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nineteen

Meadow

A Week Later

The sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across Mason’s sleeping form. I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, marveling at how peaceful he looks in slumber. The hard edges of the dangerous biker are softened in the morning light.

It’s been a week since we left the clubhouse and moved into Mason’s house. A week since Peterson and his twisted family met their brutal end.

I’ve taken time off from the hospital, needing space to process everything that’s happened. The quiet of Mason’s home has been a balm to my frayed nerves. Here I can finally breathe.

Mason stirs, his eyes fluttering open. A slow smile spreads across his face as he focuses on me. “Mornin’, beautiful,” he rumbles, voice rough with sleep.

I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Morning, handsome.”

His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “How long you been watching me sleep, creeper?” he teases.

I laugh, swatting playfully at his chest. “Not long. Just enjoying the view.”

Mason’s eyes darken with hunger. “Oh yeah? See something you like?”

Before I can respond, he rolls us over, pinning me beneath his solid weight. His lips find my neck, trailing hot kisses along my skin. I arch into him, all thoughts of getting out of bed flying out the window.

Later, sated and boneless, I curl into Mason’s side. His fingers run through my hair, the gentle touch soothing.

“You okay?” he asks softly. It’s become a familiar question over the past week, one I appreciate more than I can say.

I nod against his chest. “Yeah. I think… I think I’m ready to go back to work soon.”

Mason tenses slightly. “You sure? There’s no rush, Meadow. Take all the time you need.”

I push up onto my elbow, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’m sure. I can’t hide away forever. And honestly? I miss it. Helping people, making a difference… it’s who I am.”

Mason searches my face for a long moment before nodding. “All right. If you’re sure. But promise me you’ll take it slow? And if it gets to be too much…”

“I’ll tell you,” I finish, leaning in to kiss him softly. “I promise.”

The women that the MCs rescued have all moved on; we reunited them with their families and we got them set up with a therapist.

The media has gone crazy with the disappearance of Peterson and his family.

Police have investigated and nothing ever turned up. I want to ask what they did with the bodies but I do know the MCs invested in a funeral home years ago.

He scoots closer to me, his hand rubbing my stomach. We are both completely naked, not bothering to get dressed after a night of sex.

Mason’s hand trails lazily along my side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The warmth of his body pressed against mine is comforting, grounding.

“You know,” he murmurs, lips brushing my ear, “if you’re going back to work, we should probably celebrate your last day of freedom.”

I turn in his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? And what did you have in mind?”

A wicked grin spreads across Mason’s face. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

His hand slides lower, fingers dancing along the curve of my hip. I shiver at his touch, heat pooling low in my belly.

“Care to share?” I breathe, already arching into him.

Mason’s response is to capture my lips in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, stealing my breath. When we finally part, both panting, his eyes are dark with desire.

“How about I show you instead?”

In one fluid motion, Mason rolls us over, pinning me beneath his solid weight. His lips trail down my neck, scruff scraping deliciously against sensitive skin. I gasp as he finds that spot behind my ear that drives me wild.

“Mason,” I moan, fingers tangling in his hair.

He chuckles against my skin, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. “Patience, darlin’. I’m just getting started.”

His mouth continues its torturous journey south, mapping every inch of my body with lips and tongue and teeth. By the time he reaches the apex of my thighs, I’m a writhing mess beneath him.

“Please,” I whimper, beyond pride or shame. “I need you.”

Mason’s eyes lock with mine, dark and hungry. “As you wish.”

He slides his hand between my legs. I feel unnaturally wet and I look at his hand to see its covered in blood.

I gasp dramatically. “Oh my God, I started my period.” I try to scramble out of the way so I don’t ruin the bedsheets.

Mason’s hand stills for a moment, but the hunger in his eyes doesn’t diminish. If anything, it intensifies. “Is that all?” he murmurs, voice low and husky. “You think a little blood is gonna stop me from pleasuring you?”

I blink in surprise, heat flooding my cheeks. “But… the mess…”

Mason silences me with a kiss, deep and possessive. When he pulls back, his grin is downright predatory. “Darlin’, I’ve been covered in far worse. This? I love it.”

