Fallen Rider (A Lost Saxons Novel Book 7)

by Jessica Ames

  He leans around me, his face nearly in my neck, as he slides the lock in place. I’m not sure if it’s possible to cease breathing through anticipation, but I may.

  “Kenzie?”

  I smile at my name on his lips.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, okay?”

  I nod because I absolutely want him to fuck me.

  He grins, then he goes to work on my neck. And I mean he goes to work. He sweeps my hair aside and kisses the dip between my throat and shoulder until I’m a writhing mess. I dig my fingers into his bicep to keep standing as I breathe hard. What is he doing? His hand stays locked to the back of my neck while his other teases the hem of my sweater up.

  His touch ghosts up my belly, eliciting shivers from me, before it slips into my bra. He starts to play with my nipple and I twitch against the touch. I’m going to come from this alone if he keeps it up.

  Blindly, I fumble towards him, and manage to get a hand to his jeans. I have no idea what I’m doing because my brain is short-circuiting, but I rub my hand up and down his cock, which is hardening beneath the denim. He’s enjoying this as much as I am.

  I gasp suddenly when he tweaks my nipple hard enough to bite.

  “Sorry, baby. Too hard?”

  I shake my head. I want him to keep going.

  “You like it a little rough?”

  I shrug. I’ve never had it rough. The guys I’ve been with previously were not the rough and ready type. Vanilla is the word that springs to mind.

  Dane makes a sound in the back of his throat that may be a laugh, I’m not sure. I don’t care either. He tugs my sweater over my head, finally getting impatient with the garment stopping him getting access to what he wants. My bra disappears next and then he works at the button on my jeans. When he slides them down my legs, leaving me in just my thong, I feel a shiver run up my spine as my anticipation grows.

  “I’m loving this look.” He rubs his thumb over his bottom lip as he drags his eyes up me. Then he orders, “On the bed, Mackenzie.”

  I do as he commands, climbing onto my back on the mattress and letting my thighs fall open in invitation. I should be nervous, embarrassed, but I’m not.

  He stares at me a moment before he shrugs out of his kutte and quickly removes his shirt, boots and jeans. In his boxer briefs, I can only admire his physique. He’s all hard edges and sculpted muscles beneath the ink work scattered over his body. He’s a work of art and I wish I had time to study them all, but he doesn’t give me a chance to look before he’s moving back over to me.

  He doesn’t waste time, going straight between my legs. He slides my underwear down my legs and off my feet before his mouth latches onto my clit. As soon as it does, my hips arch off the bed and my eyes squeeze shut.

  Oh, fuck…

  I fist the sheets beneath me as he licks and laps at me until I’m a writhing mess. I can barely see straight. Everything is twitching and pulsing. Bloody hell. I’ve never felt anything like it. His fingers add to the mix, one then two, then he adds a third, opening me up, preparing me for him. He pushes his fingers deep inside, hitting that spot that makes me go over the edge and I do so panting.

  He doesn’t give me a chance to recover before he’s reaching into his top drawer for a condom. Then, he’s on top of me, his large body engulfing mine as he rubs his length through my folds. He stares into my eyes and says, “Are you ready?”

  I nod.

  He pushes inside me. I gasp as he fills me completely from root to stem. The intrusion burns for a second before my pussy relaxes. He doesn’t take his eyes off me the entire time he stays seated inside, letting me adjust to him.

  Then he pulls back before he pushes into me. This is raw passion. He fucks me hard, slamming into me over and over with just enough bite to sit on the edge of pain, but to elicit that pleasure that is driving me wild.

  This doesn’t feel like fucking. It feels magnificent.

  I dig my nails into his back, dragging him closer to me, trying to force his thrusts deeper still, urging him harder. We’re animals, nothing more. There’s no sweetness here, nothing more than desire and need, and I do need him. For a few hours, I need what Dane can give me: I need to be wanted, cherished. I need everything he’s offering and more.

  I want him.

