Ironside: A Bad Boy Biker Romance (Heartbreakers MC Book 3)

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Ironside: A Bad Boy Biker Romance (Heartbreakers MC Book 3) Page 8

by Alexis Abbott


  So, slowly, I begin to inch my way out of bed, careful not to disturb the flat mattress with my pointy elbows or knees. The last thing I want right now is to wake up my captor-slash-savior. As much as I crave being in his presence and feeling safe as a result, I know I’m wide awake now. I need to get moving. There’s an electrical impulse guiding me as I scoot out of bed. My bare feet touch the cool floor and my toes curl instantly, but I gradually adjust to the cold and push myself up into a standing position. I look back at Ironside, worried that the shift of my weight in the bed might wake him. But to my relief, he seems just as deep asleep as he was a moment ago, and I heave a sigh, clutching a hand to my chest. I begin to pad across the wooden floor, creeping along on tiptoe so as not to wake him. I manage to reach the door and take my time turning the doorknob to reduce the squeaky noise it makes. I push the door open just wide enough to slip through but not enough to let a big pillar of light shine in. Once I am safely out in the hallway, I press alongside the wall as I move toward the stairs. I can hear voices up there and I find myself suddenly desperately curious as to what they’re discussing. I move under stealth, my footsteps barely more than a soft tap on the floor. As I climb the stairs, I pass what looks like an antique clock hanging on the wall, still in working condition. It informs me of how late it actually is, definitely late enough for the bar upstairs to be closed for the night. And yet, there are still voices there, which tells me this is no regular bar. This is more like a… a home. Or a commune. Maybe a clubhouse of some kind.

  I creep up the stairs one at a time, the voices getting louder and less muffled with every step. By the time I reach the top, I can make out two distinct voices. Both male. There’s a strange sliding or shuffling sound, too, which I quickly identify as the sound of a deck of cards moving around. They must be playing a game. I slink along the wall and peek around the corner into the bar area. Sure enough, there are two men sitting at a table lit by only a flickering candle, playing cards laid out on the table in front of them as well as fanned out in their hands. They are speaking in low voices, every now and then smirking or chuckling about something. I wonder why they’re doing this in the middle of the night, but then it dawns on me that the card game is probably just a means of wasting time while completing the real work of keeping guard. They’re on the graveyard shift, playing a game to keep their bodies awake and their minds sharp.

  “You going to keep tabs on this one?” asks one of the men in a low growl.

  “Come on, man. It’s the witchin’ hour. No rules,” the other jokes.

  “I don’t care what the clock says, if you lose, you lose,” insists the first with a laugh.

  I try to sneak a little closer, squinting as I approach them. I stick to the shadows, of course, not wanting to be spotted for fear that they might be angry to find me here snooping around. But of course, as my luck would have it, I stumble over a loose floorboard and fall against the wall with a thump. My blood runs cold as my whole body freezes up. With eyes wide, I watch the two burly men set down their cards and glance around, wearing grim expressions.

  Oh god. I’m in trouble.

  But to my surprise, when their eyes finally fall upon me lurking in the shadows, they seem to immediately soften. One of the men, the younger-looking one, even gives me a soft nod and a smile. As though he’s silently relieving me of my worry. They don’t care that I’m here. I’m no trouble to them at all. In fact, they look kind of amused to see me here. Like they think it’s funny that I’m creeping around their clubhouse like a little shadow. Neither of them makes any move to come stop me or tell me off for wandering. It dawns on me with a warm sunniness that I am not being held prisoner here. These are not my guards meant to keep me in-- if anything, they are keeping the cruel world out. I feel oddly comforted, and as I slink back down the stairs to bed there’s a faint smile on my face. The first real smile I have felt pull at my lips in quite some time.

  I tiptoe back to the door of the room where I left Ironside sleeping, feeling a lot lighter and less frightened than before. But as I walk up to the door, I feel my heart skip a beat to see that the door is wide open, even though I left it shut. My heart beats faster and my palms get sweaty as I slowly, carefully approach the doorway. As I get closer, I can see the light falling across a serious human face, staring at me with anger.