His words send a shiver through me, arousal coiling tight in my belly despite my embarrassment. Mason’s clean hand cups my face, thumb tracing my bottom lip.

“Let me take care of you,” he says. “Let me make you feel good.”

I nod, unable to form words. Mason’s smile is triumphant as he slides back down my body, settling between my thighs.

His fingers return to my heated flesh, exploring with gentle precision. I gasp as he finds my clit, sensitive and swollen. Mason works me with practiced skill, building the pleasure slowly but steadily.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough with desire. “Let go for me. Wanna see you come apart.”

His words drive me closer to the edge. I writhe beneath him, chasing the building pressure. When Mason slides two thick fingers inside me, curling them just right, I shatter.

My back arches off the bed as waves of ecstasy crash over me. Mason doesn’t let up, working me through every aftershock until I’m a quivering mess.

As I come down from the high, I expect Mason to pull away. Instead, he surges up, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

“Still want me?” he asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back.

In answer, I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Always,” I breathe.

Mason pushes inside me in one smooth thrust. We both groan at the sensation. For a moment, we’re still, savoring the feeling of being so intimately connected.

Then Mason begins to move, and any coherent thought becomes impossible. I cling to him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck, Meadow,” Mason groans, burying his face in my neck. “So perfect. So fucking perfect.”

His words push me toward another peak. I can feel it building, coiling tighter and tighter in my belly. Mason’s movements grow more frantic, his own release clearly approaching.

“Come for me, baby,” he urges, voice rough with exertion.

Mason’s words push me over the edge. I cry out, body arching as another intense orgasm crashes over me. The rhythmic clenching of my inner muscles triggers Mason’s release. He buries himself deep with a guttural groan, his body shuddering against mine.

For long moments, we lay tangled together, breathing heavily. Mason’s weight is comforting, grounding me as I float in post-orgasmic bliss. Eventually, he rolls to the side, gathering me against his chest.

“You okay?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I nod, snuggling closer. “More than okay. That was…”

“Fucking incredible,” Mason finishes, a satisfied grin in his voice.

I laugh softly, swatting at his chest. “Cocky much?”

“Just stating facts, darlin’.” His hand trails lazily along my spine. “You sure you’re all right, though? I didn’t hurt you?”

The concern in his voice warms my heart. I push up onto my elbows, meeting his gaze. “I’m perfect,” I assure him. “A little sore, maybe, but in all the best ways.”

Relief flashes across Mason’s face, quickly replaced by that familiar heat. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Before I can respond, he’s rolling us over again, pinning me beneath his solid weight with my face buried in the mattress. His lips find that sensitive spot behind my ear, drawing a gasp from my throat.

“Mason,” I breathe, already arching into him. “We should probably shower…”

He chuckles against my skin, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. “Oh, we will. Eventually. But first…”

His hand slides between my thighs once more. As Mason proceeds to thoroughly wreck me all over again, I send up a silent prayer of thanks for waterproof mattress protectors and washing machines.

Mason’s strong hands grip my hips as he positions himself behind me. I arch my back, pressing into him with eager anticipation. His fingers trail along my spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice low and rough with desire.

I feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at my entrance. With one smooth thrust, he sheathes himself inside me completely. We both groan at the exquisite sensation.

Mason sets a steady rhythm, his strokes deep and measured. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure radiating through my body. I push back to meet him, desperate for more friction.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, his grip on my hips tightening. “Take all of me.”

The new angle allows him to hit that perfect spot inside me with each thrust. Combined with the increased sensitivity from my period, the pleasure is almost overwhelming. I clutch at the sheets, muffling my cries of ecstasy in the pillow.

Mason’s pace increases, his movements growing more urgent. I can feel my own release building, a tight coil of heat low in my belly.

“Come for me, Meadow,” Mason demands, voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Want to feel you come around my cock.”

I cry out as waves of bliss crash over me, my inner muscles clenching rhythmically around him, with Mason following after me.

After a moment, Mason eases out of me carefully. As he does, I feel a warm trickle down my thighs, a mixture of our combined fluids and my blood.

Mason presses a tender kiss to my shoulder blade. “You okay, darlin’?” he murmurs.

