“I’ll make you feel good. Swear it,” he murmurs.
His hand gently wraps around my neck before he lets it fall between my breasts, down my stomach, and to my center, where he swirls his fingers around my clit and then fills me with two of them.
I sigh as I spread my thighs wider, his fingers filling me over and over, curling inside of me every so often. Then his palm presses against my clit, and I can’t hold back the moan of pleasure.
“Always, I’ll always make you feel good. Now lie down and spread your legs for me,” he orders.
I bite the corner of my lip and nod. Moving to lie on my back, I close my eyes and spread my legs. It isn’t far enough, because his hands wrap around the inside of my thighs and he pushes them further, to a point where my muscles burn. Then his hands wrap around my waist as he pulls me closer to the edge of the bed.
Paxton fills me quickly, with one abrupt, hard thrust, falling over me as he plants his hands on either side of my head, his arms locked so that no part of him, other than his cock and pelvis, are touching me. I lift my hands to wrap around his neck, and he gives me a sharp shake of his head.
“No touching me,” he announces.
I don’t understand why he doesn’t want me to touch him, but I comply with his demand and fist the bedding beside me, instead. Paxton doesn’t slowly pull out of me or ease back inside—rather, he fucks me hard, brutal, and with a force I’ve not felt from him before.
My eyes widen, each thrust harder than the last, and I force myself to relax, to exhale a breath and just accept him and the way he’s moving inside of me.
“Goddamn, fuck,” he grinds out as a sheen of sweat breaks out on his forehead. “Stay still.”
I bite my bottom lip, keeping my trembling legs as still as possible as I let out a breath from my nostrils. It’s getting hard to stay mannequin still as each thrust of his jars my body.
Each time his pelvis grinds against my clit, it feels so damn good, I want more. I want to roll my hips to search for more, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from doing just that.
“Pax,” I whimper.
One of his hands leaves its spot next to my head and wraps around my throat. He squeezes firmly, yet gently, as his eyes zero in on mine.
“This cunt is mine,” he grinds out.
“Yes,” I rasp.
“You’re mine, Cleo.”
“Always,” I whisper.
“Goddamn right, always,” he growls as his hips buck wilder, his rhythm completely broken. “Always, sweetheart. You’ll be mine always,” he whispers as he throws back his head and squeezes my throat a little tighter, letting out a long groan. His cock twitches inside of me as he comes.
“Paxton,” I rasp when he finally lets my throat go.
He doesn’t say anything as his hand moves between us and he starts to play with my clit.
“Move, sweetheart. Take from me,” he demands.
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I wrap my legs around his waist and finally move, my orgasm already on the brink, and I take from him. With my eyes focused on his, I arch my back and I come with nothing more than a whimper.
Paxton lowers his face and continues to stroke me as he fills my mouth with his tongue, fucking me as his hips gently thrust into my pulsing pussy. When he stops moving, he rips his lips from mine and moves his hand from between my legs only to wrap it around the side of my neck.
“Missed you,” I whisper.
“Missed you, too,” he chuckles.
He starts to push off of the bed, but I wrap my shaking legs around his waist and hold him to me.
“Please stay,” I whisper.
“You need that, sweetheart, you fuckin’ got it,” he mutters as his nose skims my chin and his lips touch behind my ear.
I take in a deep breath and then I ask him what I tried to earlier. “Why do you make me be still, sometimes?”
Paxton lets out a long breath against my neck before he speaks.
“Control. I like control, especially during sex. But it’s more than that. When I was in the military, the job I did. Sometimes if you moved the wrong way you or your men could die. That shit leaked into my head and if I feel like I don’t have control, if I feel like anything is off, then I gain it the only way I know how.”
“By demanding I stay completely still?” I ask as I run my fingers over his warm back.
“Yeah, sweetheart. If you’re still, you’re breathin’,” he explains.
I don’t fully understand him, but I respect his needs so if me being statue still, sometimes, helps him then I’ll do it. And he always feels good and makes me feel good, so it’s not a complete hardship.