  Chapter Twelve

  I wake in Dane’s arms, his hand resting on one of my breasts. I smile to myself, unable to stop the movement of my lips as I remember what we did last night.

  It was… phenomenal.

  Messaging my sister to tell her I wouldn’t be back to the room was not. No doubt she’ll have questions, but I’ll worry about that later.

  I trace signs on his skin, signs that say how much I feel for him, giving him words covertly that are not ready to be spoken freely yet. My feelings for Dane are growing with each day and becoming stronger, but I’m not sure where his head is at. He likes the physical side of our relationship, but he’s not really been forthcoming about the other side of things. Although Dane doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to open up about his feelings.

  His hand moves, squeezing my tit, and I realise he’s awake.

  “This is better than you sneaking out.”

  I hate that I hurt him by doing that at the wedding, but at the time it felt right.

  I want to give him words, to assure him I have no plans of sneaking out again, but my phone is on the bedside table and I don’t want to ruin the moment by reaching for it, especially not when I’m spooning him, my back to his chest. Instead, I content myself with him stroking up and down my arm. The gesture is soothing.

  Then again, every time I’m around him, I feel soothed. Dane makes all my problems seem far away. I don’t know how he does it, but somehow, he calms the inner turmoil in me.

  “Your brothers, my club… they’re not going to be happy we’re together.”

  I snag my phone off the bedside table and turn to face him. There’s a hint of worry beneath his hard expression that has my stomach tingling with anxiety. I type my response and let it play.

  “They won’t be. Do you want to end this?” I nibble on my bottom lip as it plays, dreading what his answer might be.

  “Fuck no, I don’t. Do you?”

  I shake my head. I really don’t.

  “But what do we do here, Mackenzie?”

  I swallow hard and shrug. There’s no good answer. We come clean, we risk the wrath of both our clubs, but I don’t want to keep this in the dark either. I want to be with him.

  Besides, Slade knows about us already, Foz probably suspects something more is going on, and Beth is definitely suspicious. Not to mention Lola saw us last night. It’s only a matter of time before it comes out. We’re also in a war, and that is not so safe.

  “Maybe we do nothing yet. My family need to be focused on the Reapers right now, not what I’m doing.”

  He kisses my nose. “Yeah, baby, I see that, but you have to know you’re mine and I’m not giving you up. I don’t care what they say, whether they approve or don’t. I won’t walk away from what we have.”

  Tingles race through me at his possessiveness.

  “I’m yours?”

  “Yeah, Mackenzie. I thought I was making that clear here.”

  “You’re mine too,” I type before I lean forwards a little and brush my mouth over his, feeling safe and wanted in his arms.

  “Teach me some more sign language,” he says as he brushes my hair off my face. “And not just the rude shit this time. Teach me, so we can talk properly.”

  My heart swells at this and I spend the next hour or so showing him basic words. He’s a good learner, fast, but he has a long way to go before he’ll be proficient enough to understand me. In the meantime, I have my phone to communicate with him.

  A pounding on the door makes my stomach clench. Both our eyes go to it before Dane comes off the bed, standing between me and whoever lies on the other side. Then he strides to the door. I barely have time to pull the sheet over me before he yanks
it open, revealing Axel on the other side.

  So much for keeping things on the down-low…

  Axel’s gaze moves to me, his eyes not giving anything away before he slides his gaze back to Dane.

  “Well, this is a complication we don’t need,” he says.

  Dane makes a low growl in his throat. “She’s not a complication, and you refer to her like that again and I’ll knock your teeth down your fucking throat.”

  Axel doesn’t flinch at this threat, despite the fact his VP is bigger and brawnier than him.

  “While you were up here getting your rocks off, National turned up. They’re in the common room losing their shit at Dax. You might want to put some pants on and come down to have his back.”

  “Fuck,” Dane mutters under his breath, reaching for his jeans. He pulls them up over his boxers and quickly rummages for a tee.

  “I’ll be down in a second,” he tells Ax. “Shut the door.”