  “Oh no,” I murmur breathlessly as Ironside reaches for me.

  He grabs me by the shoulders and whirls me around, closing the door behind us and flicking on the light. He pins me against the wall, those dark eyes peering intently into mine. I can feel his breath hot on my skin, the heat radiating off of his body. His fingertips dig into my shoulders as he looks into my eyes. He looks both angry and concerned with me.

  Even through the fog of anger he’s beaming into me, I can’t help but feel a little hot and dizzy as he looks at me. His body is so close to mine. I can smell his masculine scent. I can feel the raw power emanating from his stocky frame. He could so easily hurt me. Hell, he could snap me right in half if he so desired. And as I stand here totally at the mercy of his power, I feel a flicker of something filthy, something I have never really given name or breath to, deep inside of me. Arousal. Desire. His manhandling only turns me on in a way I could never explain. I feel guilty and embarrassed and breathless all at the same time as I wait for my punishment.

  “Where did you go?” he hisses into my face.

  “No-nowhere,” I stammer, barely above a whisper. “I woke up and I went upstairs.”

  “Did anyone see you?” he asks.

  I hang my head with guilt. “Yes. Two men. An older one and a young one. They’re just playing cards, though. I promise I didn’t interrupt their game or anything. I saw them and then I came right back down,” I explain hastily.

  “Did you say anything to them?” he growls.

  I shake my head. “No. No, of course not.”

  “Did you go outside?” he throws at me.

  “No! I promise, I didn’t do anything bad,” I plead with him.

  He looms over me imposingly, those black eyes sizing me up, testing my testimony for lies. After a few tense moments, he seems to relax a little. Without warning, he reaches for me, scooping me up into his arms. I let out a little yelp of surprise as he flicks off the light and effortlessly carries me back to bed. He lays me back down and pulls me tight against his chest. But from the moment my head touches the pillow, the only thing I can think about is how hard and hot his body feels against mine. I can feel every glorious inch of him, and it’s irresistible.

  I can’t help but roll my hips, subtly grooving my body back against him. I need to be close to him-- as close as two people can be. I don’t understand the urge taking over me right now, but I do know I am helpless to fight it. I need him close. I need him touching me. It’s like an itch I have never tried to scratch before, a sickness I never allowed myself to cure or even treat. But by now, so much time has passed. So much in my life has changed. All I want now is some kind of release. I need it badly, and even though I don’t understand how any of this works, I am desperate for Ironside to touch me the way I long to be touched.

  “You’re playing with fire here, little girl,” he hisses against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Don’t light the fire if you don’t want to get burned.”

  “What if… what if I want to get burned?” I murmur back, heart pounding.

  “You’re barely more than a child. You’re vulnerable. You’re innocent. You don’t know what you’re angling for,” he growls.

  It’s true. I don’t know what I’m asking for, but I know he can give it to me. So I continue angling for it, rutting back into him, teasing him with my round, taut, little ass. Before long, he’s groaning and arching around me, sliding down under the sheets. I suck in a deep inhale as I feel his fingers hook under my panties and tug them down my legs. I lift the sheets to look down at him in wonder. He breathes me in deeply, savoring my lustful scent. My heart races like mad and I’m filled with terr
or, but I can’t back out now.

  “Do you even understand what you’re asking of me?” Ironside purrs as he slides down between my legs. I blink back tears, even as my body warms to him.

  “Truthfully, no,” I admit breathily. “I don’t understand any of this. But I just need something… a little something to help me fall back asleep.”

  He wrenches my thighs apart and dips down to suck me in, relishing the way I smell, the softness of my pink petals unfolding under his ministrations. He has me right where he wants me, but he’s teasing, pushing me close to the edge before he even touches that secret, forbidden place between my lips. I’m already blushing and heart a-fluttering when he smooths his hands up along the silky skin of my inner thighs. His hot breath is so tantalizing, I can hardly wait.

  He pauses, though, looking up at me with those dark, mysterious eyes.

