Page 15

Diletta

T he hours pass, but I don’t feel cold or uncomfortable on the back of the motorcycle. Gunner blocks the wind for me and his leather jacket does the rest, cutting the cool air. My jeans and ankle boots also help. Even so, I would have suffered any amount of cold to give this to the man in front of me. I can feel the tension unspooling out of him with every passing mile.

We left Hart behind and drove an hour, skirting around Seattle. Everyone in this state and probably a good portion of the country knows about the Cascades. I was a little surprised that we headed in the direction of the mountain range, given the touristy vibe. We might be a few months away from summer, but the weekend added to the traffic in the city. It didn’t clear out much after we were past, climbing up the twisting mountain roads.

I kept waiting for the exact moment we’d find some backwoods path. I knew the whole time that a place special to a man who grew up the way Gunner did, had to be lonely, haunting, and remarkably beautiful.

Silence, in a sea of noise.

There’s a great difference in being lonely and being alone, and as soon as we break through the clearing in the woods after ambling down an ancient, hard-packed dirt road that looked like it was probably impassible up until some of the brush was tackled back, I know that the beautiful log cabin is one of those spots that is pure magic.

Gunner stops the bike, planting his feet firmly on the ground. It rumbles on for a minute before he kills the engine.

It’s afternoon now, the sun bright and hot above us. It feels warmer than it is because somewhere along the way, we lost the cool breeze. The trees stand quiet and unwavering, their leaves quiet.

“It was an old trapper’s cabin,” Gunner explains. He can’t keep his emotion from roughening his voice. “Tyrant bought it, and we renovated it ourselves as a club. It’s a favorite spot for the old ladies and their kids. It’s been a hard year and coming up here is an escape. Any one of us can use it for a number of days if we want. This will be the first summer it’s been finished and it’s probably a guarantee it’ll be packed full of kids right through until winter comes.”

I finally unclasp my hands but leave them lingering on his hips. It’s a glorious privilege to be able to touch this man. “I take it that the fact that we’re here means you’re okay with the club?”

He shucks his helmet, and I pass him mine. “I nowhere near deserve it.”

I slide off the bike, which involves a whole lot less grace than I would like and walk around to the front. I slam my hand up in a stop motion. “Don’t get off. I need to show you what you deserve.” I remove one of the gold foil packets from my pocket. He shifts back on the bike and my eyes drop straight to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I borrowed a few of these.” Ella was kind enough to get me five of them from her and Raiden’s room at the clubhouse.

He gags.

“I mean I’ll buy them a box or something. Borrowed was the wrong word.”

I let my eyes travel over his body, drinking him in, worshipping him because that’s what he deserves. To be seen and appreciated. Wanted. Desired. Loved.

Loved.

Holy god, I’m halfway there already.

He deserves to be free. Free from the shit in his head and the danger out there. I know it’s insane, but maybe not so crazy when you really think about it, that I could imagine a future. A day at a time has never been so true, but the yearning for more is already strong.

“I’m going to fuck you on that bike, Gunner.” I’m already working my way out of his leather jacket. “Is that even possible or will it fall on us?”

He frowns. “I would never let it fall. That’s sacrilege to a biker.”

“And you are one? That’s not just a cover story?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I am one. I belong. They’re my family.”

This man who is usually stoic and strong, safeguarding his identity, but also his heart, suddenly bears an expression of wounded awe. He believes what he just said, but at the same time, he still can’t believe it.

I unzip the leather jacket. His hand reaches inside and lands on my arm, grazing along my skin, creating a series of goosebumps and flames. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Yeah?” I step back, shedding the jacket, my sweater, and my shirt while he watches, his eyes roaming over me, eating up my every movement.

They’re so raw. He’s torn inside. I know what it’s like to have that big, gaping hole there, but I have no idea to the extent that he does. I was loved. I had family. He’s just learning what that means.

He tore us both open when he told our stories. I should feel like a bundle of exposed nerves too, but I know that our secrets stop with the club.

“Holy fuck,” Gunner curses, eyes hot on my black lace bra.

I have the matching panties on under my jeans. I can’t wait until he finds those too.

“Take the contacts out. Please.” I want to see his real eyes darken like they did last night.

