I kiss her again, swallowing her moans as I sink the rest of the way, bottoming out with a groan. Fuck, she feels perfect, like she was carved for me.
We stay like that for a moment, connected, my weight pinning her gently to the mattress.
Her breaths come in shallow pants against my shoulder, and I start to move. Shallow thrusts at first, careful not to jar her too much. Each slide in and out builds the friction, her wetness coating me, easing the way.
Grace’s hands grip my shoulders, her body rocking with mine.
“More,” she whispers, and I give it to her, picking up the pace.
My hips snap forward, cock driving deeper, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out. The bed creaks under us, the room filling with the slap of skin on skin and her breathy moans.
I hook one of her legs higher over my hip, changing the angle, and she shudders, her pussy fluttering around me.
“Right there,” she gasps, head falling back. I grind against her clit with every thrust, feeling her tighten, her orgasm building.
Sweat beads on my skin, dripping onto her as I take her harder, chasing my own release. She’s so responsive, every clench and whimper pushing me closer.
“Grace, fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” I grunt, my balls drawing up tight.
“Do it,” she urges, her nails digging in.
Her words tip me over. I thrust deep one last time, burying myself as I spill into her, hot jets filling her up. She follows right after, her pussy spasming, milking every drop from me as she comes with a broken sob, body shaking beneath mine.
I collapse forward, careful not to crush her, pressing kisses to her damp forehead, her cheeks. We stay joined, breaths mingling, until I soften and slip out, our combined release trickling between her thighs.
Her breath slows. Her fingers curl into my chest.
The day will come for us soon.
But not yet.
Right now, she’s safe.
And I’m hers.
Chapter 8
Diesel
Graceisstillasleepwhen I leave.
She’s curled up in my bed, soft and quiet, hair tangled across the pillow like a halo. I watch her for a second too long, heart thudding in a way I don’t recognize. The kind of rhythm that belongs to men with something to lose.
She made herself mine last night and this early morning, in every way that counts.
And now I’ve got to leave her behind while I go hunt monsters.
I don’t wake her. Just brush my knuckles over her cheek, tuck the blanket up to her shoulder, and slip out into the cold morning.
The cabin door shuts behind me with a click that feels too final.
The sky is still dark, clouds heavy with another storm. My bike waits, growling low when I fire it up. Tires spit gravel as I teardown the mountain road, wind biting at my face, cutting through the heat still burning under my skin.
By the time I reach the clubhouse, the lot is already buzzing.
Ghost is leaning against a van, arms crossed, black jacket zipped tight. Havoc stands beside him, giving orders to Saint and Blade. Everyone’s armed. Everyone’s wired tight.
“Compound’s thinned out,” Ghost says the second I kill the engine. “They bought it. Viper and the prospects counted sixteen Wolves at the Rusty Nail, dressed like they’re playing soldier.”
