Page 5 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

Marcus

I kicked the stragglers out a little after midnight. I didn’t fucking work at The Clutch and I didn’t owe my brother a late shift.

Besides, I had something better to do, and she was sitting at the bar, looking like she was thinking about leaving.

As I moved around the bar, turning off lights and picking up chairs, my body twinged. Practice today had been brutal. I’d planned to head back to the Hellions’ dorms, sit in the hot tub for a little bit, and sleep it off.

Instead, thanks to fucking Cole, I was here.

Still, maybe I had something to thank my brother for after all. Once the lights were off, the bar was the solitary bright spot in the dim light. It shone on the birthday girl’s head, a caramel halo.

I got closer. She twisted around on the stool and shoved to her feet.

“I should go. I just wanted to say thanks for tonight,” she breathed.

She’d had a couple of drinks, enough to pry her shoulders from under her ears, but her eyes were bright and clear. She stared up at me. The woman who’d teared up at a slice of apple pie with a candle for a birthday cake. The one who saw colors in music.

“Wait for me to finish locking up, I’ll give you a ride,” I told her.

She shook her head immediately and backed away. “No, it’s fine.”

I stalked after her toward the door and rested a palm on the handle when she reached it. I’d already locked up, so there was nowhere for her to go.

“No, it’s not. I drive you, or you don’t leave,” I told her calmly.

She smiled faintly and tipped her head to the side. “I don’t leave? And where would I go? Are you offering your back room for a reasonable rent? I would actually take you up on that,” she rambled.

I reached out and slid my hand around the back of her neck. She froze.

With a tug, I turned her, pushing her back against the door and moving my hand to the front of her neck. Her pulse beat wildly under my hand.

“You know we’re going to fuck, don’t you? You know it, and I know it… and I’ve been waiting for fucking hours for it.”

My words sent heat flooding up her creamy cheeks. It stained down her neck, and I used my other hand to tug down the neckline of her tight little top so I could see if that delicious color continued down to her tits.

It did. Fuck, I was hard, and I’d been hard since the back room, when she’d pulled my hand onto her thick, juicy fucking thighs and touched me so carefully. I’d been ready to fuck her since she’d insisted on patching me up.

People generally didn’t worry what happened to me. Not my jailbird father, not my MC pres older brother, and sure as shit not my mother, who’d run off when I was eight.

Arianna’s breath caught. I trailed a finger up the middle of her cleavage. She had tits for days. Tits to get lost in, and I couldn’t wait to be the man who explored them.

It had been longer than I could remember since I’d had a conversation in the bar about anything more than tits, ass, and motor oil, and then in walks this stunner.

Dangerously curvy, hockey fan, and knew music.

She was mine from the second she’d sat down, and every biker with half a brain in the bar had known it.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” she breathed, her eyes dark and excited.

“Say, ‘Yes, Marcus, I’ve been waiting for you to fuck me all night,’ because anything else would be a lie.” My lips curved in a wicked smile at the way she shivered beneath my touch.

“I…” she started and stopped herself. Seeming to take hold of her confidence, she tipped her head back and nodded. “I don’t do this kind of thing.”

Her sweetness was written all over her. Yes, she didn’t strike me as a one-night hookup kind of girl, but that was fine. I’d be her first.

“Oh, I know, beautiful, believe me. Still, it doesn’t mean you don’t want to.

I know you want to, and since I enjoy being right, let’s check.

” I lowered my hand to the loose, boxy office skirt she had on.

The woman hardly seemed to have any clothes in her size; everything was either too small or too big.

She smelled of secrets. That was fine by me.

I had my own. She was free to keep hers.

I inched her skirt up.

“Stop me if you don’t want me to get you off right here and now, birthday girl,” I warned when I found her panties.

I stroked my fingers over the front then slipped inside, and I was immediately coated in her arousal. She was dripping. How could she stand there and look so fucking innocent and beguiling with a cunt so hungry, it was drooling?

“Oh, beautiful, I’ve kept you waiting. I’m sorry.”

“I-I shouldn’t do this. It’s not me. I don’t do things like this,” she muttered.

I slid my fingers determinedly up and down her slit.

“Hmm, so you said. But you’re so good at it.” I leaned in and smelled her fucking hair, all while working her with my hand. I couldn’t help it. I’d first caught her scent in the back room and had been craving it ever since.