He straddles his bike, a giant in leather, his jacket gaping open, the t-shirt below clinging to his hard abs. His jaw clenches, but he removes the contacts, slipping them into the pocket of his jacket. He won’t use them again, but he doesn’t want to leave any trace of himself behind.

Gone are the cold blue and in their place, the softest, warmest brown. Dark and deep, like my own.

“Your jacket and your shirt too.”

“You want to objectify me, Dil?”

The familiar use of my name fills me with heat, arrowing straight between my thighs. It’s the hot possessiveness on his face that does me in.

I nod, biting down into my bottom lip to keep my shit together.

He sheds the jacket and reaches up at his neck, hauling his shirt off. The movement makes his glorious, naked body ripple. The scars don’t shock me the way they did the first time. He’s never going to be anything but a dark and wounded, gorgeous god to me. He leans back on the bike with feigned casualness, muscular thighs straining his jeans, abs popping out, the deep V outlined and arrowing straight into that faded denim like a welcome sign.

My nipples harden in my bra. I’m not ready to be fully naked yet. We might be in the middle of nowhere, but I need a second.

I leave my bra on, toe off my boots, and skim my jeans down my legs. Our gazes lock, the heat intense, the air stormy even though there’s nothing but blue skies above us.

Oh, yes. Gunner likes the matching black panties with the delicate floral lace.

He likes more than that. He can’t stop his eyes from tracing over my body. They’re hot velvet on my skin, lit up and intense. His tongue traces over his bottom lip slowly, unconsciously, like he’s imagining licking me from head to toe and one very specific spot in between.

I brush my fingers over my panties, parting my legs to give him a teasing show. His body tenses on the bike, the veins in his forearms popping out as he grips the handlebars, not so casual now. More like he could get that bike propped up and standing on its own in an instant while he comes over to tackle me to the ground, spread my legs wide, tear my panties off, and eat me to kingdom fucking come like he did last night.

“What are you sorry for, Gun? Trying to leave? Trying to abandon me after you wouldn’t leave me alone? For being obsessed only when it doesn’t count? For giving me heaven with a plan to leave me alone after? That’s called being a tease. I think it’s quite unforgivable.”

I know why Gunner was going to leave, but I still want to make him pay for ever thinking that he could.

“You wanted to save me.” I slip my panties aside and run my fingers over my own soaked slit. I’m so hot from seeing Gunner half naked on that bike, balancing all that chrome and steel like it weighs nothing. “I don’t need saving. Not from myself. Not from you. Not by you. I did once and I’ll always thank you for it, but we’re not back there now. I want to hear you say that. Say you were wrong.”

He remains silent, warring with himself.

I bury my fingers inside my tight heat, thrusting up and brushing my clit at the same time. Hours of vibrations from the bike didn’t leave me dry, that’s for sure. My head falls back, and I let out a gasp of pleasure. None of it’s a game. I withdraw them and bring them to my lips, licking my juices off one finger, then the other.

“Tell me you were an idiot for thinking that you knew what I needed, when all I need is you .”

“We both know it’s more complicated than that,” he groans.

“Is it?” I brush my fingers over my clit, whimpering at the shockwave of delight that makes my legs watery. “You were going to disappear into the night instead of giving us a chance to fight for each other.”

“You don’t know me. No one really does. I’ve never given anyone a chance.”

I get serious, brushing my hands over my stomach and hips, arching my body in a slow writhe to showcase all my curves. “Is your cock aching watching me, Gunner?”

A muscle in his clenched jaw ticks. His knuckles whiten on the handlebars. I look straight at his jeans, right at the bulge that’s probably pounding.

“Do your balls ache just as badly? If you’d left, you wouldn’t have even had a clue that your club would have stood by you. Your problem isn’t the danger. It’s the fact that you think you know what’s best for everyone else. You think that they couldn’t possibly care. You think that you’re not worthy. You’ve miscalculated. Would you like me to tell you how?”

His eyes narrow. He’s almost done playing this game. I’m surprised he’s held himself in check this long. It would have been blisteringly hot to be tackled down to the grass about five minutes ago and I’m the one losing patience even though we need to do this. Doing it playfully is the best way I can think of to say what needs to be said.

“Lean back and take yourself out. I want to watch you stroke your beautiful cock. If you do, I might consider telling you.”

