“Want more painkillers?”
No, I don’t want more tablets, but… “I want you.”
He runs his hands through his hair, then bringing them down, removes the tray and puts the empty plates and cups on the floor. “Sam, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Drummer, you won’t.” My mouth forms a frown. “I need you. I need this. I need to know I’m here with you, and that I’m safe. That I’m alive.”
He inches closer, his weight making the mattress dip. Reaching out his hand, he smooths it down my cheek and I lean into his touch. Snaking out my tongue, I lick his palm, his taste a mingling of saltiness and soap. Risking a glance up to his face, I see his eyes darken. His free hand comes around, and his fingers tangle in my hair, then tighten as he pulls me toward him, his possessive action triggering a throbbing in my loins.
His mouth hovering above me, he waits for a second, analysing my reactions. Then he lowers his lips, a gentle brush across mine, completely at odds with the firmness of his hold on my head, a dominant action despite the tenderness of his touch.
Gradually he increases the pressure, his tongue seeking entry, and I let him inside. He starts making love to my mouth; there’s no other word for it. So tenderly, his actions so tempered, I get lost in the feel, the taste of him sends tingles down my spine. It’s a kiss from a lover.
Impatient for more, I reach up my hand, trying to increase the pressure. But he ceases all movement, lifting his head away enough to get out the words, “This is my show, Sam.” His fingers caress my face, tracing the bruising.
“You won’t hurt me.”
“I could. You’re injured, darlin’.”
I need him so much, need him inside me, need him to erase the memories of the other men’s hands. “I don’t care.”
“But I fuckin’ do.” His mouth works as if he wants to say something else, and then a little shake shows he’s dismissed those exact words. “Sam, it killed me when you went missing.” The twisting of his face shows just how much it must have pained him. A man who likes control over everything—his club, his men. His woman. Is that what I am?
Is his reluctance due to something else? That another man’s touched me? I shiver for a different reason.
He doesn’t miss it, loosening his hold on my hair. “What’s up, Sam?” His mouth turns down. “I knew this was too soon.” I feel my eyes growing wet, a tear escapes, and he wipes it away. “Oh Sam, it’s over now. I’ve got you. I’ve fuckin’ got you.”
But worrying his hesitancy might have a different cause, I have to ask, have to know. “Does it bother you, Drum? What you heard those men do. What Kurt did…”
He rears back, the cold steel of his eyes suddenly blazing with fire. “What the fuck you asking?”
I swallow. “You might not want me…”
“Because another man’s had his fuckin’ hands on you?” His fingers rake through his hair, brushing it away from his face, the action revealing the slight greying at his temples. “Christ, Sam. I want to touch you all over, kiss you everywhere. I want to take every fuckin’ memory of those motherfuckers’ hands on you away. They touched what was mine. Oh fuck, babe, is that what you really think? That I wouldn’t want you now? You couldn’t be more fuckin’ wrong.”
“But you were kissing me as if you didn’t mean it. Like you didn’t want to.”
“Sam, Sam, Sam,” he says, as he takes my hand and places a light kiss to each of the fingertips and then to my palm. “I fuck women, Christ, you know that. That first time with you…”
I shake my head. “Drum, you didn’t know.”
“Hush, let me finish, will you?” His fingers now cover my mouth. “I fuck. But for the first time in my life, I want to make love. And fuck me, I must be doing it all wrong if you think I don’t want you. You’re going to have to help me out here; I don’t know what to do.” His face twists in a self-deprecating grin. It makes him look boyish and younger.
Then his words filter into my brain. He wants to make love to me? I give a short laugh. “I don’t have any experience in that area, either. It’s only been you, Drum.”
He chuckles. “Then let’s play this by ear. We’ll find our own way to do it, no need to try to copy someone else. You up for that?”
I nod, knowing I’m giving him back the control he desires, and settle back to enjoy the ride.
