"I know," I whimper, my legs trembling as I spread myself wider, offering him everything. "Fucking claim me, Shane. Impale me."
He doesn't just lunge; he rams. His full, terrifying girth slams into me, stretching my pussy beyond its absolute limit in a single, violent stroke. I feel my skin go taut, my internal walls groaning under the invasion as his thick cock conquers every inch of my depth. I let out a wrecked, high-pitched gasp, my body locking up around the massive intrusion of him.
"Yield for me, baby," he grunts, his voice a rough vibration against my lips. He leans down, devouring my mouth in a hard, possessive kiss while his hips maintain the agonizing, delicious pressure. "Breathe through it. Open up and take every goddamn inch of my seed-filled length."
I stare into his eyes, seeing the fire of a predator who has finally cornered his prey. I force myself to relax, to melt around him. He pushes past the final resistance, bottoming out until his heavy balls are crushed against my soaking pussy. We both roar—asound of primal, shared hunger. He is so fucking big he fills me to the point of a beautiful, localized pain, stretching me so wide I know I’ll never be the same.
"Fuck," he hisses, his nostrils flaring as he scents the heavy, pungent musk of our joined bodies. "You were made to be stretched by my cock. You were built to be filled by me."
He begins to move. Gentleness is a dead concept. He withdraws until only the head remains, teasing my entrance, before he slams back in—a powerful, bone-shattering thrust that knocks the breath from my lungs.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sound of his skin slapping against mine echoes off the timber walls, a wet, rhythmic thud. The friction is maddening, a delicious burn that makes my head swim. His hands grip my hips with bruising force, his calloused fingers digging into my flesh as he begins to pound into me like he’s trying to drive himself into my very marrow.
He sets a brutal pace, driving into me with a primal rhythm that strips away everything but the sensation of him. "Mine," he grunts with each thrust. "My girl. My property."
"Yes," I sob, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Yes, Shane."
Seeing him above me, this scarred, dangerous beast of a man losing control because of me, is the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever experienced. He reaches down between our bodies, his thumb finding my clit again, grinding against it as he thrusts. It is too much. The second wave of pleasure builds instantly.
"Come for me again," he demands, his voice a broken growl. "Let me feel you clamp down on me."
"Shane, I can't—I?—"
"You can." He drives harder, hitting that sweet spot deep inside with unerring precision. I fall apart. I scream, my inner muscles spasming around his cock, milking him.
That breaks him. Shane roars, a primal, animalistic sound, as he loses his fucking mind inside me. He rams his cock home with three violent, bone-shattering thrusts, burying himself so deep I feel his balls slapping against my soaking pussy. He goes rigid, his muscles locking as he hits his limit, and then I feel it—the thick, burning jets of his seed flooding my pussy, coating my walls in his hot, heavy cum.
He holds the connection for a long time, shuddering, his face buried in the crook of my neck. Slowly, the world comes back into focus. The fire is dying down to embers. I am lying on the living room rug, naked, pinned beneath the Sergeant at Arms of the Broken Halos MC. Shane collapses onto his elbows, taking his weight off me but not withdrawing. He kisses my temple. The aggression drains out of him, replaced by a fierce, heavy protectiveness.
"You okay?" he asks quietly, brushing a damp strand of hair off my forehead.
"I think you broke me," I manage, my voice raspy.
He chuckles, a dark, low sound of satisfaction. "I'll put you back together, Bee. But I'm never letting you go."
He pauses, his head tilting toward the stairs, his ears tuned to the silence of the house for his daughter. "Maddie is safe and sound, and you're staying right here under my weight."
He pulls out slowly, and I whimper at the emptiness. He grabs the throw blanket from the sofa and drapes it over us. He rolls to his side, pulling me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me like iron bands.
"You're not leaving," he states. A fact, not a question.
"I have a job to do," I say, tracing the scar on his chest.
"Job's changed," he mutters, his hand stroking down my spine, possessing. "You watch Maddie. I watch you. And nobody touches what's mine. Not the Costas, not the townies, nobody."
I stiffen slightly at the mention of the Costas. Shane feels my reaction. He squeezes me tighter, his chin resting on top of my head. "Don't worry about them. I meant what I said. You belong to the club now, Bianca. You belong to me. And the Devil himself couldn't drag you out of my grip."
I close my eyes, listening to the steady thump of his heart. For the first time in my life, I don't feel lost. I feel found.
"Okay," I whisper into the darkness. "Okay."
Shane kisses the top of my head, his grip unyielding. The real storm is right here, and I am right in the center of it.
6
SHANE
