Chaotic Anger: The Seven MC Book 1

Home > Other > Chaotic Anger: The Seven MC Book 1 > Page 32
Chaotic Anger: The Seven MC Book 1 Page 32

by Breck, A. R.


  She pales a little. “N-no. I can’t. I’ve got to go. If I miss my flight, that won’t be good.”

  “Why?” I hiccup. “Just take the next one.”

  She shakes her head, punching buttons on her phone. “An Uber is already on their way. They’ll be here soon.”

  My shoulders drop. I don’t want our time to be over.

  She sees the look on my face and wraps me in a hug. “We will talk soon. I promise. This is definitely not the end of us.”

  My eyes tear up and I wipe them away before any can fall.

  We exchange numbers, and before long, I watch Katie through the gate as she waves goodbye in the back of an Uber.

  27

  Aziel

  Later that night, Ivy gives Lilah a bath and tucks her in bed. Lilah called out for me, so I waltzed into her bedroom with a raised eyebrow. She patted the spot next to her on her Frozen comforter set. With a heart beating inconsistently, I slink down on one side of the bed with Ivy on the other, the both of us sandwiching Lilah between us as Ivy reads a story about a girl that likes the color pink. Lilah sits enthralled, asking more questions than a kid should and pointing out the most random things she can think of.

  Once Ivy is finished, she tucks the comforter around Lilah and gives her a kiss on the forehead. “Night, Lilah.”

  “Night, Mommy.”

  “Night, kid.” I say from the doorway.

  “Night, Dad.” She flops over on her side, giving us her back.

  My chest rips wide open as the two women in my lives take everything I have to offer.

  “Come on.” Ivy laces her fingers through mine as we pad across the hall and into our room

  Our room.

  Ever so slowly, my room is being transformed into our room. At first, Ivy wanted to keep it as is. She didn’t want to intrude, she said.

  I wanted her to intrude.

  It was a slow progression. First, she unpacked her bags that she’s been living out of since she got here. Then she would leave her hairbrush on the dresser. Her shoes would be left on the floor on her side of the bed. Piece by piece, her items became placed around the house as she settled in.

  Now, as we walk into the bedroom, she goes to the right side and I go to the left. Don’t ask me when our sides became our sides, but they did. Now they are.

  “You get a little shy around her, don’t you?” She asks, crawling on top of the comforter and looking at me with her big blue eyes. In a slinky top and barely there shorts, she looks like a fucking vanilla dessert I want to demolish.

  I shrug off my shirt. “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do.” She giggles. Reaching forward, she grabs the waistband of my sweats and pulls me forward. My hands plant on the bed. I narrow my eyes at her, then pounce.

  My fingers encircle her wrists as I pin them above her head. “You laughin’ at me?”

  “No, I just think it’s kind of cute.”

  “Cute?” I grumble, my face wrinkling in distaste. The thought of that word and me in the same sentence makes me want to jump off a bridge. “I’m not shy, and I’m certainly not fucking cute.” I shake my head. “Jesus, what are you trying to do to me?”

  Fucking cute.

  She giggles again, her chest heaving right under my eyes. I glance down, seeing her cleavage shake and tremble with each breath and laugh she takes.

  I bend down, sinking my teeth right into the meat of her breast until I taste a hint of blood.

  “Oh.” She arches into me, her breast going even further into my mouth.

  I look up at her and smirk, seeing the instant lust in her gaze. Licking my lips, I release one of her hands and fold my fingers over the top of her tank, ripping it down aggressively and swallowing down a groan at the sight of her breasts.

  I bend down, licking where my teeth marks have imprinted and soothing the tender skin. My tongue trails down, swirling around a nipple and then popping it into my mouth and sucking hard.

  “Aziel.” She gasps, her free hand falling down to my back as her nails sink into my skin, creating deep scores from her need and desire. She’s moves against me, greedy and wanting.

  I pin her down further, pressing my hand against her wrist and my pelvis against her groin. She grunts in displeasure, and it makes me smirk against her breast.

  “Please.” She whimpers.

  “No.” I murmur, moving from her breast to her stomach, nipping at her belly and leaving a trail of teeth marks down towards her thigh. I tease her, running my stomach through the tiny hair she keeps between her legs. Inhaling.

  Her arousal trails through my senses and thickens the room with her scent. I growl when I see the wetness between her legs, dampening her thighs.

  “I need you.” She whines.

  “I need you.” I echo.

  My tongue darts out, sliding between her folds and tasting her sweet scent. I can’t get enough as I dive back for more, sliding my tongue against her velvet skin all the way to her clit that pulses with need.

  I release her wrist, grabbing her around the waist and flipping her around. Her ass sits on top of my face, while hers lingers above my painful erection straining against my sweats.

  Her greedy hands tear at my pants, pulling at the waistband until my erection springs free. Her hot hands grab at it, her mouth diving down and sucking as if she’s desperate for every last drop.

  I release a guttural groan against her folds, the vibration making her twitch against me. She gets wetter, dripping down her legs and against my cheeks.

  Her mouth goes down as far as she can until she chokes and coughs, but that doesn’t stop her. She keeps moving, up and down, up and down.

  I grip her ass in my palms as I press her against my face, sucking her clit and flattening my tongue against her folds. It becomes a race, each of us fighting to be the first to release.

  This isn’t the finish line.