Again his mouth meets mine, and immediately I open my lips. Now understanding, I let our tongues slide together, mating gently, enjoying the unhurried pace which works to ramp up my desire. I writhe under him as my arousal grows, feeling his hard length pushing against my side. He kisses me until my senses are full of nothing but the scent of his soap tinged with leather and the touch of his mouth on mine. My eyes close as he takes me to new heights.
Gradually he pulls away, his lips slowly leaving mine, and I watch him as he takes the bottom of my t-shirt and begins to draw it up. I lift my body so he can remove it completely. As his eyes land on the scars already forming on the whip marks over my breasts, his face tightens, and gently, oh so gently, he traces each one with his fingers. When his eyes flit to mine, I give a dismissive shake. I don’t want to discuss them. Not now. It’s enough that while they upset him, he can ignore them.
He moves his mouth over my breasts. First one, then the other, teasing the already hard peaks of my nipples until they stand even more erect. His tongue circles each aureole until I’m bowing my back, silently asking for more pressure as shooting sparks fly down to my clit. I feel him smile against my skin, and then he’s trailing kisses down, over my stomach, pausing to lick at my belly button, causing me to giggle and squirm.
“Mmm, ticklish, eh?”
There’s no need to answer, as slowly, oh so slowly and teasingly, his mouth moves south. Now he’s shuffling down the bed, rising to his knees, the loss of his body heat and the air conditioning causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Gently his hands grasp the sides of my panties, and, with a wicked grin, he tests the material, then pulls hard, and I’m naked. I grin, knowing my man is still in there, despite the atypical gentleness he’s showing.
He breathes on my clit, the warm huff such a sharp contrast from the cool air that I rise off the bed. His hand pushes me back down.
“Tell me the truth, Sam. Are you sore? Bruised? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“A bit tender, but I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want you, fine, darlin’, I want you writhing with pleasure.”
Oh God, I want that too.
“Tell me if anything I do causes you pain.”
As I nod my agreement, he, at last, puts his mouth there. Where I want it. Sucking my clit gently into his mouth, then moving his tongue down I feel him start lapping at my wetness, at my cream. He groans. “Fuck, you taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” The vibration of his voice makes my muscles tighten.
The sensations are driving me insane. I push up toward him, wanting more contact. Any residual pain completely obscured by the other wonders he’s doing to my body. Writhing again, I moan gently. Taking pity on me, he pushes an experimental finger inside, watching me carefully for any sign of discomfort or unease. But I’ve missed him so much, wanted this, needed this, my cries of satisfaction spur him on. He adds another finger, curling around. When he feels my body tighten, he leans over again, taking my clit between his teeth and circling his tongue around.
It’s been such a gentle journey, but now I’ve reached the end and am soaring over the top. My head thrown back, I suck in a deep breath then stop breathing, my muscles pulsating and contracting. The orgasm seems to go on forever. Perhaps not the strongest he’s given me, but one still powerful enough to bring tears to my eyes. With a gasp, my lungs start heaving again.
Opening my eyes, I see him dispensing quickly with his boxers. Now he’s pushing inside me, slowly, taking his time as he pushes through tissue swollen by my climax. He gains some ground and slides out again, my moisture slickening his way. He pushes back in, then out again gently
, going slow, being so careful not to hurt me, his muscles strain with effort, the V-twin engine of his tattoo vibrating with each movement.
Briefly, I drink my fill of the offering in front of me, and then when my eyes have seen enough, I reach for him, pulling him down to me, and raising my legs, dig my heels in either side of his spine. Then he’s as deep as he can go inside me, up against my cervix, a slight pressure that’s more pleasure than pain.
Still keeping himself under tight control, he starts to thrust languidly, a long pull out, a deep push in. Over and over and over. Each time hitting that spot inside me, forcing cries of incomprehensible encouragement to fall from my lips. His measured onslaught and unhurried strokes allow me to feel everything, and when his cock swells, it hurtles me again to the edge. With a loud scream, I go over, and he increases his momentum. A few short pumps and he’s coming inside me.
