"Have you ever regretted it?" I ask, partly to distract myself from inappropriate thoughts. "Joining the MC instead of just moving to the city or something normal?"
He considers the question, still in that position that showcases his incredible arms. I can't help imagining what he could do with that strength—pick me up like I weigh nothing, carry me to his bedroom, tear my clothes off with those large, capable hands...
"I've thought about it," he admits, pulling me back to the conversation. "More than a dozen times, especially since Eli came along. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to just wake up one day, pack our stuff, and leave without ever coming back." He sighs. "But that wouldn't be fair to anyone. Eli has school, friends here. I have my life, the club. This is my life, dangerous as it gets sometimes." He chuckles. "Though I promise it's rarely this dangerous. If it weren't for the Eagles, things would be a lot calmer."
I shift closer to him on the couch. "Thank you," I say softly. "For saving me. For protecting me. I have no idea what they would have done if they'd caught me."
He moves closer too, the space between us shrinking. "I did what any decent man should do."
I clench my thighs together, rubbing them against each other as heat pools between my legs. Beads of sweat trickle down between my breasts beneath my borrowed shirt. I place my hand on his leg, feeling the solid muscle beneath the denim.
"I think few men are truly decent," I tell him.
He turns to look at me directly, his green eyes intense. "Maybe you've just met the wrong ones."
"Maybe," I agree, my voice dropping to just above a whisper. "Or maybe I've finally met a right one."
He smiles, but I notice his body's reaction. The unmistakable bulge in his jeans throbbing beneath the fabric when I squeeze his thigh. It grows with each passing second, the outline becoming clearly visible against his pants. I gulp dryly, feeling my panties dampen in response. God, I want to put my mouth around his cock, taste him, savor him.
Rage leans closer, placing a hand on my chin and tilting my face up toward his.
"My eyes are up here," he says playfully.
I laugh, caught in my obvious staring. "It's hard to look you in the eyes when that is happening."
He glances down at himself. "This?" he asks, gripping his bulge, which pulses visibly in his hand.
"Yes," I admit, shyness suddenly washing over me despite my desire. "I want to see it. Touch it." Fuck. I feel like a virginal girl wanting to touch her first cock, vulnerable and timid despite my experience.
Rage doesn't say a word. He simply unzips his jeans, pushes his briefs aside, and takes out his cock. It's fucking insane—thick, veined, magnificent. Exactly how I like it.
I extend my arm slowly, still not believing this is really happening. When I grip it, my fingers can't even close around its girth. I stroke it a few times, feeling it grow another impossible inch.
I can't resist anymore. I slide off the couch onto my knees between his legs, spreading them wider to accommodate me. I wrap my lips around his cockhead and slide down, taking as much as I can. Rage tilts his head back with a low groan, surrendering to the sensation as I begin to work.
I bob my head back and forth, finding my rhythm before attempting to take him deeper. It's challenging. I'm gagging slightly, but I'm not a quitter. I survived the Eagles; no way am I getting stopped by a big cock. I push myself down, taking him to the back of my throat, saliva dripping from the corners of my mouth before I slide back up.
"Fuck, you're incredible," Rage murmurs, his voice strained. "Need that pretty mouth on my cock again."
I smirk, feeling a surge of confidence unlike anything I've experienced before. I'm in control here, making this powerful man come undone with just my mouth. I descend on him again, and this time he gathers my hair in his fist, pulling it back from my face.
"Want to see you," he explains hoarsely. "Your eyes while you take my cock."
I keep my gaze locked on his as I continue, watching the pleasure play across his features. His mouth is half-open, eyes heavy-lidded with desire, his free hand gripping the couch cushion. But what captivates me most is his body. As he leans back, his shirt rides up to reveal sculpted abs that ripple with each breath.
I keep sucking him while my hands explore those perfect muscles, tracing each defined ridge. Fuck, he's so hot it's almost unreal. I can't take it anymore. I need more, need him inside me.
I release him with an audible pop, saliva still connecting my lips to his throbbing cockhead.
"I need more," I tell him breathlessly.
A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face. "Stand up," he orders, his voice commanding in a way that sends shivers down my spine.
I obey immediately, and he leans forward, turning me around. He pulls down my jeans and panties, his large hands squeezing my ass cheeks. He presses a kiss to each cheek before spreading them apart, running a finger along my wet slit.
"Fucking soaked," he murmurs approvingly. "Sit on my cock."
I position myself above him, lowering onto his cockhead. He grips my hips firmly, guiding me down until he's buried deepinside me. I throw my head back at the delicious stretch, the perfect fullness.