His lips part, taken aback at being the one ordered around. Big, bad, mean bikers with a rough past don’t let women tell them what to do.

Gunner does.

He arches back, bowing into himself as he supports the bike. He undoes his jeans slowly, but not provocatively. It’s so hot watching him pull his zipper down and reach inside that I’m the one aching, barely able to stand, barely able to stand him not being inside of me.

He frees his cock, the tip swollen and shiny with precum. My insides pulse.

Open for business, sir.

His hand slowly slides along his length, smearing some of that wetness down his massive length. He’s thick with a few veins. He has a beautiful cock, especially painted in the golden glow of the sun overhead, looking like a barely contained feral beast on that bike.

His eyes crash back to my face. He’s no longer inside of himself. He’s slightly smug, like he knows how hard it is to stand here craving him and not get up on that bike and sink him to the hilt inside of me. I must have zero control of my expressions.

“What were you going to say?”

My mouth is completely dry. “I…”

“How have I miscalculated?” he prompts savagely.

I snatch up the gold packet from my discarded jeans and saunter to the bike, trying to play it hot and cool. It’s ridiculous. At the moment, I have zero chill.

“You’ve underestimated me and everyone else, for one. But the real mistake?” I stand right in front of him, close enough for him to grab me. He keeps his hand on his cock, the other splayed over his granite thigh. “You underestimated your own worth. I want you to promise me that you’ll never do that again. You’re so much more than where you started and where you came from. You’ve never been nothing, and you never will be. Do you hear me?”

He pumps his dick, his face a mask of agony as he slides his hand along his length, circling the red tip. There isn’t a single bit of my anatomy that doesn’t feel that burn the same way.

I get close enough to lean against the gas tank. I nearly cry out in relief as his hands grasp my hips and he uses his brute strength to lift me and heft me up over the bike. I give him some help, launching off the ground and using my core strength to help him position me over the bike. I straddle his lap and grasp his shoulders, crawling over him. It’s not graceful, but I don’t care.

I roll my head back and dig my nails in when I feel his erection, thick between my thighs. He holds his cock there, his tattooed palm around the base.

“You messed up, thinking that I couldn’t handle this. That I couldn’t take care of myself. That I couldn’t kick ass. That I—”

Gunner leans in, so close, so threatening, so promising, that I lose whatever I’d been about to say. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that he’s here, right now, and that I need him inside of me or I’m going to die. He stops when his lips brush against mine, but waits, inhaling me like he’s soaking up my breath, my scent, my essence.

I dig harder into his shoulders, clawing him to me.

His mouth finally claims mine. He kisses me so hard that I nearly flip backwards off his lap, but his hand comes up fast, bracing against my back, then fisting in my hair. He holds me tightly while he kisses me into oblivion. He doesn’t hold back, whether he finally believes what I just told him, or he knows that I’m strong enough to handle every bit of him. He kisses me like he wants to own me, but he doesn’t demand it. I part my lips and give it to him freely.

He’s so hard, throbbing against my stomach. He still has one hand on the base of his cock. I wrap my fingers around his, pushing down on his jeans and boxers, making sure his fly is well away from his sensitive skin.

He kisses me harder, his tongue thrusting into my mouth, taking, owning, claiming. I whimper at the sweet intrusion, at the delicious taste of him, at the way he fucks my mouth like a sweet foreshadowing of what he’s going to do with his cock right away.

When it’s too much and I need air, I pump my hand down the length of him, working his tip with an even tighter first, and break the kiss, giving us both a second to pant and gasp for air. I nip his lips and lick along the bite mark, before shamelessly running my tongue over his stubbled jaw and down his neck. I suck along that hard column before I bite his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he hisses, but I’m not sure if it’s my teeth, my tongue, or my hand jacking him that does it.

I have no idea where the condom is, then realize I dropped it between us when he hoisted me onto the bike. It’s still there, the gold corner peeking out from under my leg.

I slip it out, tear it open, and get it rolled down his length.

“Thank the fucking universe. All I’ve been thinking about is your cock for the past twelve hours.”

“Yeah,” he grunts, his caveman out in full force.

I’m not eloquent at the moment either.

“I’m going to ride you better than you’ve ever ridden this bike.”