  Axel gives me a look that I can’t figure out before he reaches out and pulls the door closed.

  I quickly type on my phone, “So much for not letting anyone know. Now Axel and Lola know.”

  Dane glances up from where he’s stomping his feet into his boots. “Lola won’t say shit.”

  “And Axel? Why didn’t you give me time to hide?”

  “Because you’re not some big dirty secret, Mackenzie. I’m not going to hide you. If people don’t like us being together, that’s their problem. I won’t apologise for taking what I want. Neither should you.”

  His words do make my stomach flip-flop, but there’s also the reality of this. People are going to be hurt by our actions. It puts both our clubs in a difficult position.

  “What if National tells you that you have to back off, that you have to ship us back to Kingsley?”

  He twitches. “They can get fucked. I’m not sending you or any of those women back into danger.”

  “They’re your National Chapter, Dane. You might not have a choice.”

  He stands, snagging his kutte off the back of the chair at the side of the bed and shrugging into it.

  “There’s always a choice.” Fully dressed, he moves over to the bed, putting a knee to the mattress and takes my mouth. “I’d say wait here, but these things can take a while. Come to me tonight?”

  The answer I should give is no. Axel saw us, Lola saw us—things are getting out of hand, but I find myself nodding. I want to come back. I want to be in his bed.

  “Help yourself to whatever you need. I’ll see you later, baby.”

  He pushes up from the bed and with what looks like immense reluctance, heads for the door.

  As soon as he disappears through the door, I climb out of the bed and quickly jump in his shower. It’s nice to be able to clean myself without wondering if someone else is waiting to use the communal shower near our room, so I take my time washing my hair.

  When I’m done, I get out of the shower, wrapping one of the towels on the rail around my body and head back into the room. I dress in what I was wearing last night, not sure it’s a good idea to go parading around in Dane’s clothes, even if they’re clean.

  I open the door and step into the hallway. With hindsight, I should have checked to see if it was clear, but I just assumed the corridor would be empty. It’s not.

  A voice mutters, “So, the Saxons’ Princess hooked herself a Devils’ Prince.”

  I jolt and spin to see Lola standing in the doorway of one the rooms across the hall. It looks as if she just came out of one of the rooms herself, and I find myself wondering who she was hooking up with. I haven’t met all the brothers officially, but I know most of them by sight now, so I’d hazard a guess it was Mouse, Ace or maybe even the club’s resident doctor, Leech.

  Lola is a redhead, but her roots suggest she’s naturally a brunette. She’s tiny and delicate, but there’s a belly full of sass she can’t hide. The Saxons don’t have bunnies, so I feel a little out of my depth. There are regular hangarounds who come to the clubhouse during parties, but they’re not part of the furniture like these girls seem to be.

  I pull my phone out, unsure what the heck I’m going to type to her to stop this gossip train in its tracks. Too many people know there’s something going on between me and Dane and I’d like my brothers to hear it from me first. They deserve that much respect.

  And they will hear it, because I’m completely sure I can’t give Dane up. Not now. Not after I’ve tasted him, not now after I’ve had him. There’s an inexorable pull between us that I can’t deny, that I don’t want to deny. I want Dane. There’s no question of that, but whether I can have him without heartache is another matter.

  “Something going on with you and Dane?” she asks before I can type.

  My brows draw together. How the heck do I make a gesture for this is none of your bloody business?

  She doesn’t give me time to answer anyway. Instead, she says, “Good luck with him. He’s a wild one. He’s been through us all over the years.”

  It shouldn’t sting. I know Dane’s a biker. I know what his life is and has been. I know he has a history before me, but it’s a kick to the gut. Has he been with Lola? Pepper? The other club bunnies?

  I don’t want to know, but part of me needs to know.

  But it’s his past.

  We all have one…

  I’m hardly a blushing virgin. I didn’t go to his bed with my virginity intact. Why would I expect him to?

  His past is just that… his past.

