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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Jigsaw

After all the punishments I survived as a kid, I never thought I’d be able to stand someone hovering, tending, and fussing over me. Sure, I’ve been knocked around in plenty of fights and stupid shit. Had club girls tend to me with their fake concern and ulterior motives.

But Margot taking care of me with her soft hands, sharp tongue, eyes full of fire and concern—it’s not just bearable.

It’s fucking intoxicating.

I haven’t stopped thinking about what Wrath said.

Lock her down for life.

Giving her my property patch? That’s a no-brainer. But that’s only a commitment on my end. Lets every biker we meet know I’ll yank their spine out through their mouth if they so much as touch her.

Outside the club, it doesn’t mean shit.

If I want her for life, Margot will expect a ring. A wedding. Marriage. Shit I never thought I’d want.

But now?

Every time I think about it, there’s no fear, no revulsion.

Just peace.

The way she slit the throat of the guy who stabbed me—Next. Fucking. Level. I know what she’s capable of, seen the evidence hanging in her closet. She’s told me all her dark secrets.

Seeing it in person?

Watching her glide that blade across his throat like it was nothing—calm, precise, controlled. Like she was buttering toast, not taking a life.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t care that my brothers were watching.

It did something to me.

Something primal.

Possessive.

She took a risk. A big one.

Now my club knows—without question—what lengths she’s willing to go.

For me.

Then she served us homemade bread.

She’s violence wrapped in sweetness.

“How’s my favorite patient?” Margot’s warm voice pulls me from my dark thoughts.

She’s leaning in the doorway, still dressed in the soft gray blouse and slacks she threw on earlier to meet a client downstairs.

“Better now.”

“Um, what have you been thinking about?” Her gaze drops pointedly.

I glance down at the tented sheet covering me from the waist down.

“Huh.” A huff of a laugh escapes me. “I was thinking about you, actually.”

“Really?” She toys with the top button of her blouse, slipping it loose with a flick of her fingers.

I push my palms into the mattress, shifting upright until I’m sitting. “Get those clothes off.”

Laughing softly, she finishes unbuttoning her blouse, then turns around, dropping it slightly, giving me a glimpse of bare shoulder.

“Off,” I growl.

She still moves too slowly. Teasing the hell out of me. Stripping piece by piece until she’s down to just her bra and panties.

My blood’s on fire. Cock at full attention now.

She slides over to the side of the bed, standing just out of reach.

“I should look at your leg first.”

“It can wait.” I flip the sheet back. “Get in here.”

She climbs in carefully, every movement cautious but deliberate, as if she’s afraid one wrong move will rip open my stitches.

She kneels beside me, eyes locked on mine. “Now what?”

Margot

“Make out with me.” His voice is low, rough, and the warmth of his palm gliding up my thigh has the power to unravel me.

So gentle yet commanding.

My heart kicks harder at his simple request. I lean in, brushing my lips over the stubble on his cheek.

“Little more,” he murmurs, voice even raspier now. One strong arm hooks around my waist and his hand curves over my butt in a possessive squeeze that sends heat straight through me. “Come here.”

“Where?” I whisper, my gaze flicking down to the bandage on his thigh. “I don’t want to hurt your leg.”

“You won’t.” His fingers tighten at my waist, dragging me closer with the kind of strength that makes my stomach dip and flutter. “Straddle me.”

I shift with care, my knee brushing the edge of the bandage. My weight settles across his hips, and heat flares between us, low and deep.

“Better?” I ask, anchoring myself with my hands on his shoulders.

His lips quirk in that devilish half-smile that always melts me. “Getting there.”

A low, gravelly hum vibrates in his chest as he cups the back of my head and pulls me down.

His lips crash into mine, stealing my breath and sparking a wildfire under my skin.

Heat surges through me, deep and urgent.

I slide one hand to the nape of his neck, leaning in, careful to keep my legs steady and avoid bumping his wound.

His hands roam over my back, confident and warm, until he finds the clasp of my bra and pops it loose. I laugh softly against his mouth, breaking the kiss for a second to rest my forehead against his. My breath mingles with his, and the heat between us simmers higher.

“What do you want?” I whisper, not because I can’t guess—but because I love hearing it from him.

He presses a kiss to my cheek. Then my lips. His mouth is soft, but his fingers are sneaky, sliding the straps down my arms with deliberate ease.

“Your tits in my hands.”

The blunt honesty sends a zing through me, sharp and sweet. The cool air kisses my bare skin just before his hands replace it—hot, rough, greedy.

