CHAPTER TWO
ROCHELLE
After returning from coffee with Red, I felt a little more upbeat. Enough to do a test. When it said I was fertile, I didn’t waste any time calling Drifter. We can’t miss an opportunity.
I lie back, glancing at the clock for the hundredth time. I don’t know why these moments make me feel so on edge, whether it’s pressure or the fact that I know this could be it.
I even bought a little black chemise for the occasion. I know the delicate lace over the swell of my breast and the silk gliding over my skin will drive Drifter mad.
I take a few deep breaths, releasing them slowly as I try to calm the excited butterflies in my stomach at seeing his reaction.
The floorboards outside creak as his heavy boots get closer. The door slowly opens, and he appears in the doorway, freezing when his eyes land on me.
“Shit, Hell, what are you doing to me?” he asks, quickly glancing behind him to check no one else is there. He closes the door, grinning as he kicks off his boots.
I bite my lower lip, grazing it slowly between my teeth as I run my hands over the silk then carefully drag the material up my body to reveal my lack of underwear.
Drifter lets out a low whistle as he shrugs from his kutte and rips his shirt off over his head. He throws it on the floor, rushing out of his jeans as he closes the gap between us.
“Show me that pussy, Hell,” he murmurs, trying to part my legs further. “I need to taste it.”
I offer a teasing smirk, clamping my legs closed. He laughs, his eyes darkening with need. “Don’t hide what belongs to me, Hell, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.” He stalks to the end of the bed, grabbing my ankles and pulling me closer to the edge in one swift motion. I let out a surprised squeal, and he leans over, his face mere inches from my already wet pussy. He inhales. “Fucking perfection, Hell.”
He runs his tongue through my folds, slow and careful, like he’s savouring every drop. I shiver beneath his expert touch, my fingers curling into the sheet as his tongue continues dancing rhythmically with my clit as I quiver beneath him.
He pulls back slightly, and I groan in frustration, arching to try and get closer. He nips my inner thigh then blows gently. I convulse, wrapping my legs around his head and drag him where I need him to be. His mouth closes over me, sucking until I’m so close, I can feel the finish line. He runs his fingers through my folds, coating them in my arousal before pushing them inside. I feel the warmth from my toes creeping up my body until I’m crying out, my orgasm ripping through me.
My legs loosen from around his head, and he grins, looking up at me as he sucks his fingers.
“You taste fucking divine, Hell,” he mutters, placing tender kisses along my stomach until he reaches my breast. He slides the strap of my chemise down, exposing my nipple. He takes itinto his mouth and bites down gently. I close my eyes, relaxing into his touch and relishing at how much he wants me.
He grazes my nipple between his teeth, and I arch off the bed. Then he takes his attention to my other breast, licking, biting, touching, until I’m squirming beneath him impatiently. I need to feel him, all of him, so I reach between us and wrap my hand around his thick shaft. My fingers trace his length until I feel the bead of precum on the tip of his cock. He hisses as I swipe it away with my thumb, then he pulls me closer, kissing me until my toes curl.
He lines himself up at my entrance, slowly pushing in an inch at a time. I wrap my legs around him impatiently, trying to pull him closer.
He stops, hovering over me with a glint in his eye. “Patience,” he whispers, his breath fanning my face.
“No,” I growl. “I need you now.”
I trace my nails over his muscular back, watching as his jaw tightens. I add a little more pressure, knowing his restraint is wavering.
A low rumble emits from deep in his chest as he increases his thrusts at a punishing pace.
I feel my climax building, and my legs begin to tremble. It’s when he reaches between us and circles his fingers around my clit that I come undone beneath him, my walls clenching his cock with a vice-like grip. It brings him over the edge with me, and he shudders, groaning as he comes.
Drifter drops down beside me, sweat glistening across his tattooed chest. I roll onto my side, tracing the details with my fingers. It’s one of my favourite pastimes, admiring every ink that adorns his skin. I trail the outline of the intricate design of his bike that he had replicated on his pec. The only thing that I believe he loves more than me is his Harley. The sleek black motorcycle brandishes radiant green stripes, which arehighlighted in his tattoo, along with the etching of ‘Hell’ in the chrome work. He stills my hand, holding it tightly and resting it over his heart.
He inhales sharply, and I know he’s about to break this moment.
“Hell,” he murmurs, and I lift my gaze to look at his face. “I need to go.”
I sigh, resting my head on his chest, wanting to savour our last few moments of peace. I know in this life, it’s always the club first, but it doesn’t ever stop. Nor does the sting in my chest when he has to get up and leave.
I feel the instant loss of his embrace, the one place where I feel safe and protected from my racing thoughts. I make my way to the bathroom, giving him the space he needs.
I hear him rustling around in the bedroom before there is a gentle knock on the bathroom door.
“I need to go,” he repeats. When I don’t answer, he says, “I love you.”
