The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet

by Faiman, Hayley

  “I missed my Old Lady. I missed you. All I could think was that you were here cooped up alone.”

  “Is that all?” I ask.

  “Honesty?”

  I nod and wait for his answer, bracing myself for whatever it is that he’s going to throw my way.

  “I’m so scared of completely fucking up, sunshine. One hit, one drop of X, one line, and I’m back in the joint,” he murmurs before he turns to me and pulls me into his arms. “One whore, and I’ll hurt you, probably lose you forever. I’d die without you, baby, and I’m so scared of ruining everything we’ve got going for us right now.”

  Closing my eyes, I think about his words, about his fears. He’s right. One night with a whore, and I’m gone, for good this time. There will be no sweet words to bring me back.

  No matter how much I love him, I just can’t let myself be that pathetic person anymore, letting him make me feel completely worthless.

  “Sloane,” I whimper.

  He rolls on top of me, his lips brushing mine so gently that it sends chills over my body. Then he just stares into my eyes, his hips between my thighs, his elbows holding his body up on either side of my head. His green eyes bore into mine with an intensity that I’ve never felt before.

  “I love you, Imogen. The last thing I want to do is hurt you again. I think I’ve hurt you enough to last for ten lifetimes. You get honesty from me, and that’s me being honest. I’m scared, sunshine.”

  I nod at his words. I’m scared, too—terrified.

  “I’m scared, but we’re going to work, baby. You and me,” he murmurs before pressing his lips to mine again.

  His tongue slides out to taste my lips, and I moan as he slips further into my mouth. I can feel the firm length of his erection pressing against my center, and I throw back my head on a cry.

  We haven’t had sex since my accident, but he’s brought me pleasure on more than one occasion. It’s just not enough. I want to feel him inside of me, taking, owning, pleasuring me like only his cock can do.

  “I want you to ride me, Imogen,” he rasps against my neck as he kisses his way down to my collar bone. His tongue tastes my skin and I let out a long groan.

  “My face,” I whisper.

  “Is fucking gorgeous. I can’t be on top, sunshine. I’ll hurt your ribs,” he mutters against my skin.

  I nod, completely unbelieving of his kind words about my face. He rolls onto his back and I watch as he yanks off his boxer briefs.

  I quickly remove my sleep shorts and tank set, trying not to think about the bruises on my face or on my stomach and sides as I straddle his hips.

  Sloane’s hands slide from my knees to the outside of my thighs, the sides of my waist and up to cup my breasts. I let out a shuttered breath as he pinches my nipples and tweaks them slightly.

  “You still on your birth control?” he asks. My entire body freezes.

  “My what?” I whisper in surprise.

  “Your birth control, whatever the fuck you take, you still on it?” he murmurs, his eyes zeroed in on his fingers playing with my nipples.

  “I, uh,” I sigh as I close my eyes, relishing how good it feels when he touches me. “It’s a pill. I take it every morning.”

  “Throw that shit in the trash, Imogen.”

  “Sloane,” I whisper.

  “Sink down on my hard cock, sunshine. No more birth control. No more waiting. We’re making a baby. We’re living this life to the fullest. That shit starts now,” he announces.

  “What about your fears? Everything you just said?” I ask in confusion.

  He grins and tugs on both of my nipples before he slides his hands down to my waist, giving me a gentle squeeze.

  “I’m scared. But, baby, I’m going to be scared about slipping tomorrow and every day after for the rest of my life. Especially since the damage I would inflict wouldn’t only be on me but on you, too. There’s no guarantees, but if we sit around scared to death, we’ll never live. You won’t have your babies, and I won’t have a wife that smiles so bright she blinds me like the goddamn sun. So, no more pills, sunshine.”

  “I want you to be sure. This isn’t something you can take back or change your mind on,” I warn.

  “Almost forty years old, baby. I think it’s about time I stop thinking about myself all the time and start working on making your dreams come true, don’t you?” he asks. He tucks a bit of fallen hair behind my ear, careful not to hurt my face.

