Crystal’s tried more than once. She’s a persistent little thing. Every time we finish, she stretches out across my mattress like she’s staking a claim. Smiling up at me, talking about how late it is, how she’s too tired to walk back to her room. Hoping I’ll cave.
I never did.
I always haul myself out of bed, pull on my jeans, and make it clear the night’s over. I’ve seen that look in their eyes before—the one that says they’re already imagining wearing my property kutte. Almost every Kutte Bunny comes into the clubhouse hoping to snag a member. Some only come for the sex and a place to live while they pursue other options. But the ones who want the patch make it clear they want forever. However, no biker wants forever with a woman who’s been with their brothers. I’ve never wanted forever with anyone.
But Zara…
She shifts slightly, her fingers flexing against my stomach. A soft sigh leaves her lips as she presses closer, like she’s chasing heat even in her sleep.
I watch her, expecting to feel trapped. But I don’t. I expect my mind to be working out an escape route, but instead, I feel calm. Everything about this feels right.
My right hand is on her naked hip. She fits perfectly against me. Her tiny frame belies her strength. Her skin is soft, but she feels gloriously solid. Last night, she matched me thrust for thrust. I gently caress her hip as I play back the previous night’s adventure. I can still taste her on my tongue, and the memory has my mouth watering for another sample. But nothing compares to how I felt sliding into her for the first time. It’s like discovering what you’ve been searching for your entire life.
A strange tightness settles in my chest as I watch her. Last night wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t about blowing off steam or proving something. It was her looking at me like I’m more than the man who betrayed his old club. More than the enforcer. More than the guy with blood on his hands.
With her, I’m just Bush.
I gently squeeze her hip. She hums, burrowing closer.
I try to imagine this—every morning. Her hair on my pillow. Her warm body pressed against mine. Waking up and knowing she’s still here. Not because she doesn’t have somewhere else to go, but because she chooses to be here.
The idea should make me itch. It should make me think about complications, about danger, about how men like me don’t get soft, domestic fantasies.
Instead, I find myself picturing it too easily.
Her padding around my room in one of my shirts. Complaining about the noise downstairs. Rolling her eyes at the guys, but fitting in anyway. Crawling back into my bed at night because it’s the only place she wants to be. Waking up to her every morning.
I tighten my arm around her without thinking.
For the first time in my life, waking up with a woman in my bed doesn’t feel like a mistake waiting to happen. Instead, it feels like something I’m already used to, something I don’t want to lose.
Zara stirs next to me. Her eyes flash to my face as a wide grin spreads across her pretty face. “Morning,” she whispers.
“Morning,” I grin back.
When she stretches, I take the opportunity to tickle her ribs. She squeals and wiggles in my arms, making my cock lengthen. I pull her close so I can chomp on her neck, which has her in giggles. Hearing her laugh is like standing in front of a fire after a winter ride. We wrestle until she’s lying on top of me.
I brush back her hair as I study her face. “You are so beautiful,” I say, grinning when her cheeks pink.
She shifts her body until her pussy settles on my cock. With slow, deliberate movements, she slides up and down, covering my dick with her cream. Her fingers dig into my pecs as she throws her head back. All the while, she grinds her pussy on my hard cock. Cupping her breasts, I use my thumb to flick her nipples, rewarded by her full-body shiver.
“Are you too sore?” I ask her. I’m about ready to cum and would rather be buried in her heat, but not if it will cause her discomfort.
“No, I want to feel you inside me,” she moans.
I release her breast to reach the nightstand where only one condom packet remains. However, she grabs my hand and returns it to her breast.
“I’ll get it,” she tells me, leaning forward to grab the foil. With her eyes locked on mine, she rips it open with her teeth before placing the condom in her mouth. Zara shuffles lower on the bed before using her mouth to apply the condom.
I suck in a breath as her hot, moist mouth envelopes me. My dick is ready to burst. I try to distract him with other thoughts, but the sight of her luscious mouth stretched wide with my cock is too enticing to look away. She finally rolls the condom on and positions herself over my quivering dick. With strong legs, she slowly lowers herself until I’m inside her, and our pelvic bones lock together.
Jerking my hips, I slam into her as she holds on for the ride. We shift into another gear when I grab hold of her hips and press my thumb against her nub. Zara tosses her head back as she hands over the wheel. Her moans are sexier than any motor. I lift her and slam her down hard and fast. The pace quickens as I feel my release take over. When I feel her orgasm ripple around me, I give out a shout that matches her scream, and I explode into the condom.
“Holy shit,” I whisper into Zara’s hair after she collapses on my chest.
“Here I thought you couldn’t top last night,” she murmurs into my chest.
I chuckle. “I think we need to keep working at it. I have a feeling we’ll get better.”