  When I can’t take any more, I reach down and grab onto her hair and pull her off me, flipping over as I press her face into the bed. Her ass remains poised upright, back arched in the most beautiful slope. Her skin is golden, as if permanently tanned even through the winter months in the mountains.

  I lean over to the bedside table, grabbing a condom and slipping it on with quick motions. I grab hold of my cock with the hand that isn’t gripping her hair, lining it up to her sex and pressing in slowly. Her backside twitches, as if the feeling is too much for her.

  It only makes me press more.

  Once I’m to the hilt, I create a slow thrust, loving the feel of my length sliding against her tight walls. In and out I go, the sound of her juices the only sounds in the room besides her small pants.

  She keeps her face in the bed, ever the obedient one when we’re together. Her hands go behind her back, lacing just above her waist.

  That’s when I grow angry.

  Small habits stick to her. Tiny remembrances from her old life that she hangs onto. Things that she can’t let go of.

  I’ll do everything in my power to make her forget them.

  I release her, falling back on the bed and pulling her on top. I have her straddling my waist and watch as she slides down until our hips meet. Her eyes roll in the back of her head, desire clinging to her like a vice.

  “Look at me.” I order.

  Her head snaps up, her hazy eyes connecting with mine.

  “You aren’t a slave anymore, Ivy. Don’t be a fucking submissive.” She looks embarrassed at my words. “Take control, Ivy. Fuck me. Ride me. Show me that you want me. Let me see how deep your need runs. Will you finally take that power you crave in the depth of your soul or will you crumble underneath my fingertips?” I say, pressing my palm to her naked chest, her heart thrumming erratically against my skin.

  Need grabs hold of her. Her spine snaps straight, power flowing through her as she creates a rhythm on top of me.

  “If you aren’t going to grab a hold of that need barreling against your chest, well, you might as well get on your knees
and bow down now. I’ll be inside you either way, Ivy. It’s your choice.” I taunt her, loving as her desire snaps.

  Determination shines in her eyes. With her feet plant on the ground, her knees spread wide as her hands plant on my chest. Her nails dig into me as she rides me, loves me, fucks me.

  “Fuck.” I groan.

  “It feels so good.” She moans, making me bleed on my chest as her fingers claw at my skin.

  “Show me, baby. Make me come.”

  Her face screws up in a mix of pleasure and pain as she tumbles into her orgasm. Her walls spasm, clutching me so tightly I have no option but to follow her into the depths of desire.

  “I love you.” She falls on top of me, her dampened skin sliding against mine. I wrap my arms around her, pressing her into me.

  “I love you, Ivy.” I murmur against her neck.

  This is what I love. For her to be her. To do what she wants, what she needs.

  She’s not what she once was.

  She’s better. She smiles more. She breathes easier. Her eyes are clearer. Her voice is lighter. The way she walks is freer.

  She’s no longer a slave.

  She’s finally free.

  Human Trafficking Hotline

  If you or someone you know is in immediate danger of being trafficked, call 911. To report a suspected trafficking situation, call the National Human Trafficking Hotline at 1-888-373-7888, send the text HELP to 233733, or call the BCA at 1-877-996-6222.

  Acknowledgments

  Acknowledgements are difficult because there are so many people to thank. If I could just say – thank you everyone – I would, but that’s not enough, is it? But if I were to go into detail on every individual who has influenced this book, I would probably be writing a new novel. MC is not something I ever anticipated writing, but here I am. It was a wild ride, and I loved it.

  I want to thank my assistant, Jacqueline Varao, who I haven’t known long, but is an overall badass. You helped me when I was in desperate need and were exactly what I needed.

  I want to thank my Street Team. I wouldn’t be here without each and every one of you. You guys promote me and make me a better author.

  My husband, as always. For sticking by me while I do something I love, even when it means moments are taken away from us. I couldn’t do this if I didn’t have your support and believing I can do this.

  My children. You will forever terrorize me but are still the beats to my heart. You make me a mother and you will forever be my babies.

  To my readers and bloggers, ugh. I could go on forever with you guys. Without your devotion to me and my books, would I even be here? I would like to say yes, because I love to write. But your dedication to me as an author doesn’t go unnoticed. I know each one of you. I read each one of your comments on my posts, and I cry over every review you give. I love you. I really do.

  To Michelle, my proofreader, and Amy, my book designer. You have been with me from the beginning and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  To my Mom, who loved to ride on the back of a motorcycle. As I sit here in her Harley Davidson sweatpants, I can’t help but think she influenced me while writing this book. Rest in peace, Mom, and I can’t wait to hug you again.

  To the previous owners of the house I live in. You put Harley Davidson wallpaper in the garage, and I haven’t taken it down. It’ll forever stay up now. Thank you.

  To all the MC authors, thank you for your influence over the years. Each one of you understand what it takes to write a book like this.

  This book took longer than anticipated and it’s the longest novel I’ve written, but I enjoyed it every step of the way. Thank you all for bearing with me through it. I love you all!

  About the Author

  A.R. Breck lives in Minnesota with her husband, two children and two dogs. She enjoys reading, writing and sharing her stories with the world. When she isn’t working, A.R. Breck loves to watch horror movies, road trip around the country and read forbidden romance novels.

  Follow me

  Instagram: @ar.breck

  Facebook: @ar.breck

  Goodreads: @ar.breck

  Email: [email protected]

 

 

 


‹ Prev