We look at each other for a split second, my head jerking up at my attempt at dirty talk. He grins. I giggle. He sobers in an instant. “It’s not… Gunner. When you come, I want you chanting my name. My real name.”

“Yes.” I wriggle in his lap. I realize how wet I am, leaking through my panties onto his jeans. A name is a sacred thing, having lived as Haley Black for the past five years I know how it feels to keep a part of you hidden. “Have you told anyone what it is?”

“No. When I started living on the streets I took another name, my real first name made me stand out too much. It didn’t take me long to get a fake ID and later, I bought something ironclad. That’s who I became, Rocco Lombardo, but it’s not who I am.”

“You want me to say it?” That’s such an honor that it hurts to catch my breath. It hurts my stomach and my chest and makes me want to roar at the world in retribution for the pain it caused this man.

He kisses the shell and breathing out so softly. “I’m Ronan. Just for you. Only for you.”

His name. Him. I don’t care which he means.

I’m so far gone.

Both right now and in every other way.

I grasp his cock around the base again and widen my legs. My other hand is at his shoulder for support. He pushes my soaked lace panties to the side. There’s not much there to begin with. He leaves his hand, pulsing against my thigh, as I position myself on him and sink down, allowing the tip of him to stretch me. It’s so good. So big. It burns exactly the way I’ve been craving.

I should go slow, take him like someone who doesn’t want to wreck herself, but I do. I want to wreck myself with this man.

I ram him all the way home in an instant. The intrusion makes me gasp. It hurts like a mother until I wriggle and rock forward. My body doesn’t need to adjust to him. I mean, yeah, okay, it does and it will, but it also feels like I was made for him. The hurt is sweet. I wouldn’t mind it if I could feel him for hours.

Days .

I clench all around him, then slowly rock. It’s an awkward position and he needs his feet planted firmly on the ground to keep us balanced and upright, but his hands grasp my ass cheeks. I work with him as much as I can, the seam of my panties and the edges of his jeans getting in the way, but it’s so hot. It’s even hotter when he guides my hips up and down to meet every one of his thrusts.

I grasp his hair and bring his face to my breasts. He tugs down one of the bra cups with his teeth and then the other, freeing my breasts just enough that they bounce with every rough movement.

He licks me there, his mouth so hot in contrast to the breeze that blows over my skin. I love the way it caresses my skin, the play between hot and cold.

His cock is so thick inside of me that I can barely breathe every time he fucks me up and down his length. I arch into him, letting him claim and mark me. He licks my breasts, sucks the nipples, brushes his stubbled jaw over them, scrapes his teeth over my sensitive skin, his cock causing pleasure so hot and wicked inside of me that I probably won’t survive the onslaught. I might talk a big game, but I’m half boneless already. I throw my head back, letting him support me, giving him a little bit more space so he can hit even deeper.

I’m going to come. I want to hold it back, but it’s hard when he’s as wild as I am, somehow fucking me with all his strength and power behind every thrust and holding up a Harley at the same time.

His mouth ravages mine. He’s entirely the one in control, setting the pace. I’m so lost, on the edge, heading straight into that blissed out territory. He kisses me just as hard as his fingers dig into the soft skin of my hips.

He leans back even further, the bike solid beneath us, and lets me grind against him. When I lean forward, his dick stretches me even harder, even though I’ve been taking him this whole time. I’m able to grind my clit against him. It sent me straight to the edge.

“Not yet,” he grunts. “Not fucking yet, Dil.”

He hoists me off his lap and sets me on the ground. I wobble a step, getting my legs back from their rubbery state.

While I stand there wondering why he’s shifted me off him, he kicks the bike into freestanding. He toes off his boots and rips down his jeans and boxers.

He looks over at me with those soulful, dark eyes, but right now they’re blown out and predatory.

Run.

My instincts scream at me and I take off, my hair fluttering, ass and legs pumping, probably the most absurd sight in my half-undressed form, laughing wildly at the challenge.

Like in all the bad horror movies, Gunner—no— Ronan catches me within a few strides which as I’m not really running isn’t a surprise. His huge, naked body is on top of mine, tackling me down gently into the grass. His arms wrap around my waist and one palm smooths up my back, forcing my face down into the fragrant green grass. I didn’t know grass could smell this good without it being cut. I was wrong. It’s fresh and wild.