I nod, too blissed out for words. Mason chuckles softly, his arms wrapping around me as he pulls me against his chest.

“Come on,” he says, nuzzling my neck. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

The hot water sluices over us, washing away the evidence of our passionate morning. Mason’s hands roam my body, his touch far from innocent.

“Insatiable,” I accuse, though there’s no heat behind the word.

Mason grins, unrepentant. “Can you blame me? Have you seen yourself?”

I roll my eyes, but can’t help smiling. His enthusiasm is infectious. And if I’m being honest, I’m just as hungry for him.

As we dry off and dress, a comfortable silence settles between us. It’s moments like these—the quiet, domestic intimacy—that still take me by surprise. How easy it is to just be with Mason.

“What are you thinking about?” Mason asks, catching me staring.

I smile, crossing the room to wrap my arms around his waist. “Just how lucky I am. How happy you makeme.

Mason’s arms encircle me, pulling me close against his solid chest. His eyes soften as he gazes down at me, a tender smile playing at his lips.

“I’m the lucky one, darlin’,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Never thought I’d have this. Didn’t think I deserved it.”

I tilt my face up, meeting his gaze. “You deserve everything, Mason. All the happiness in the world.”

For a moment, vulnerability flashes in his eyes. Then he’s kissing me, deep and passionate, pouring all his emotions into the embrace. When we finally part, both breathless, Mason rests his forehead against mine.

“I love you, Meadow,” he says softly. “More than anything.”

“I love you too,” I whisper back.

We stand there for a long moment, just holding each other. It’s still hard to believe sometimes—how far we’ve come, how much we’ve overcome. But here we are, stronger for all of it.

Eventually, Mason pulls back with a sigh. “As much as I’d love to spend all day in bed with you, we should probably eat something.”

I laugh, swatting playfully at his chest. “Are you saying I’ve worn you out, old man?”

Mason’s eyes darken with heat. “Not even close, sweetheart. But you’re gonna need your energy for what I’ve got planned later.”

A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine at his words. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, lips brushing my ear. “Gotta make sure you remember who you belong to before you go back to work. Wouldn’t want any of those doctors getting ideas.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m unable to stop the way my breath catches. “As if I could ever forget.”

Mason grins, satisfaction clear on his face. “Good. Now, come on, let’s get some food in you.”

Mason leads me downstairs to the kitchen, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back. As we enter, I’m struck once again by how at home I feel here. It’s only been a week, but already Mason’s house feels more like home than my apartment ever did.

I settle onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island, watching as Mason moves with easy confidence around the space. There’s something incredibly sexy about seeing this dangerous man so domestic.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asks, opening the fridge. “I could do pancakes, eggs, bacon…”

My stomach growls at the mention of food. “All of the above?” I suggest with a grin.

Mason laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. “Your wish is my command, darlin’.”

As he starts gathering ingredients, I can’t help but reflect on how surreal this all feels. A month ago, I was living in constant fear, looking over my shoulder at every turn. Now, I’m sitting in the kitchen of a man I love more than I thought possible, feeling safer than I ever have.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mason’s voice breaks through my reverie.

I smile, meeting his concerned gaze. “Just thinking about how much has changed. How happy I am.”

Mason’s expression softens. He sets down the whisk he’s holding and comes around the island, pulling me into his arms. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, Meadow,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I lean into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent. “So do you, Mason.”

He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his large hands. The intensity in his eyes takes my breath away. “You are my happiness,” he says softly. “Everything I never knew I needed.”

Emotion wells up in my throat. I rise to my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his in a tender kiss. When we part, Mason’s eyes are dark with hunger that has nothing to do with food.

“Keep looking at me like that,” he growls, “and breakfast is gonna have to wait.”

I laugh, pushing him playfully toward the stove. “Food first. I’m going to need my energy, remember?”

Mason grins, the promise in his eyes sending a shiver down my spine. “Oh, I remember. Don’t you worry about that.”

As he returns to cooking, I can’t help but marvel at how perfect this moment is. The man I love, making us breakfast in his kitchen.

The way he looks at me, how safe he makes me feel? I never want this feeling to stop.