“Yes.” Her voice is muffled by the pillow, desperate. “Please.”
I grab the lube from the nightstand and squirt it between her ass cheeks, taking my time opening her up, one finger, then two, feeling her relax into it while she makes those broken little sounds I’ll never get tired of hearing.
“I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers while I’m claiming your ass,” I rasp, lining myself up and nudging my tip inside.
“Bones.” She keens.
I push in slow—have to, she’s so fucking tight—and the sound she makes is somewhere between pain and pleasure, her fingers fisting the sheets. I give her time to adjust, every muscle in my body screaming to move, to take, to claim.
“OK,” she breathes. “OK. Move.”
I do.
It’s different like this—tighter, hotter, more intense. I grip her hips and set a rhythm that has her moaning into the pillow, pushing back to meet each thrust.
“Holy fuck. Bones. Oh, god.”
“Keep touching yourself,” I growl. “Want to feel you come with my cock in your ass.”
Her fingers move frantically, and I can feel her getting close again—the way her body tightens, the pitch of her moans climbing higher.
“That’s it, swan. One more. Give me one more.”
She screams into the pillow as she comes, her whole body clamping down on me, and that’s all it takes.
I bury myself deep and let go, the orgasm ripping through me—violent, cleansing, like something dark being purged from my blood. I spill inside her with a sound that’s more growl than groan, hips jerking erratically as I empty everything I have, everything I am, into the only person who’s ever made me feel like more than what I’ve done.
“Emma.” Her name comes out wrecked. “Fuck. Emma.”
I slide out of her and collapse beside her, shaking, hollowed out in the best way. She moves to me and drapes herself over my chest, her heartbeat against mine, and for the first time tonight I feel clean.
We lie there panting, tangled and sticky. Emma’s fingers trace lazy patterns on my skin, soothing the scratches she left earlier, and I press a kiss to her forehead, tasting salt. The room spins a little, the high of release mixing with the bone-deep exhaustion from the night, but right now, with her heart hammering against mine, nothing else exists.
“Was that ruined enough for you?” I murmur, my voice gravelly as I lift my head to meet her eyes.
She smiles, slow and satisfied, her cheeks still flushed. “I think you might have gone easy on me. Might need a round two to be sure.”
I chuckle, the sound rumbling in my chest, and roll to the side, shifting her with me so she’s still draped over me, but her bad ankle is now propped carefully on my leg. “Give me five minutes, swan. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“Liar.” She nuzzles into my neck, her breath warm against my skin. “You could go all night if I asked.”
“True. But then you’d be the one begging for mercy.” I run my fingers through her hair, untangling the knots, and for a moment it’s perfect—just us, no club, no threats, no blood on my hands. But reality creeps in, the weight of what I did tonight settling like lead in my gut. Carlos’s face flashes in my mind, the way his eyes went wide when he realized who we were.
Emma must sense the shift because she props herself up on one elbow, searching my face. “You’re thinking about tonight.”
I don’t deny it. “Yeah.”
She doesn’t push, just traces the tattoo over my heart—the swan I got for her years ago, when missing her felt like a constant bruise. “Does it . . . help? Knowing you can just . . . put someone down if they threaten what you care about?”
I nod, pulling her closer. “It helps. But it’s not over. Summit’s still out there, still pushing. Tonight was just one loose end.”
She nods, her fingers still tracing that old ink on my chest like she’s mapping out every regret I’ve ever carried. “I know it’s not over. What happens now? With Vernick, Summit . . . all of it?”
I stroke her back, feeling the ridge of her spine under my palm. “We keep pushing. The zoning hearing’s coming up—Josie’s prepping the community to show up in force. And Axel and I are digging deeper into Vernick’s donors, see if we can expose more ties to Summit before the election heats up. If we play it right, we box them in legally, make it too hot for them to keep buying up the east side.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” Her voice is quiet, but there’s steel in it, that fighter’s edge she’s always had.
“Then we do what the MC does best. We protect what’s ours.” I tilt her chin up, make her look at me. “But you need to promise me something—if you get scared again, there can’t be any more running off into the woods. And no more stealing cars. You feel that panic coming, you grab me, your dad, anyone. I need you strong, swan. Can you do that for me?”