He groans low in his throat and palms my breasts, thumbing my nipples until I gasp.

“Much better.”

I hiss in a breath and reach behind me, wrapping my hand around his length through the thin fabric of his shorts.

“Fuuuck.” His hips twitch beneath me. He sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, tongue flicking over it in slow, reverent strokes. A low groan rumbles in his chest and his eyes squeeze shut like he’s hanging on by a thread. “Take me out. Please.”

I cup his face between my hands and tip his head up, forcing his gaze to meet mine. His eyes are glazed with need—but still so focused on me.

“Will you behave?”

He frowns, as if it’s a foreign concept. “How?”

“Let me take care of you.”

He cocks his head, breath ragged. “Be my guest.”

I ease off his chest, kissing and licking my way down his stomach, slow and unhurried. He’s all mine to explore. When I reach the waistband of his shorts, I run my tongue along the edge, teasing the sensitive skin just beneath.

His abs tense. “Stop fuckin’ teasing me, woman.”

He hooks his thumbs under the waistband and lifts his hips, a challenge in his eyes.

I sit up straighter, placing a palm on his stomach. “You promised to behave.”

He lets out a low, frustrated growl and lets his hands fall to the bed, fingers curling into the sheets. “You want to taste me?”

“Mmmhmm.” I trail one finger along the waistband, slipping it just beneath the fabric, watching the way his muscles tense and jump in anticipation.

“Then do it,” he rasps, voice low and wrecked with need. For me.

A thrill shivers through me. This strong, powerful man is trembling under my hands.

“You want to rub my cock between your tits?” he asks, voice sharp and jagged.

“I will if that’s what you want.” I ease the waistband down, letting the elastic drag against his skin. His cock springs free, thick and hard. I wrap my hand around him, drinking in the way he shudders under my touch. “I’d do anything for you.”

Our eyes lock. He cradles my chin and strokes his thumb along my cheek. “I know.”

He’s so solemn, I don’t think we’re only talking about all the ways I’m willing to please him anymore.

“Get these off,” he pants.

He arches his hips just enough for me to slide his shorts down. I keep my grip on him, one hand stroking slow and steady as I work the fabric past his legs. He kicks them away, gaze never leaving me—like I’m the only thing that exists.

I wet my lips and lower my mouth, swirling my tongue over his tip.

“Fuck, yes,” he hisses.

I suck just the tip inside, and his hips jerk, seeking more. A moan escapes me as I take him deeper.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants between choppy breaths. “Come here.”

I pull off slowly, hand still stroking, spreading the wetness from my mouth over his length. “I’m right here.”

He slides down on the bed and taps my hip. “I want your pussy in my face.” His fingers curl under the band of my underwear, tugging hard.

Laughing, I sit up and shimmy out of them, letting them fall to the floor. “Better?”

“Perfect.” His eyes are wild, hungry. He licks his bottom lip, then grins. “Come on. Let me eat your pussy while you suck me.”

When I hesitate, his grip tightens on my hips, dragging me closer. “It only seems fair.”

“Okay, okay.” I laugh, breathless with heat blooming under my skin. “How do you want me?”

“Put your legs on either side of me.” He shifts beneath me, guiding me into place. “There ya go.”

His hands splay across my ass, thumbs parting me. “Fuck,” he groans, lips grazing my inner thigh before sweeping his tongue between my legs.

My thighs tremble. “Oh?—”

“C’mon,” he urges, voice full of desire. “Let’s see who comes first.”

I already know I’m going to lose. Every stroke of his tongue sends jolts through my body, and I’m shaking, gasping, barely keeping upright.

Still, I wrap my hand around him again, determined to try. Bracing myself on one arm, I crawl forward, careful of his leg. No teasing this time—I lower my mouth, open wide, and take him in.

He lets out a muffled groan that vibrates against me, sending a shiver straight through my core. I tighten my grip around him, sliding my hand down his thick length, following with my mouth.

Another desperate sound escapes him, buzzing against my skin. His hips jerk, pushing more of himself into my mouth.

He flattens his tongue against my clit, dragging it side to side in a steady rhythm. I gasp around him, the sensation too much and not enough. Still, I keep stroking, stretching my mouth wider to take more of him.

His fingers slide along my slick skin, teasing, circling, then finally pressing inside.

I gasp, choke, and pull off, resting my cheek against him while still lazily sliding my hand up and down.

“What’re you doing?” he rasps, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh as he keeps moving his finger in and out of me—slow, steady, relentless. “Keep sucking.”