I groan as soon as he puts both of his calloused palms on me, his fingers spanning my ass.

“Spread your legs like a good girl. I want to see how wet you are for me.”

I force my legs further apart, digging my knees into the ground. I arch into my arms like the perfect yoga pose, sticking my ass up in the air.

Ronan kneads my flesh. “So beautiful, vita mia ,” he groans, sounding half broken.

My nails dig in tighter, the scent of fresh dirt rising up by my face. Of all the endearments he could have used, he’d pick the one that means my life.

He’s behind me, his hands spreading me open for his tongue. It’s hot and sudden and makes me cry out in surprise. The sound echoes around us in the clearing. He doesn’t stop at licking my pussy. He goes higher, opening me and licking in all the other taboo areas. His other hand slips under me and works my clit, giving me far too much of the forbidden and the wonderful all at once. I feel like I’m drowning, and I’ve never been happier for the waves to come consume me.

“Touch your clit for me.”

My hand moves down on command, stroking it in tiny circles. Even that feels oversensitive. I back off a little, but then come back as he licks me over that other bundle of nerves.

I’m just able to glance between my spread legs to see him working his cock with his hand, up and down the impressive length and thickness, overtop the condom.

“Can’t wait to claim you here one day.”

He spits on my asshole, which should make me shrivel with distaste, and then his finger is there, running over that tight ring of muscle. He stops stroking his cock and pushes two fingers inside my pussy, scissoring them apart so I have the thickness I’ve been missing since he withdrew his cock, and then crooking them to try and find my G-spot.

The world goes inside out, and I see stars in the grass. I haven’t come yet, but I don’t even know what to do. I’m almost at oblivion, drowning in sensation, all of it so strong it’s almost impossible to keep my sanity and keep feeling it all at once. It’s impossible not to. He keeps me right there with him, right on the painful edge.

“Ronan,” I pant, his name sacred and beautiful in my mouth. It’s something he kept hidden and sacred and solely his. It’s such a beautiful treasure he’s given me. “Turn me around. I want to see you when I come.”

“I thought you wanted to be fucked into the dirt.” He pretends to be callous, but I can hear the emotion shaking his voice. “We both know I’m nothing to look at.”

I crank my head around and grin wickedly at him. “If you think that, then I haven’t done a good enough job with my compliments. You’re lovely.” He snorts, but I catch the hint of a grin. “I like that you’re huge and stacked. I love your muscles, your scars, your tattoos.”

“You’re into the bad boys.”

I flash him a dazzling smile that he can’t help but respond to. “I’m into you and only you. I’ve never known a more beautiful man in my life. You’re like this fine work of art, but the artist knew what real life was like. He grew up rough and he wanted the world to relate and so he created this masterpiece.”

Crack.

Ronan’s huge palm smacks across my ass. I yelp, even though the spank didn’t really hurt. It might make my cheek red, but all it did was sting a little.

“Here I am paying you compliments, and you decide to punish me?”

“I’ll punish you, cara.” He flips me over and lifts my legs, then pushes them back, opening me to him.

And the rest of the world, but there’s nothing out there but sky above us and grass beneath us.

He palms his cock, wrapping one hand around the base. He pumps himself hard once, twice, and then lines himself up with my entrance.

“ Dio mio ,” I whimper, waiting for that massive invasion to wreck me.

He grasps my chin. I shift my eyes from the clouds to his hard face and his soft brown eyes, blissed out and shiny. I’m doing that to him. I’m the one who he wants to fuck, who he can’t resist. I’m the one he wants to own and be owned by. It’s a heat of the moment thing, but I’ve never felt like I have a greater purpose than being with him right now in this way.

That scares the ever-loving shit out of me.

“You asked to see me, you’re going to watch me. You’re going to keep your eyes on me when I make you come, and when I reach that breaking point, you’re going to know that it was all you.”

He thrusts inside, but not brutally. He might give me dirty words, but he takes care with me. I still cry out, jacking off the ground, grasping his shoulders.

“Harder,” I pant. “Fucking harder, Ronan.”

I should be careful what I ask for, but holy freaking fuck, maybe not.