  I pull my text-to-speak app up and type in, “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you.”

  I forgo the added ‘bitch’ although I really want to give it to her.

  I channel my brother, Jem, and I give her a shit-eating grin. Then I turn and walk away from her, but the seeds of doubt are planted firmly in the garden, sowing discomfort and I have no idea how to stop them sprouting.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I don’t want to hear anything else Lola has to say, so I leave her standing there and take off up the corridor. I’m so incensed by her words that it takes me a moment to realise I’ve got myself turned around. I’ve never been in this part of the clubhouse and I have no clue where I am or how to get back to the common room.

  Finding a stairwell, I walk down the steps and end up on what must be the ground level.

  Just as I’m debating walking back the way I came, I hear raised voices. I pause. I don’t want to get caught where I shouldn’t be, but when I hear the word ‘Saxons’ my feet stop me in my tracks.

  I flatten myself against the wall and strain my ears to hear what is being said.

  “…not to get involved,” a deeply masculine voice declares.

  “They’re friends and allies.” Dax. That’s Dax’s voice. “I couldn’t stand back and do nothing.”

  “So you brought all their old ladies here?”

  Worse than that, Dax brought all the family here. I hope he’s not about to get into trouble for his actions.

  “I did what I had to do. I won’t step back and let friends of the Devils drown.”

  “I like the Saxons too. I respect the fuck out of Derek, but the last thing we need is to get dragged into this shit storm between them and the fucking Reapers.”

  There’s a snort, then, “You’re not scared of those little shitheads, are you?”

  “What do you think, fucknuts?”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “You were given a direct order. That’s my problem.”

  “No offence, but this is still my club.”

  “I’m not—”

  “We’re not sending those women away,” Dane’s voice snaps through the other man’s. “I don’t give a fuck what you say. We’re not.”

  “No one asked for your opinion.”

  “Whether you asked for it or not, you’re getting it, Maverick.”

  Maverick… he’s the London chapter’s president. He sounds pissed as he grinds out, “Maybe you should remember who the fuck is in charg
e here.”

  “I have one president, and that’s Dax.”

  There’s silence for a moment, and my heart begins to beat at a gallop in my chest. I hold my breath as I try to listen over the sound of the blood pounding through my ears. While I appreciate Dane going toe to toe with his National Chapter, I don’t want him to get into trouble for it either.

  “If you want to push this, Dane—”

  “Okay, let’s just take a breather,” Dax interjects. “Dane’s right, though. We’re not kicking those women out and leaving them vulnerable.”

  “Yeah, you are because if you don’t, Dax, I’ll have your fucking patch.”

  “You fucker! You can’t do that.” I hear the anger, the rage in Dane’s voice.

  My heart sinks. How much danger have the Devils—has Dax—put himself in for me and my family.

  “You can take my patch off my cold, dead body,” Dax tells him, his voice low. “I earned my stripes. I did my time in the trenches. No one is pulling me from my position unless it’s my boys. They decide they don’t like how I’m doing shit, I’ll stand down, but not for you or any other fucker.”

  “Dax, come on, man,” Maverick says, his tone more conciliatory, “I know you’re smart. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I keep my word and I gave my word to Derek that I’d be there when his club needed me.”

  “And you’re willing to walk in the fire with him, Dane? You know you could be president once we remove this fucker—if you toe the line.”

  I hold my breath, waiting for Dane’s response.

  “Are you kidding me right now? Do you think I’d stand against Dax? He’s my president and I’d die for him, and honestly, I happen to agree with him on everything going on here.”

  “You’re willing to fall from grace for this nothing club?” Maverick sounds incredulous.

  “We’re willing to fall from grace for people we consider friends,” Dax murmurs.

  “One of them is my old lady,” Dane says and my heart nearly stops.

  What the hell is he talking about? He called me ‘his’ this morning, but there’s a huge difference between him being possessive and officially claiming me. Saying this means something. It means something big, something big that can’t be taken back easily.