I'm fully seated on him now, filled completely, my forehead resting against his shoulder to hide my expression of ecstasy. Behind me, someone laughs at a joke, completely unaware of what's happening in the shadows.
"Don't move," Vance whispers, his control clearly tenuous. "Just sit on Daddy's cock like a good girl. Let me enjoy being inside my wife."
I obey, remaining still though every instinct screams for movement, for friction. We stay like that, joined intimately in the midst of the gathering, his pulsing length stretching me while conversation flows around us.
"You feel that?" he murmurs, one hand sliding up to cup my breast through my dress. "How perfectly you take me? Like you were made for my cock. My perfect little breeding doll."
The crude words, spoken with such possessive reverence, send liquid heat through my core. I clench around him involuntarily, drawing a sharp intake of breath.
"Careful, baby doll," he warns, hips shifting slightly upward. "Don't want everyone to know I'm fucking you right here, do you?"
The thought should horrify me. Instead, it makes me tighten around him again, my body betraying how much the risk excites me.
"You like that idea," he observes, voice thick with arousal. "My dirty little wife, letting me breed her with all my brothers just feet away."
"Please," I breathe against his neck, beyond caring about propriety now.
With subtle movements that wouldn't be obvious to casual observers, he begins to rock me on his lap, his cock sliding minutely in and out. It's not the hard fucking we usually engage in, but the restrained nature makes it incredibly intense.
"Going to fill you up," he promises, voice a low rumble. "Going to put my baby in you right here where everyone can see who you belong to."
His hand slips between us, finding my clit again, circling with just enough pressure to drive me wild. I bite down on hisshoulder to keep from moaning, my body tightening around him as pleasure builds.
"Come for me," he commands, lips against my ear. "Come on Daddy's cock. Let me feel that tight little pussy milk me dry."
The combination of his words, his touch, and the forbidden nature of our act sends me over the edge. I shudder against him, waves of pleasure washing through me as I stifle my cries against his neck. He follows immediately, his release pulsing hot inside me, his grip on my hip bruising in its intensity.
For long moments we stay joined, our breathing gradually returning to normal. Around us, the party continues, no one the wiser—or if they are, no one daring to comment.
When I finally find the strength to lift myself off him, he helps adjust my dress, then tucks himself away. His expression is one of smug satisfaction as he pulls me back against his chest, now just holding me.
"Mine," he murmurs into my hair, just for me to hear.
And I don't deny it. Because somehow, impossibly, in this strange world of danger and brotherhood and fire, I've found where I belong. In the arms of a man who sees me—really sees me—and claims me as his own.
"Yours," I whisper back, and mean it.
ten
. . .
Vance
I checkmy weapons one last time—Glock secured at my hip, hunting knife strapped to my calf, brass knuckles in my pocket. Wynter watches from our bed, her face carefully composed, but I can read the fear in those big eyes. She's trying to be brave. My perfect little wife, adapting to this life I've thrust her into. Three weeks ago she was shelving books in some quiet small-town library. Now she's watching her husband arm himself for what could be a bloodbath if the Nighthawks are stupid enough to engage. The need to protect her burns in my gut like acid, fuels every dark impulse I've ever controlled. For her, I'd burn the whole fucking world to ash.
"How long will you be gone?" she asks, voice steady despite her obvious worry.
"Two days, max." I pull on my cut—the leather vest bearing the Devil's Claim insignia that marks me as president. "Diesel will stay with you the whole time."
She nods, fingers twisting the wedding band on her finger. A nervous habit she's developed. "And you're just…tracking them? Not engaging?"
"Just intelligence gathering," I lie smoothly. What she doesn't need to know won't keep her up at night. If I find a clear shot at the Nighthawks' leadership, I'm taking it. End this threat before it can touch her.
"Promise me you'll be careful." She stands, crossing to me, looking tiny and fragile next to my bulk.
I cup her face in my hands, memorizing every feature. "I promise I'll come back to you. Always."
She rises on tiptoes to kiss me, and I keep it gentle despite the violence simmering beneath my skin.Save it for the enemy, not my sweet girl.