She gasped, rising incredibly quickly. This was a woman who hadn’t gotten off in a long, long time, and I decided right then and there that I was going to ruin her for all other men.

I was going to take her places she’d never been.

Because she was too good for this place.

Because she was kind to me. Because touching her slippery cunt, between her soft, pillowy thighs, was the single greatest pleasure I’d felt in longer than I could remember.

I drew my hand from her pussy before she could come and tasted my fingers.

“Holy shit. Get on the bar, now.” My firm instruction left no room for argument.

“The bar?” she asked, confused.

I didn’t have time for her confusion. I needed my tongue buried between her legs now.

I bent and lifted her, holding her against my chest. I walked to the bar top and set her down. She squirmed, trying to tug her skirt down, and I tutted.

“Hands off. This…” I tugged her skirt up to expose the wet front of her panties. “Tonight, this is mine. And I get to do what I want with it.”

I pushed her back so she fell to her elbows, and with a swift rip, tore her panties from her.

She watched me through glazed eyes as I ran my gaze down her body and greedily eyed her cunt.

“I—you don’t have to—I know guys don’t like it,” she babbled.

“Oh, is that right? You know that, do you?” I teased and eased a finger down her slit.

She jolted, her knees threatening to snap shut, she was so sensitive.

“I’m serious—I know it’s gross,” she continued.

I pinched her clit. “Say that shit again, and I’ll put you across my knee and then make you come with my tongue in your ass, so you get that nothing about you, or this, is gross. None of it. Not a single part.”

Her mouth dropped open at my words, and I took the chance to press her panties inside. I gently cupped her jaw and closed her mouth around the snatch of lace.

“Now, hold fucking still and give me what I’ve been craving all night.”

And I leaned in and licked her. Keeping my hands on her knees to spread her wide, I feasted on her cunt.

Her thighs trembled on either side of my head, threatening to close in and push me out.

I kept them wide, not letting her escape.

She bucked against my face, her sweet cunt tasting like heaven with every swipe of my tongue.

I could eat her for days, but I wanted to prove something to this woman, this unexpected find, and I needed to destroy her to do it.

I wet a finger in my mouth and pressed it inside her as far as I could.

Fucking hell, she was tight. Despite that, I managed to fit a second alongside the first, pumping them in a steady pace while I went to work on her clit.

“Fuck, you’re tight. You a virgin?”

She shook her head and bit her lip. “But it’s been—a while. Years.”

I grinned at her. As good as.

She groaned, a delicious sound, and propped herself up on her elbows.

“Marcus—I—I!” She looked nearly scared of the feeling inside her.

Her chest was heaving, and I cursed my lack of foresight in taking her right here, without even giving myself the gift of stripping off her clothes so I could see her tits shake when she came.

She had a glorious figure, womanly and soft; I was all hard lines and edges, while she was fullness and curves.

The contrast between us was a fucking turn-on, but then everything about this woman was.

Her hands tugged at my hair, and I knew that she was close.

Her thighs tightened around my head, and she came.

Her whole body seized up, like she was plugged into a socket, and I was sending a thousand volts through her.

Her pussy gushed in my mouth, wet as a damn fountain, and I drank that nectar down.

From her earlier protests, it seemed like not many men had had the pleasure of sipping straight from her source, and that fact only turned me on even more.

There was a raw newness about her reactions, a shocked sweetness about the way she came that wound its way inside me, and I knew I’d never forget the expression on this woman’s face as she realized what her body was capable of in the right hands.

I worked her through the orgasm, drawing it out, playing with her until her sensitivity ebbed, kissing her twitching cunt. I straightened up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“What were you saying about the female orgasm?” I drawled.

She flushed. She was staring up at me, starry-eyed. I leaned in and kissed her.

“Keep looking at me like that, birthday girl, and I’ll start to think I’m your god,” I said.

She shivered, dipping her chin, suddenly shy.

“Yeah, well, after that, me, too,” she whispered.

I let out a laugh and gathered her into my arms. I needed to be inside this woman, and I’d had enough of the hard bar top.

“Stop! What are you doing?” she protested.

I carried her behind the bar. “Taking you to bed, where I can fuck you properly.”

Her mouth hung open then snapped shut. “Yeah, well, I can walk. You’ll hurt your back.”