His roar of triumph announcing his completion, he collapses on top of me, then moves to his side. “Fuck, woman. Sam, fuck.” He pulls me in close, holding me tight to him. “Christ that was so fuckin’ good.” Then he chuckles. “Was that making love, d’you reckon?”
I smile against his skin. “Whatever it was, it was fucking good.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I know how to give my woman a good fuckin’.”
When our breathing returns to normal he pulls himself up on one elbow and looks down at my crotch, his hand gently smoothing across my mound. “Did I hurt you?”
Shaking my head, I touch my hand to his face. “No, Drum. You didn’t.”
“Hmm.” For some reason his smile disappears, and his lips purse.
Have I done something wrong? “Drum?” I venture tentatively.
“Didn’t use a fuckin’ condom babe. Fuck, I lose my mind around you.”
Tensing, I’m more worried about his reaction than mine. Kids? A baby? Do I want that now? He’s called me his woman, but that’s just for now, isn’t it? I can’t fool myself, he’s not a man who’d want someone permanent.
His hand now smoothing my brow, his expression one of concern. “I’m sorry, babe. This making love thing got me carried away. But we’ll deal, okay?”
Deal. Yes. But that doesn’t mean he wants me. “We don’t need to deal, Drum. I can—”
“Babe, whatever you’re thinking, just stop right now. You’re my woman, right? My fuckin’ ol’ lady. You’re mine.” His intense eyes stare into my wide-open ones.
“Your… your ol’ lady?”
“Guess I should have asked you first before branding you with my cum. But yeah, that’s what I want, darlin’. Never gonna want another bitch again after you.”
The words come easily. “I don’t want another man.”
He rolls me into him, kissing me gently before saying, “Guess that settles that, then.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Drummer…
Sam falls back into another exhausted sleep. The worry, stress, and fear of the last few days have taken their toll. And it’s my job to heal her.
Rising, I leave the bed and just stand for a while, watching as her chest gently rises and falls, relishing the reality that she’s here. Everything I said to her was true, even if I could never have predicted I’d be saying such things. Fuck, I hardly recognise the man I become when I’m with her. Maybe it would have taken longer if her abduction hadn’t forced me to come to terms with my feelings, but even if she hadn’t been taken away, compelling me to envisage a life without her in it, I would have come to this place eventually. She’s mine. I don’t want or need anyone else.
I haven’t told her the words, but I love this woman.
And forgetting a condom? I’ve never done that before in my life, reaching for the protective latex an automatic action. But shit, it had felt so good to be skin to skin inside her. Although I hadn’t realised what was making it so spectacular at the time, I’d only known the experience was unsurpassed. We’d made love. For the first time in my life, I knew I couldn’t apply the term fucking to describe what had transpired between us.
Had I known on some unconscious level? Had I wanted to mark her and truly make her mine? If I’d realised I’d gone without protection, would—could—I have stopped?
I’ve got no answer for that. Shaking my head, it dawns on me that the possible implications hold no concern for me. If I’d forgotten with anyone else, I’d have been tearing my hair out with worry. I want Sam in my life. All of her. I want everything that has to offer.
I shower and dress, then, donning my cut, make my way to the clubhouse. My brothers had me covered in my absence, allowing me the one uninterrupted night with Sam that I needed before entering the fray again. But in order to keep my woman safe it’s time to immerse myself in my role of president and take part in a council of war.
As I enter the clubroom, young Amy comes barrelling over, crashing into my legs, Crystal hot on her heels. She’d been aiming for Heart and I’d inadvertently gotten in the way. As her father steps forward, swinging her up in his arms, I get a tight feeling in my chest. Seeing the look of tenderness on my brother’s face as he tickles his daughter, her response a peal of giggles, I recognise my unfamiliar reaction as envy. Never having given much, if any, thought to having a child before, the emotion slams into me, taking me by surprise. Could I have put a baby in Sam’s belly already?
When I notice my contemplation has brought me to a halt, I make my feet move toward our meeting room where my brothers are ready and waiting for church. As last time, we have two extra seats filled by Devil and his cohort, Agent Haughton.