  “Sloane,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes. “I want you to be happy, too, and you don’t want them.”

  “Promised you babies, sunshine. I’m delivering that promise to you. Told you that I didn’t want them because of fear, not because I couldn’t love them. You’re going to be a beautiful mama, and I’m going to be their roughneck daddy. Now climb up on this dick, Imogen,” he growls.

  I do as he asks and sink down on his hard length, sighing when I’m fully seated down around him. I look into his eyes, and he only smirks at me before he gently bucks up, causing me to gasp slightly.

  “Ride me nice and slow, baby,” he murmurs.

  Leaning back, my fingers gripping his thighs, I do as he demands. I ride my man slow, with purpose, and with complete delight. Every roll of my hips sends shivers up my spine. When his thumb presses against my clit, I let out a moan of appreciation.

  “You’re going to make me come too fast,” I whimper.

  “You don’t get there, sunshine, and it’ll be over,” he murmurs. “The sight of you enjoying yourself the way you are, your tits swaying with each move you make; goddamn, I’m on edge, baby.”

  I smirk as I continue to move in a way that is apparently keeping him on edge. Except, with the added pressure of his thumb against my clit, I find myself in the same predicament. I shudder and cry out as I come all around him.

  My pussy pulses, and he thrusts up inside of me a few times before he lets out a groan of his own. With heavy breaths, I look down at Sloane. His blond hair is messy, but his eyes are bright and his smile is wide.

  “Love you, Imogen,” he murmurs. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  “I’m a disaster,” I whisper as he gently rolls us over so that we’re on our sides facing each other. I lose his length from inside of me, and I miss him already.

  “No matter what, Genny, you’ve always been stunning. Swear to fuck, sunshine, no matter what,” he rasps before his lips press against mine.

  “Get some sleep, baby.”

  I close my eyes and do as he asks.

  Sleep finds me almost immediately.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  IMOGEN

  A loud noise causes me to jump. I sit straight up, my hair a ratty mess, and my body bare. The loud noise happens again, and I realize that it’s someone at the door.

  I glance to Sloane’s side of the bed, but he’s gone. The pounding noise sounds again, and I hurry to grab Sloane’s discarded shirt from the night before and a pair of panties.

  Looking through the peephole I gasp at who is on the other side. Pulling my brows together, I answer the door just as the man lifts his hand to bang on my door again.

  “Can I help you?” I ask immediately.

  “Hey there, Mrs. Huntington,” he says smoothly.

  It only takes me a second to realize it’s the highway patrol officer who pulled me over. I don’t respond as I stand at the door and just look at him.

  “Sloane’s probation officer is on his way. I suspect he’s got some drugs in this place, maybe some guns too,” he murmurs as he places his hand on my stomach and pushes me to the side.

  He walks into my living room and looks around. “Alone tonight?” He smirks.

  “What do you want? There’s nothing in here, and I didn’t invite you in,” I state.

  He grins, “Sweetheart, you don’t have to invite me anywhere. Your husband is an ex-con on parole, this is his residence, and I can walk in here any fucking time I want to.”

  His cocky grin is too much,
too wide, and way too sure of himself. I wrap my hands around my stomach as I press my lips together. Another man walks inside and he looks from me to the cop.

  “Tell me you did not drag my fucking ass out of bed for a home visit about a model prisoner and model parolee?” he grumbles.

  “Excuse me, what’s happening here?” I ask quietly from my place against the wall as I try to tug down Sloane’s shirt.

  “Sorry ma’am, I got a report from this officer that he has suspicions that your husband had a weapon and illegal drugs on the premises,” the probation officer murmurs.

  My eyes dart from man-to-man and I nod. He explains that he has the right to check the place. I glance at the clock and notice that it’s three in the morning.

  I don’t know where Sloane is. I watch as the two men go about searching my house. Then they request access to my bedroom. I give them a nod, even though I don’t want them anywhere near my room.

