Her mouth opened and then clamped shut as she realized that agreeing out loud would be breaking my rule.
I grinned, then nibbled her ear before murmuring, “If you keep this up, I might let you take control in bed one of these days.”
Maren’s head twisted to the side so she could look at my face, as if gauging if I was serious. I winked at her, and she flushed, her eyes sparkling.
“But not this time,” I growled before I began to move again. I kept her there, one hand at her throat in a gentle hold, the otherunder her tits as I pounded into her from behind. Each slap of my hips echoed in the room.
“You’re mine, Maren,” I growled. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she gasped. “Only yours.”
I pinched her nipple and fucked her harder. “That’s right. Mine to touch, to fuck, to fill. No one else will ever see you like this. On your knees, stuffed full of my cock, begging for more.”
She gasped, and I squeezed her throat gently before giving her permission to stop trying to stay quiet.
“Go ahead, baby. Let me hear you cry. Scream. Beg.”
Maren moaned, and her arms came up to circle my neck, like she needed something to hold.
“I could keep you like this forever,” I grunted. “Naked, marked, leaking my seed, pregnant with my kid, blissed out and purring in my arms. Would you like that, baby?”
“Yes, yes,” she sobbed. “Please.”
I slammed deep, held her there, and slid my fingers between her legs. I rubbed her clit in hard circles, my mouth at her ear.
“Come again. Come on my cock, Maren. Let me feel it.”
She broke with a cry, her pussy clamping down so hard I saw fucking stars.
I followed her over the edge with a roar, grinding into her as I came again, spilling every last drop of my seed inside her. Then my head fell to her shoulder, and I bit down lightly, claiming her all over again.
We collapsed in a heap, tangled in the sheets and our own sweat, her body still twitching in aftershocks.
She was breathless, spent, and absolutely fucking perfect.
But I still wasn’t finished. Not until I had her begging for mercy. Or begging for more.
Whichever came first.
17
KEVLAR
They came at night. There was no subtlety or caution. Just arrogance.
Three blacked-out SUVs rolled up to the edge of our compound, creeping slowly like they thought we wouldn’t notice. As though they were the hunters and we were just some unsuspecting prey sleeping behind our walls.
But we saw them coming before they breached the tree line.
Idiots.
They weren’t ready for what was coming. Not for the kind of welcome that comes with silencers, steel, and a body count.
The compound was deceptively quiet. Dinner was wrapped up, the lights were low, and most of the club was either in the lounge or guarding the perimeter. Rebel had been patrolling the south fence line when he saw the first glint of glass in the trees. Cross was posted on the north entrance. Tomcat and Echo were inside the camera room with Wizard, reviewing exterior loops. I was coming out of the armory when I got the call over comms.
“Company at the south tree line,” Rebel announced. “Three SUVs. Running dark. They think they’re being slick.”
That was all it took to bring the entire Hounds compound to life. But it wasn’t flashy like people would think. Floodlights didn’t flicker on. Sirens didn’t wail. That wasn’t how we did things. We weren’t loud or obvious. We moved like men who understood silence and how to use it to our advantage.
