my mouth.

“You’re the worst Hades ever, because you taste like light and life.”

I wore a sheer black blouse over a black camisole. Maybe part of me wanted to be a little bit edgy because I added a chunky silver chain to my belt loops and one around my neck.

Dravin glides his fingers over it before edging them along the buttons of my blouse.

He starts to undo them, but I’m impatient.

I need his hands on my skin now . I tear it off and throw it to the floor.

I can salvage something out of it. My artist soul won’t let me throw it away. Not when it’s a reminder of this night.

Dravin pushes the thin straps of my camisole down, kissing along my collarbones.

I have no bra on underneath. He doesn’t shed my shirt, but sucks my nipple through the thin fabric.

I whimper, grasping a handful of the wet strands of his hair and shoving my shirt down to pool at my waist, giving his mouth free access to my skin.

He turns his jaw, abrading my breast with his stubble, creating a burn that doesn’t stop at just that spot. It travels down between my thighs, leaving me tingling and so wet that my underwear cling to me.

He teases my nipple, unhurried, but I’m in a damn hurry.

My jeans are already open, and I wriggle my hips and tug to get them down.

I’m wearing these damn chunky high-heeled boots that have zippers and can’t be easily toed off.

I have to shove Dravin away for a second, but it’s worth it to angrily tear those boots off like they’ve personally offended me to my core and to kick my jeans off.

I shove the camisole down my waist, leaving just my panties on.

They’re soaked and wrecked and getting a little bit cold now, but fuck it, I want Dravin to tear them off of me.

He watches me with that heavy lidded gaze that betrays the fact that his one eye is glass and won’t change as the other one does. I love that imperfection. I love that I only ever see it for me. it’s something private and shared between us, something intimate and erotic, like sharing a dark secret.

I press my fingers to my soaked panties and bring them to my lips again, kissing them lightly. “Come tear these off with your teeth and have a taste then.”

“Christ,” he curses, coming at me like a possessed demon. His hands wrap around my waist and lift me easily, propelling me straight to the bed. My back hits the edge and he shoves me on, falling to his knees and wrapping my thighs around his shoulders. “Are you even real?”

“I don’t know.” I grasp his wet hair and roughly tug him to me. “Am I?”

My panties are the sporty kind, a cotton thong that’s more than just a scrap of fabric in the back, with an elastic waistband.

Dravin mouths that thick elastic, trapping it between his teeth and tugs so hard that the other side slips off my hipbone.

He cheats and uses his hands to tug them the rest of the way off, but I’m not mad.

Not when I’m bare and needy as hell, and certainly not when he presses a kiss right to my clit.

I’m ready to curse at him not to be gentle, but then he grasps my ass in both hands and jerks my hips up straight into his face.

He feasts on me, swirling his tongue through my slit, tracing all the way to my entrance and back up to my clit.

He eats me like I broke something in him, and he’s determined to do the same favor for me.

He doesn’t stop, not even when I’m vibrating and rocking against him. He’s the only thing preventing my legs from slipping and turning me into a ninety degree angle off the edge of the bed. I can’t get proper leverage. I’m literally in his hands and he has all the control.

He keeps me raised so he can devour me, but he switches it up, supporting me with one hand while he splays the other on me, exposing my clit so he can lash it with his tongue. He’s unmerciful and unrelenting. All I can do is thrash my head back and forth on the bed.

I palm my breasts, squeezing my nipples as if the electric pleasure shooting from between my legs isn’t enough. My body clenches and all my muscles tighten, locking up, pulsing with adrenaline like I’m getting ready to throw myself into the middle of a bloody fight.

This is war.

This is a battle between me and Dravin, and I know that I’m not going to come out the victor.

“Let me come,” I growl, the pressure building towards something I’m not sure that I can survive.

“No.” He jerks away, purposely leaving my clit alone and teasing my entrance with his tongue. “You wanted the villain. You wanted me to find my balls. You poked the bear. You’re not going to get to come so easily.”

I raise my head and stare at him in delighted surprise. “Ooh, are you going to punish me?”

He raises his head and meets my gaze. “You want to come, you’re gonna have to earn it.”

I know he’s just playing with me, but his scowl is so hot that I just about wreck all his plans and come right there as I think about him toying with me and talking dirty to me.

“Pull my cock out and get it ready,” he commands, but as he pulls away, I don’t miss the look of regret he shoots directly at my pussy, like he wanted me to cream all over his face hands, and it’s taking all his willpower to torture me.

“I’m sure with the state of blue balls you have going on, you’re more than ready,” I sass him back, pulling my legs in and flipping around, scrambling to get my hands on his jeans.

“Now, Kael. Right fucking now.”

I get the button open and wrench down the zipper. Any faster and I’d probably cause his dick physical harm with the zipper. “Or what?” I taunt, purposely pushing his jeans down with exaggerated slowness and leaving his boxers on.

“Or…” His head falls back and he’s clearly struggling to think of something, especially as I close my hand over the hard bulge in his underwear. “God!”