  A few minutes later, they emerge, and the probation officer shakes his head. “Sorry for disturbing your sleep, ma’am. Nothing was found.” He then turns to the police officer. “The next time you wake my ass up at two in the fucking morning, your shit better be solid.” He turns and walks out of the door, leaving me alone with the officer.

  “He’s a lucky fuck,” he murmurs as he walks closer toward me. My back is pressed against the wall. He gets so close that I can feel the heat of his body, and I shiver in disgust. “Next time I bring him back, he’ll find something. This was just a dry run.”

  “What do you want?” I whisper.

  He grins as his top teeth sink into his bottom lip, “Sweetheart, I want what was promised to me. Bayard has all but disappeared, and I’ve yet to have those sweet lips wrapped around my cock.”

  I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. He leans forward a little more and wraps his hand around the outside of my thigh.

  “Your lips are going to be wrapped around my cock. Your pussy is going to strangle me, and then I’m going to fuck your ass, Imogen. Sweet little society slut like you, I bet it’s going to be fucking fantastic.”

  I press my lips together to keep from throwing up in his face. His hand moves to the inside of my thigh, and I press my legs together as my heart starts to race.

  “As soon as Sloane’s ass is locked back up, I’m taking what Bayard promised me,” he whispers.

  “Do you mind taking your hands off of my wife, officer?” Sloane’s voice roars through the room. The officer, Houston—according to his name badge—smirks, not looking away.

  “Yeah, I’ll take my hands off of her, convict—for now,” he grunts before he pushes away from me and walks away.

  I stay with my back against the wall as my knees shake, threatening to buckle beneath me.

  I watch as Houston walks up to Sloane, so close that their noses practically touch. Sloane doesn’t say anything. His jaw ticks and his fists clench at his sides. His green eyes track Houston’s every move.

  Houston grins his cocky fucking grin. “Watch your back, Huntington. Your wife’s got a sweet little body. Can’t wait to fuck the shit out of her when you’re all locked up,” he cackles before he walks away.

  Once the door closes, I watch as Sloane’s body jerks, then he walks over and flips the lock. I don’t move from my spot against the wall as he starts to stalk me. “What the fuck just happened here?”

  “Sloane, I-I-…”

  His hand wraps around the front of my throat, and I snap my mouth shut. His eyes are ablaze with anger. “That fuck put his hands on you. He walked into my house and he put his goddamn hands on you, and I couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.”

  I lift my hand to wrap around the back of his neck as I look into his eyes. “Sloane, he doesn’t matter,” I murmur.

  “Like fuck he doesn’t matter,” he shouts.

  Lifting up on my toes, I press my mouth against his before I whisper against his lips. “I love you. Please don’t do anything that will take you away from me.”

  His hands wrap around my waist and fist in the shirt I’m wearing before his mouth consumes mine. His tongue fills me as he picks me up and presses my back against the wall. I lift my legs to wrap them around his waist as he fumbles with his belt.

  My panties are ripped from my body, and then he’s inside of me, filling me. “No man touches what’s mine,” he growls against my mouth as he slams into me.

  “Sloane,” I gasp as my fingernails dig into his shoulders.

  He grunts, his hips thrusting against mine, his pelvis grinding against my clit, causing me to gasp with each pump of his hips.

  I can feel my nipples hard against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, scraping against the fabric and sending goosebumps to break out over my skin.

  Sloane’s soft grunts fill the air as his body claims mine, my back pounding against the wall with each pump of his hips. “Come,” he demands.

  My head hits the wall hard, and I do just as he’s instructed. I come all around him. Sloane groans as his hips thrust with several, hard, quick strokes before he explodes inside of me on a shout.

  “He touches you again, and I’ll fucking kill him—cop or not.”

  He pulls out of me and takes a step back, his hand sliding through his hair before he zips up his pants.

  “Your parole officer was here, he searched the house with Houston,” I whisper. Sloane’s eyes lift to me in surprise. “Where were you?”

  He shakes his head. “I had some club shit come up and I was only gone an hour. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Let’s go to bed,” I suggest.

  He runs his hand over his face and nods. “They got me by the balls, sunshine,” he whispers.