I toss them a glare and curse under my breath as I take my seat, annoyed at not having been asked to issue an invitation. Once again, we’ll need to keep tight-lipped about normal club business. Banging the gavel loudly, I call everyone to order.
Once quiet has settled, I get the meeting started by asking for an update. “How are the women, Joker?”
He sighs. “About as well as can be, Prez. A couple want to go straight home. I spoke to the agent there,” he breaks off to point his pen at Haughton, “and he said to persuade them to stay with the others until he can arrange transportation to take them. The task force can give them any assistance that they need.”
I nod. “Yeah, they’re better off together for now.” My brow furrows, and I look Haughton’s way. “But how long you talking about? You already called in your folks to collect the women? They’re going to need specialist help.”
“They should be out of your hair later this morning.”
He’s given me no reason to trust him, and his blank face suggests there’s something I’m not cottoning onto here. On the face of it, it sounds reasonable, but while he’s trying hard to temper his expression, the agent has got a shifty look in his eyes. He keeps looking away as if unable to meet mine.
Raising my brow, I turn toward Devil. The distortion of his scar makes him impossible to read. But from the intense stare he’s giving me I become certain he knows something, or at the least, is putting two and two together. And that something is what I’ll need to find out. I make a mental note to get him on his own after the meeting if whatever it is doesn’t come out here first.
“Prez?” Beef draws my attention with his hand, and I nod for him to spit out whatever’s on his mind. “Jill, Allie, and Pussy have been helping out with the women.” I know that. I was the one who directed the sweet butts to assist while hoping they’d stay in the background as their chosen way of life might have bad connotations for the kidnapped women.
“And?” I snarl, fearing I’m going to be told they’ve upset them.
“Turns out a couple of the women are quite interested in staying with us. As sweet butts,” he clarifies, in case I don’t understand.
My eyebrows rise, I didn’t see that coming.
“Fuck, yeah.” Tongue bangs the table.
“Shut it, Tongue. Beef, what’s that all a-fuckin’-bout?”
“I’ve had a chat with them. The girls in question worked a strip club befor
e, one which allowed up-close-and-personal with the clients. They weren’t as badly hurt as some of the others as they didn’t fight back when those motherfuckers had their way with them. They’ve been talking to Allie, understand that we provide for them here, and from what they’ve seen of us, have an appetite for biker cock.”
Rock leans back and makes a show of thrusting his hips. “Happy to show them mine.”
“Rock!” I growl. He sits forward again.
Hmm, well, with getting extra members in and losing the sweet butt Chrissy, I’d be lying if I said we couldn’t do with some extra whores.
“The ol’ ladies would be outnumbered.” Heart’s frowning. “It’s a good balance at the moment. After the trouble we had with Chrissy…” At my glare he stops talking. Agent Haughton doesn’t need to know about any of that.
I know something he doesn’t. An unusual smile spreads over my face. “That can be evened up. Sam’s gonna be my ol’ lady.”
“Fuck me!” Wraith stares at me.
“I’d rather not,” I reply in all seriousness.
“Huh! Not that I didn’t see it coming, but I thought it would take you longer to put your patch on her!” A smile spreads over my VP’s face.
Dart reaches for his smokes. “Congratulations, Prez.” His words are echoed around the table. One bit of much-needed good news for once. “This calls for a fuckin’ party!”
Yeah, like we don’t have enough parties around here, but there’s not going to be any partying until we’ve got out from underneath the slave traffickers’ threat.
I’m staring at the one brother who’s said nothing as yet, and my leg bounces under the table. While I want to know what he thinks, nothing he can say will alter my mind. I just need to be forewarned if I’m likely to get his fist coming my way again.
Viper’s staring at me, his face blank and unreadable, then it splits into a wide grin as he slaps his hand onto the table. “Fuck, yeah. Good on you, Prez. That’s mean’s she’s sticking around! Fuck yeah. Fuckin’ ace.” Well, it seems I’ve got his parental approval.
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