“I don’t like you leaving me,” I admit after a few minutes of quiet.
“It’s only a couple weeks, and it’s only every couple of months,” he murmurs against my neck, his lips grazing my skin.
“Rationally, I know that. Irrationally, I’m afraid you won’t come back at all,” I admit.
“Sweetheart,” he moans as he lifts his head to look at me. I watch as sadness crosses his features. Then he smiles, also sadly, before he speaks. “I’m ready now, for everything. I’m ready for the good, the really fuckin’ great, the bad, and the really fuckin’ ugly. Not goin’ any damn where, baby.”
I burst into tears, losing him when I let out a sob that makes my entire body jump. Paxton acts as though I don’t affect him. He stands and picks me up, cradling me before he crawls, with me in his arms, to the center of the bed. With his back against the headboard he holds me.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs as his fingers comb through my hair.
“I just—I never thought I’d have you again, and, and, and I’m afraid I’m going to lose you all over again; and I’ve been a bitch, and I’ve been standoffish, and I’m a horrible person,” I blubber incoherently.
It’s Paxton’s turn to burst into emotion, but instead of crying, he throws back his head and starts laughing. I lift my head and watch him, half in awe of how gorgeous he is when he’s laughing, and half pissed off that he’s laughing at me.
“Clee, baby, you’re crazy as shit, woman,” he grins once he stops laughing.
“What?” I whisper.
“You’re batshit crazy, Cleo. You been a bitch for about half a second, I deserved a fuck’ve a lot more attitude for what I did to you, and for the amount of time I did it, too. I also know where you’re comin’ from when you say you’re afraid I may not come back. You don’t fully trust me yet, and I don’t expect you too, either. We’ll get moved into our place, get a regular routine goin’, and we’ll settle. All of this shit will be just a really fuckin’ bad memory.”
“I hope you like the place I picked,” I say, changing the subject as I wipe the tears from my eyes. I don’t want to talk about the past a second longer, or how absolutely batshit crazy I feel.
“Nice segue,” he chuckles as he presses his lips to mine and nibbles on my bottom lip for a moment. “Let’s get some sleep. Drivin’ like that, and all the shit with the cops and Soar—goddamn, I’m worn to shit,” he mutters.
“Okay, Pax,” I whisper.
We crawl beneath his sheets, both of us completely naked, and then he pulls me against his chest, my head resting on the hard muscle of his peck, and my arm curled around his middle.
I let out a contented sigh as he strokes my hair, soothingly combing his fingers through it like he did while he was trying to calm me down. I find myself being lulled into sleep almost immediately.
TORCH
I don’t fall asleep immediately, though I’m tired as shit. My mind won’t shut off. I keep thinking about Cleo’s fears and how she’s not all that crazy for thinking them.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have ever even looked for her had The Cartel not been a plausible threat to her. And originally, I was going to keep her safe and then get my ass back to Idaho.
Closing my eyes, I let out an exhale of breath. I can’t leave her now, even if I wanted to. I don’t think I coul
d. She’s so much more than the girl I remember.
She’s stronger, fiercer, and yet still that sweet, vulnerable Clee from all those years ago, all rolled into one.
She’s Old Lady material, flat out, Old fucking Lady material. And I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t excited for our future.
Moving her hair to the side, I freeze when I look at her shoulder. I can’t believe I’m just noticing it, and my eyes widen when I realize what is tattooed on her body. Without a thought, I shake her awake and her eyes pop open as she sucks in a breath of air.
“What the fuck did you do?” I ask, narrowing my eyes on her.
“What?” she asks with wide eyes.
“Your arm?”
“Oh, that?” she whispers.
“Yeah, baby, that,” I growl.
“Is it not right? I went to the person Mary-Anne went to. She said he did all the Old Lady’s tattoo’s,” she rambles.
There, on her shoulder, delicately and beautifully, is my road name. Torch. It’s written in a circle; and if you didn’t know what you were looking at, it really just looks like circle of swirls. But it’s my name—my fucking name etched in her skin, permanently.
