He reaches for the zip on his jacket and tugs it all the way down, allowing my breasts to spill out. I rub against his cock, coating him in my arousal as he plays with my nipples. I’m getting closer to another release, which seems crazy. I don’t come once, never mind multiple times. I thought that was for porn stars and super blessed people.
He pulls back and positions himself at my entrance, starting to push in, his eyes never leaving my face. The stretch is bordering on painful, but he keeps a steady assault on my nipples, overriding it with the promise of pleasure. There’s a point where he hits something that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head, then he slides in further before meeting resistance.
“You’re in?” I check. Holy shit, he better be in.
He shakes his head. “Not yet, trouble, a little more. Try relaxing for me.”
You try relaxing while someone is trying to shove a tree trunk inside your body.I shuffle my ass, moving away a little, but he hooks one of my thighs over his arm and holds it tight. With his free hand, he rubs tight slow circles on my clit. I moan as I spasm around him, the sensation leaving me breathless. He grits his teeth as he overcomes that resistance and slides in deeper. My gaze flies to his, and I realize he’s still not in. I am about to die speared by a monster cock in a hot biker’s bed. There are certainly less memorable and pleasurable ways to go.
I cry out as the beginning of my orgasm makes me buck beneath him.
“Come on my cock, trouble. Let me inside.”
My back arches, and I shout his name as I come harder than all my orgasms ever combined. When I come back to mybody, he’s kissing me, moving with slow deep thrusts to help me stretch. His pelvis is finally flush with my own as he whispers against my lips how beautiful I am.
My legs wrap around his ass, and I hook my ankles together. He pulls back with a grin. “You back with me?”
“Yes.” I could make untrue comments to try and wipe the masculine satisfied smirk off his face, but the evidence of how hard I came is clear in my voice, my words, my body, and my still-convulsing pussy.
“I want another before I come, trouble.”
He kisses me deep, stealing my protest. There’s no possible way that is happening. Two isn’t enough? Is he trying to kill me?
He reaches around and unhooks my feet, flipping us so I’m straddling him, our bodies connected the entire time. But he’s even deeper, and he’s all I can feel.
“Keep going,” he moans. “I’m not coming until you do.”
My hands land on his chest, and he grabs my hips to help me rise and guide me down. He twists his pelvis a little, making me cry out. Maybe I can come again. I find a rhythm, and the bands inside of me snap tighter. Again.
“Lean back, Eleanor, and watch yourself come.”
His hands grip my hips as he meets my body with thrusts of his own. My gaze catches on our reflection as our sweat-slicked bodies, flushed with pleasure, move in perfect rhythm, and my red lips part as I stare at us. Hunter tugs his jacket off my shoulders, throws it across the room, and looks up. The complete adoration in his gaze tips me over. My spine arches, and he thrusts so deep I don’t see stars, I see another world. He shouts my name and pins me to him as he loses the fight with his release. I flop down onto his chest, and for the third time, pass out cold with a happy sated smile on my face.
Stars indeed, Mr. King.I think I might be addicted.
Chapter Forty
Eleanor
The bonds forged in pain cannot be broken, and that is his greatest mistake.
There is nothing attractive or dignified about camping. Not that I’ve ever been, but I escaped uncomfortable beds and sparse furnishings many years ago, and now prefer to surround myself in things that bring me comfort. Nature is easy to find in a backyard, or if you want more immersion, a woodland lodge. But to willingly make the choice to sleep in flimsy plastic houses with zippers for security and a half inch thick mattress as your bed? That is the definition of insanity. Yet here I stand, loading up a truck with essentials Hunter packed for me. At least it’s only two nights. I’ve stayed awake longer doing jobs. That could be a possible solution—not sleep. Then the spiders and bears can’t get me.
If I’m truly being honest with myself, which, if you can’t be, then what are you doing? It’s not the wildlife making me anxious, it’s the fact I will be with the Reapers for two full days. No bedroom to escape to, no time to figure out how to make theconversations go smoother so people pay as little attention to me as possible, and no time alone with the man who has ensnared my heart. My reason for breathing is altering. Having been fueled by vengeance and betrayal for so long, this softer feeling is foreign but not unwanted. It tempers my anger and puts the world in a softer focus. Is it a bad thing? I’m not sure. But I have time to figure it out.
Hunter launches his bag into the truck and winks at me. We are one of six trucks being loaded with camping equipment. The rest of the members will take their bikes. I could always hide out in the truck if I needed to.
We’re in the main MC compound, and it’s entirely different to what I imagined it to be. Nothing about the Desert Reapers fits the typical mold. Not that I have any experience of MCs—but they do have certain reputations.
The compound has such strong connotations for me, and I know I am judging it based on my personal experiences, which seems ridiculous. This bustling Texas town might be home to its many members, but the compound is the heart. William’s lodge-style home is warm and sprawling, the garden lush, and everyone has respectfully kept their wheels off the lawn by parking in a dedicated area.
There’s also a daycare called Little Reapers, which is both cute and a little macabre, and definitely at odds with the white walls and spotless playground. It makes sense to keep the most vulnerable behind a set of gates and high walls that can, if the need arises, become an extra barrier. I hope they never need to use them. They might have made a conscious decision to step away from criminal pursuits, but that doesn’t mean criminality won’t come seeking them out.
There are a few other buildings, offices I presume, as well as some smaller versions of the main lodge. Guest houses? Or maybe for close family? Shouldn’t Hunter live here as a VP?
“Are any of those yours?” I blurt.
He looks over his shoulder to follow my gaze before shaking his head. “No. We have a couple of older members that still want their independence but need a little more support, so we have medical staff on rotation who live in the end house.”