  I hurry toward him, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my mouth to his.

  “Don’t let them affect you. It’s what they want.”

  Sloane’s forehead falls against mine and he exhales. “Love you, Imogen,” he breathes. “Let’s get to bed.”

  We walk to the bedroom hand-in-hand, not saying a word. Before we climb into bed, I slide his shirt from my body and drop it on the floor. His arms wrap around me and tug me against his body. It doesn’t take but a moment to fall asleep, and I know why.

  At the end of the day, no matter what’s happened, I always feel safe wrapped in Sloane’s arms.

  I roll over what seems like minutes later and find that the sheets are cold and empty beside me. With a frown, I sit up and touch my hand to my face, part of my new morning routine to check my swollenness.

  It actually feels better to the touch, so I slide out of bed and use the restroom before braving a look in the mirror.

  I let out a breath as I stare at myself. For the first time in days, I’m recognizable. I look like me, albeit battered and bruised, but my features are mine and they’re staring right back at me.

  I can see my eyes are bright and shining with tears at the sight. I let out a scream when I feel a warm hand slide around my waist. I’m so focused on my face that I hadn’t realized he was walking up behind me.

  Sighing, I turn my head as Sloane lowers his and brushes his lips across mine.

  “What’re you doing, baby?” he rasps.

  “Looking at my face. All of the swelling is almost gone,” I murmur.

  “Fucking beautiful, sunshine,” he mutters as his hand slips down to cup my bare pussy.

  I shiver in his arms. I move to wrap one of my hands around his wrist that’s at my pussy and the other around the back of his neck, touching the back of his hair.

  “Sloane.”

  “Ride my hand, baby,” he rasps, slipping two fingers inside of me.

  He presses his palm against my clit as his tongue snakes out, licking the side of my neck before he gently sucks.

  “Oh, god,” I moan, doing what he asks.

  Riding his perfect hand, his fingers fucking me and his warm bare chest pressed against my back, I cry out to god, again.

  “You’re beautiful, Imogen,” he states, wrapping
his hand around my jaw and forcing my face to the mirror, keeping me forward. My eyes fly to meet his instantly. “Look at yourself, baby.”

  My eyes move from his face to mine, my hips still jerking in his hold, riding him and bringing myself closer toward a climax.

  “Do you see just how beautiful you are?” he asks. I try to shake my head, but his grasp is too firm. “My wife, more beautiful today than ever.”

  “I’m still bruised, still marked,” I say, denying his words.

  “Yeah, you’re marked, right here on your hip,” he grunts as his hand falls from my chin to wrap around and squeeze my tattooed hip. “But I’m talking about your face, sunshine. This face, it’s the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. Rendered me speechless when you were fifteen years old, and still renders me fucking speechless now. A couple bruises won’t change that.”

  “Baby,” I whisper as I turn my head and press my lips to his.

  My orgasm quickly consumes me, and my thighs shake, my pussy pulsing around his fingers and my tongue slipping inside of his mouth. He lets me be in control of the kiss until my body finally relaxes against him.

  Sloane removes his fingers from inside of me, and in one lightning fast thrust, replaces them with his cock—to the hilt. I let out a gasp and tilt my hips for him, throwing my head back and bracing my hands on the edge of the vanity.

  “Your face renders me speechless, you’re so goddamn beautiful, Imogen. But like this, your pussy filled with my cock, you’re spectacular. Arch back for me a little more, sunshine,” he softly asks.

  I do. For him, I do, and I always will.

  I lift my face and lock eyes with his. Watching as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, he completely focuses on me, on my eyes, and on my face as he slowly fucks me. Sloane is in control now. He gave that to me last night, but not anymore.

  My breasts sway with each thrust from his hips. His eyes glance down and his teeth press further into his bottom lip as his fingers squeeze my hips a little tighter. Driving his cock up inside of me causes me to shiver in delight.

  “I plan on filling this sweet pussy of yours with my cum, sunshine, and filling your belly with my baby,” he rasps as his gaze shifts from my breasts to my eyes again.