“I should be pissed as fuck,” I grunt as my fingers gently trace her skin.
“Why? Do you not like it?” she asks as her bottom lip starts to tremble.
“Fuckin’ love it, sweetheart. I should be pissed that you went without me. It’s tradition. Your man takes you for your brand,” I explain. I then watch as her eyes well up.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she whispers as her tears fall.
I roll her onto her back and press my lips to hers, shoving my tongue inside of her, fucking that sweet mouth of hers until her legs spread and her hips start to move. Then I gently lift my hips and slide my cock inside of her.
“I thought you could take me for my nipple piercings,” she breathes as she wraps her legs around my waist.
“Yeah?” I ask in surprise, my hips gently thrusting.
I take her soft, seeing as I fucked her harder than I ever have before just a few hours ago.
“Mmmm,” she hums as her back arches.
“My Cleo, wearing my brand, then wearing my diamonds in her gorgeous tits,” I growl before I shove my face into her neck.
“Just in my tits?” she asks breathlessly.
“Want a ring, sweetheart, go pick one out at work. I’ll buy it for you,” I moan as my dick continues to take her, slower and gentler than I want to.
“Yeah, I want to wear your ring, Pax,” she says with a hitch to her breath.
“Whatever it is you want, sweetheart, anything at all, it’s yours, baby,” I moan, meaning every fucking word.
Slipping my hand between us, I stroke her clit with my thumb, feeling her wetness grow around me as I do. Then her pussy clamps down, and I let myself go, gently easing in and out of her until my balls tighten. With a pinch of her clit, I bring her over the edge as I allow myself to fall at the same time.
“Paxton,” she cries.
“Fuck, yeah, whatever you want,” I growl against her neck. My teeth sink into her skin, my cum filling her tight cunt. “Whatever.”
* * *
“It’s practically suburban,” I mutter as Cleo opens the front door.
The house is newer, in a nice neighborhood, and I’m assuming the neighborhood watch isn’t gonna like my bike roaring down the street at all hours of the day and night.
But the way Cleo is looking, her excitement practically oozing out of her, I can’t deny her a fucking thing. If my woman wants to live in suburbia, so fucking be it.
“You have to see the backyard. It’s what sold me,” she giggles as she wraps her hand around mine and pulls me toward the back.
I don’t even see the living room or kitchen, as they’re a blur when we walk past them. Cleo throws open the sliding glass door and then stops, causing me to almost run her over. I look up and my eyes widen. Her pool.
“I’m so excited to have a pool,” she whispers.
I grin, wrapping my hand around her belly and pulling her back into my chest as my head dips down and my lips skim her neck.
“It doesn’t really get hot enough for a pool, sweetheart,” I whisper against her skin, hating to burst her bubble.
“I don’t care,” she says. She turns her head, then her body, in my arms, forcing me to lift my head from her neck.
“I just want to lie by it, soak up the sun, and maybe have a party or two,” she grins. It’s infections, and I find myself smiling down at her as her arms wrap around my neck.
“Okay, sweetheart. Pool parties, suburbia, and you in a bikini. I’ll fuckin’ take it,” I say with a laugh. “Who do I pay for the deposit and shit?”
“I already paid,” she shrugs.
My eyebrows shoot straight up and then I scowl. No woman of mine pays for shit, and I tell her as much. She was just supposed to put something down to hold it, not pay for it all.
“You were gone, and I didn’t want to lose it,” she defends.
“Who’s on the lease?” I ask, taking a step back from her and putting my hands on my hips.
“Me,” she shrugs.
“Fuck that. We’re goin’ down to the landlord right fuckin’ now and changing that shit,” I announce.
“Paxton,” she hisses.
“No woman of mine pays for shit, Cleo. That’s nothin’ new to you,” I growl.
I watch as she actually rolls her eyes at me before she throws up her hand.
“Well, we better do it today then, macho man, because I have to work tomorrow.”