  Justine

  He peers up at me with a question reflecting back to me in those dark eyes. I’m holding my breath, not even daring to move for fear that I might shatter the delicious illusion in front of me. His hands are on my thighs, gently squeezing them, digging in his fingertips in a way that I know will leave tiny purple bruises. Instead of scaring me, this knowledge only serves to turn me on even more. I am afraid, but that fear is balanced out by the overwhelming rush of desire flooding through my body. I want him. I want everything he has to offer me, even if I’m not totally sure yet what that is.

  “Tell me, Justine. Do you know what you want tonight?” Ironside growls in a low voice.

  I can tell it’s taking every ounce of his self-control to hold back right now. If it was up to him, he would have devoured me by now until there was nothing left of me but a shivering husk. He licks his lips and my body tingles with need. I can’t help imagining what that tongue would feel like against my sensitive little bud of nerves at the top of my flower. I have only occasionally dared to touch myself there in the past, and even then it was only for a moment. I have spent my whole life terrified of what would happen if I ever give in to the urges rollicking through my body. It’s like a drug, this adrenaline-soaked fire of lust that burns low in my belly. I look at him and a desire makes itself known. It strikes and flares so that I can’t ignore it. I can’t put it aside. He’s going to touch me… there. And I am going to let him.

  Oh god. What would my father say?

  But Daddy isn’t here right now. In fact, he might be the reason I ended up here in the first place. This is all his fault, but I am going to reap as many rewards out of this as I can, starting with my captor’s tongue. I want him to taste my desire, to memorize my special flavor and keep it filed away in his memory forever. I want to make an impression on him, just like he’s already left an indelible mark on me.

  “I just want… I want you,” I murmur, too embarrassed to say what I mean.

  Though to be honest, I don’t even know what I mean. But he pushes me.

  “You have no idea, do you?” he rasps.

  I bite my lip. “I’m trying,” I admit in a mumble.

  “I suppose I’ll just have to teach you,” Ironside says.

  “Yes,” I blurt out. “Please.”

  He parts my thighs and dips down, breathing me in as my body arches and curls to him. His hands gently grope my thighs, moving down closer to my pussy and then moving away again, teasing and tantalizing me until I’m whimpering for more. I watch with wide eyes as he puts a pointer finger in his mouth and pulls it out with a wet pop. Then he lightly runs his fingertip along the center of my soft, fragrant flower, making me shudder with pleasure.

  “Oh wow,” I gasp.

  He chuckles darkly. “I’ve barely gotten started.”

  He leans in and spreads me open, flicking his tongue around my clit. Sharp flames of desire and ticklish pleasure shoot up through my body and I tip my hips up to meet him. His mouth opens and he sucks at my clit, sliding the hardened tip of his tongue around my clit and up and down my slick folds. I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter, goosebumps popping up on my skin as the sensation takes me for a ride. I rock back and forth, letting his warm, wet mouth open me up. My body tenses and relaxes in equal measure, all arching to be closer to him, to that velvet tongue licking me up into whipped peaks. I groan and mumble nonsensically, tears of pleasure burning in my eyes. My hands reach out on either side of me to grab fistfuls of the sheets, holding on for dear life while Ironside begins to move faster and harder, aggressively devouring my sweet cunny. He sucks me up like I’m the antidote to some deathly poison, like I’m the most delicious flavor he’s ever tasted. And who knows-- maybe I am. All I know for sure is that I’ve never felt pleasure like this before. I didn’t even know this kind of sensation was possible. There have been hot flashes of lust that seize me in the moment, but all of those were quick, fleeting moments that disappeared just as quickly as they emerged. This is something entirely different. This is musical. This is magical. This is…

  Almost over.

  “Oh my… my goodness,” I whimper, trembling as he licks my pussy harder and faster, lifting me up to brand new heights of pleasure. His tongue expertly toys with my clit until I’m on the edge, gripping the sheets tightly with my legs hooked over Ironside’s shoulders.

