Page 19 of Fallen Dove (Fallen Lords MC 2nd Gen #1)

Adley

The tires of my car crunched over the gravel of the driveway. I sagged against the seat, bone-deep tired from the shift and from… well, from everything Mason-related that week.

I closed my eyes, meaning to just sit there for a second before dragging myself inside, but the low growl of a motorcycle made my eyes snap open. The rumble rolled up my spine. Familiar and dangerous and comforting all at once.

My breath caught.

A single headlight glowed in my rearview mirror and pulled up close behind my car. I didn’t need to see the man riding it to know who it was. I knew the sound of that bike, the shape of his shoulders, and the way the idle purred like it belonged to him.

Mason.

I pushed my door open and stepped out with my heart pounding. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t have to.

For a second, I wondered if I should explain myself, say something clever, something to lighten the thick air between us. But I didn’t. I just walked straight to him.

No hesitation.

I climbed onto the back of his bike, slid my arms around his waist, and pressed myself against him.

He didn’t speak either. Just started the bike back up, the vibration shivering through me, and pulled us out of the driveway.

The night air was cool. A sharp contrast to the heat of his body beneath my hands. The world blurred past us. Weston’s familiar streets gave way to dark country roads. And then Mason’s hand slid down off the bar and onto my thigh.

A jolt of electricity went straight through me.

His palm was broad, and hot even through the denim of my jeans. He squeezed gently. The message was clear: I belonged here with him. That touch was more than steadying me on the bike. It was a brand. A promise that made me ache in places I’d been starving for too long.

I tightened my hold on him, leaned closer, and my cheek brushing his shoulder. The leather of his cut smelled like smoke and whiskey and Mason. My Mason.

When we slowed and turned, I knew where we were heading before I saw the sign. Point Lake again.

The bike crunched over the gravel of the boat landing lot, the moonlight glinting off the water beyond. Mason killed the engine, and silence pressed in. Just crickets and the lapping of the lake. He swung off, grabbed something from his saddlebag, and shook out a blanket.

“Come on,” he said.

I followed him to the grassy edge near the shore, where the moonlight painted silver across the ripples. He spread the blanket, then sank down onto it. I kicked off my shoes and lowered myself beside him close enough that our shoulders brushed.

The night was beautiful. Still, quiet, endless. But Mason’s presence made it electric.

“Tell me,”

he said after a long moment, eyes fixed on the lake.

“How does it feel being back home?”

I hugged my knees and looked out at the water.

“Different than I thought it would. Quieter. Slower. I like it.”

I turned my head and caught his gaze.

“I like it even more being with you.”

His jaw flexed, like he was holding back a storm. “Adley…”

I shifted closer, and laid my hand on his arm.

“We’ve danced around this for long enough, Mason.”

My voice trembled, but my conviction didn’t.

“You’ve been in my heart for fourteen years. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Something broke in his eyes. Something strong and stubborn, finally gave way.

He reached out, cupped my face in his rough palm, and kissed me.

Not tentative. Not testing. Devouring.

Heat exploded through me as I kissed him back, and slid my hands up his chest to tangle in his hair. His tongue swept into my mouth, and I moaned as I pressed against him like I could crawl inside him.

He shifted, pushed me down onto the blanket, and his body covered mine. His weight was everything I’d ever dreamed. Solid, overwhelming, and safe. His hands roamed under my shirt, as his calloused palms dragged fire across my skin.

“God, Adley,”

he groaned against my mouth.

“You feel like fucking heaven.”

“Then don’t stop,”

I whispered, and tugged at his shirt until I could feel hot skin beneath my fingertips.

“Please, Mason. I need you.”

He growled, low and raw, and kissed me harder. His hips pressed into mine, and I gasped at the hard line of him. My hands fumbled with his belt. My hands were desperate and wild to touch him.

He caught my wrists, pinned them over my head, and stared down at me. The moonlight lit his face, and his eyes burned into mine.

“You sure about this, little dove? Once we start, I’m not letting you walk away again.”

My chest heaved.

“I don’t want to walk away. I want you.”

That was all he needed.

He released my wrists and yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside. His mouth followed the path of his hands kissing down my throat, across my collarbone, and lower still. My bra didn’t last long. The sound he made when he freed me, half curse, half prayer, sent a shiver through me.

“You’re perfect,”

he muttered as his lips closed over my nipple. I arched up, and a cry spilled from me. His teeth grazed lightly, and my hands clawed at his shoulders.

I was lost. Completely his.

My jeans were gone next. Peeled away along with my panties. Cool air hit my skin, but then Mason’s hand was there. Stroking between my thighs, and I was burning again.

“So wet,”

he murmured as he slid a finger into me, slow and deep.

“Jesus, Adley.”

I gasped, clutching at him. My hips lifted into his touch. “Mason…”

He kissed me again, swallowing my cries as his fingers worked me. Pushed me higher and higher. I clung to him, shaking, until release tore through me like a lightning strike.

Before I could catch my breath, he was undoing his jeans, and shoved them down. The sight of him, thick and ready, made my mouth go dry.

He hovered over me, and his eyes searched mine.

“This is it, dove. No turning back.”

I wrapped my legs around him, and pulled him down.

“I don’t want to.”

The first push stole my breath. He filled me, stretched me, and completed me in a way no one else ever had. I gasped his name, and my nails dug into his back.

He stilled with his forehead pressed to mine.

“Fuck. You feel better than I ever dreamed.”

“Move,”

I begged.

“Please, Mason.”

He groaned and started to thrust. Slow at first, then harder and deeper. Each stroke lit me up, pulled me apart, and then put me back together. I clung to him, meeting him as I got lost in the rhythm of us.

The world disappeared. It was just Mason and me, our bodies finally speaking the truth we’d held back for fourteen years. Every kiss, every touch, every thrust was a promise. A confession and a surrender.

We shattered together. Our cries muffled against each other’s mouths, shaking with the force of it.

For a long time, we just lay tangled on the blanket, breathing hard, as the lake whispered beside us.

Finally, Mason kissed my temple and pulled back, reaching for our clothes. The moonlight silvered his skin as he helped me sit up, tender and careful.

I slipped my shirt back over my head, followed by my jeans. He buttoned his own and ran a hand through his hair, as he watched me with eyes that still burned.

I smiled, soft and certain, as I tugged my shoes back on.

“I think we just broke every rule you made for yourself.”

He chuckled low, and leaned in to press a kiss to my lips.

“Worth it.”

The night wrapped around us, quiet and perfect, as we stood on the shore of the lake where everything had finally changed.