She skirts past me, and I can do nothing but watch her ass as she goes. I’m shocked as shit she’s not fighting me. A smile tugs on my lips as I shake my head at my crazy woman.
Then I look back at the pool and imagine her in a little bikini, my smile widening at the thought. Yeah, I’ll survive living in suburbia for that sight.
“Are you coming?” she asks, poking her head out of the door.
“Yeah, baby,” I murmur, turning to make my way toward her.
“When can we move in?” she asks as we walk toward the Ranchero.
“I’ll get my shit moved over while you’re at work tomorrow, then you and the other Old Ladies are gonna have to go shopping to furnish the place. I don’t have much,” I grunt.
“And you’ll be paying for it all, I assume?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.
“Bet your sweet fuckin’ ass.”
“Macho man,” she mumbles.
I reach back and give her ass a slap, telling her damn right before she slides into the passenger seat of the car. I drive us straight to our new landlord to get her money back and pay for the deposit, rent, and add my name to the lease.
We’re married, but I’m a man—I’m her man—and I’m going to take care of her, the way I should have been doing the past fucking decade.
Chapter Twenty
CLEO
The last two weeks, I’ve felt settled. I don’t know how it happened, but Paxton and I have found ourselves in a routine. He’s taken some of the safety precautions down a notch, since nothing has happened to anyone.
He allows me to drive to and from work in his Rachero alone; but I’m only allowed to be scheduled for work when Lisandro is there as well, which I don’t mind even a bit.
“You want lunch?” Lis asks.
“No, I’m not feeling well,” I murmur.
“It’s the giant ring weighing on your finger. It’s making your equilibrium off,” he chuckles, lifting his chin to my new wedding ring.
The ring is a bit much, a little ostentatious and absurd, but I love it, nonetheless. I didn’t want a traditional wedding set. I’d had a small white gold wedding band for our original marriage that I keep in my makeup bag, but we’re not those same people anymore.
I decided to pick something different, yet beautiful. Lisandro just started carrying LeVian, and I fell in love with a cushion cut, peach Morganite stone ring. It
sits in a strawberry gold band, with vanilla and chocolate diamonds surrounding it.
“Do you think it’s too big?” I say with a frown, looking down at my hand.
“Not in the slightest. It’s gorgeous, and I gave him wholesale. If you’re worried about price, don’t be,” he smiles with a wink before walking up to me. “You sure no lunch?”
“I’m sure,” I sigh.
“This because you’re going to one of their parties tonight?” he asks as he gathers his things to head to lunch.
“No,” I lie. Lis rolls his eyes and walks out of the shop.
I’ve become friends with the Old Ladies I’ve met, and I really like them. But tonight is different. It’s a party, and not a family barbeque. Paxton has already warned me what it’s going to be like, and I’m more than just a little nervous.
I’m so nervous I’m sick. I shouldn’t be. It’s not as though Paxton will do anything or let anything happen to me, but it’s the unknown and the whores.
I’m still not comfortable with the fact that Paxton has slept with at least one of the whores at the clubhouse; and I honestly never want to see Honey ever again.
“What a surprise to see you here,” a man’s voice says. I look up in shock.
It’s Mr. Garcia, from my old job. I feel that unease wash over me at seeing him again. He creeped me out, totally creeped me out. He seemed really nice the first time I met him, although his gaze was a little intense, but it was the way he asked me out; that made me completely uneasy.
Now that he’s in front of me, it’s even creepier, I don’t know how the hell he even found me. His beady eyes roam from my waist up to my face and then settle on my breasts with a grin before he lifts them to my eyes again.
“How can I help you?” I ask.
“You stood me up,” he grunts, stepping closer to me.
“I—I’m sorry. My husband and I got back together,” I truthfully admit.
“Husband,” he states as his eyes dart down to my hand.
“We were separated,” I explain.
I don’t know why I feel the need to explain a damn thing to him. I’d already told him we were estranged when he asked me out.
The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet Page 130