I’d rather throw my head back and grasp the grass, get my hair filthy with the earth, get it under my nails, and let him fill me and sate the burning need I’ve felt since I saw him standing outside in the rain, so big, so broken, so utterly mine. I wasn’t ready to claim him then, to be responsible for him, but I’m ready now.

The outside doesn’t dampen the sound of our fucking. If anything, it’s magnified out here. Every whimper, every moan, the sound of our skin slapping together, Ronan’s hard breaths.

I do as I was instructed and keep my eyes on him. He works his hips in perfect time with mine, finally letting my legs down so I can roll them up and grind them into him. His thrusts are brutal, filling me so hard that I can feel the friction between me and the grass. It’s going to be totally flat. I’m sorry in advance for the body shaped grass trauma I’m going to cause.

He breathes harder and faster, in time with his wicked thrusts. I’m so there, but I want to wait for him.

Ronan’s hips slam into mine, again, deeper, harder. Exactly the way I want him. He drives himself so deep on the last thrust that everything goes hazy.

“Come, Dil. I want to see you break apart.”

He keeps up the punishing rhythm but presses two fingers hard to my clit in a firm pinch.

“Oh my god!” I scream.

“My name on your lips and my name only,” he commands like a total Neanderthal, and nothing has ever been so hot than the beast stripped down, feral and wild as the woods out there above me.

I barely keep my eyes open as I come. The pleasure is blinding, and my scream shatters the somewhat peaceful calm of the clearing. It echoes through the woods and strays to the fresh mountain air.

I want him to come inside me. That’s what the condom is for.

He pulls out instead, rips the thing off while the pleasure is still rolling through me, shaking my limbs and rattling my teeth, scoring me to the bone.

He jacks himself, but he’s already there. The first pump makes him come in hot, thick white jets all over me. It’s so primal that a louder declaration and a hotter brand couldn’t possibly exist.

My rapid breaths make a mess of the wetness. It slips off my belly and mound and leaks down my sides.

“You ass!” I can’t keep the laughter inside. “We had a perfectly good condom. You didn’t have to make a mess of me. Please don’t tell me that the only way to clean myself up is a fresh mountain stream that’s absolutely frigid or some bushcraft fuckery.”

“I like your filthy mouth. Perfect for a kindergarten teacher.”

“Hey. It’s the weekend. I’m off duty.”

He takes his palm and starts to massage his come into my skin.

“Seriously, tell me there’s a shower here.”

“There’s a shower.”

“Do you mean that?’

He lifts me off the grass and heaves me into his arms and carries me into the cabin. “The place has all the modern amenities while keeping the rustic charm. We have a guy in the club, Mason. He was an architect before he got bored with that and needed something else. That’s what he said about the place when he gave us the design at one of our meetings. There’s a propane tank in the back, hidden away in the trees mostly. The hot water on demand, the stove, and the furnace all run on it. There’s also a legit old woodstove we moved up here. It took six guys to haul it in.”

I hear what he’s saying, I really do, but it’s the sound of his voice that I find soothing. Combined with the post orgasm bliss and the fact that he’s carrying me bridal style into one of the most romantic places I’ve been to in years, I zone out, sinking deeper and deeper into the moment. I want it to last forever.

Ronan breaks it by setting me down in the bathroom and disappearing just long enough to flip whatever breakers or switches on.

For a cabin that wasn’t sprawling or anything, the bathroom is quite large. It’s rustic alright, with slate tiles on the floor, tongue and groove cedar on the walls, a huge jet tub, a copper sink, and a big glass shower. It’s all very lovely, but it can’t hope to compete with the man who steps back inside with me. I watch him shamelessly as he moves around, muscles working like a symphony under his skin.

I’m already anticipating the water pouring over his delicious body and me licking off every drop.

“Get in,” Ronan instructs softly after testing the temperature of the spray.

I give him the bossiest pose when he moves to the door, to hide how incredulous I am. There’s no way I’m going to shower alone. One orgasm? Nope. I’m too greedy for him to be sated already.

“Where are you going?”

“To take care of the litter on the lawn. Not leaving that out for some unsuspecting bird or squirrel to nab.”

Oh. Oh my. Just when I didn’t think this man could get nay hotter, I find out he’s funny . I need to get in the damn shower and turn that spray to cold. It might help with my self-control, and I’d rather save the hot water for when he joins me.

I have a feeling we might be in here for a while.