  I arch my back, pushing my pelvis up against his face. I rut against his sensuous lips and his perfect tongue, my whole body buzzing with it as I bounce higher and higher. Ironside shows no signs of giving up anytime soon. If anything, he pushes me harder the closer I get to the precipice. He isn’t afraid to give me the full extent of his expertise. His tongue toys with my clit. His lips suckle and kiss my trembling folds.

  “It feels so good,” I whisper, feeling sweat bead around my temples.

  “Mmm,” he groans against my clit, giving me delicious little vibrations that drive me absolutely wild. “Give it up for me, baby. Let me taste that sweet honey,” he purrs.

  “I’m so close. Oh my gosh,” I sigh.

  With one more flick of his tongue, my whole pussy explodes. I cry out and shiver intensely, the bed shaking as I ride the wave of incredible pleasure straight to the top. All the way through, Ironside’s arms hold me down, his lips kissing my thighs and my pulsating cunny. He holds me and caresses me until I come tumbling down from that highest high. I’m exhausted, my whole body spent. Ironside wipes his mouth and gives me a satisfied smirk as he moves up to lie down next to me. I snuggle up close to his chest and he rests his chin on the top of my head.

  “Oh. I can’t believe I just did that,” I gasp as he pulls me close.

  “You’re alright. I got you,” he murmurs into my ear.

  “I’m not a virgin anymore,” I whisper.

  “Welcome to the real world, little girl. How do you feel?” he hisses.

  “Overwhelmed,” I confess. “And tired. So tired.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing, baby,” he assures me with a kiss to the back of my head. “You’re safe here with me. I will never hurt you, and I will never let anyone else hurt you either.”

  “I believe you,” I mumble.

  “I know you do,” he purrs back.

  As pleasure gives way to fatigue, I drift away and away, a smile of contentment on my lips. It’s true. I believe every word he says. In fact, he may just be the only person in the whole world I really feel like I can trust. I can believe what he tells me. He’s the hero who took me from the dark place and brought me into the light. He’s the one who holds the key to my safety and to my pleasure. He is the way. He is everything to me. There’s no safer place to fall asleep than here, in his arms.

  I wake up with the same smile still lingering on my lips the following morning. As I swim through the sleepy fog to reality, my eyes flutter open and I stretch out like a cat in the bed. A yawn escapes my lips and I roll over in bed, already happy as I reach out for Ironside, longing to feel the reassurance of his hard body next to mine. But to my disappointment, he’s already gotten up. I’m alone in the bed, sprawled out almost diagonally. I blush as I pul
l myself up into a sitting position and look around blearily. I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, but I got enough. And after that incredible, mind-blowing trick Ironside showed me, I went out like a light, sleeping heavy and hard. I feel more refreshed right now than I have ever before in my life, and I know it has nothing to do with this mattress. It’s all him. All his magical handiwork and manhandling, the way he played my body like an instrument, stroking the most harmonious pleasures from my tired frame. I can still hardly believe it actually happened. There’s a little part of me that feels worried, but mostly I just feel renewed. Like I’ve been sleeping for a thousand years. I have to blink my eyes over and over to make them focus in the dimness as I search for signs of where my handsome savior might have slipped away to.

  When I look over to the door, I have to do a double take. Right in front of me is my mystery stranger, impressively doing curl ups on a metal bar artfully wedged into the doorway. His shirt is off, putting his incredible musculature on full display. I lick my lips as I watch his abs contract, his pecs twitching as he pulls himself up and curls back down. I find myself totally mesmerized by the power and control with which he holds his body. Every cell of his massive form works together in perfect rhythm to give him an edge over any competition. There is not a single shred of doubt in my mind that this man could jump higher, run faster and farther, and work harder than any other man I have ever met. Truthfully, I hardly knew a lot of men growing up. My father makes sure to keep me isolated. But I’m not a total shut-in. I’ve been around… boys before.

  But Ironside is no boy. No, he’s all man. And that makes me feel like maybe I’m more than just a girl. Although, as soon as he turns those dark eyes on me, I feel small and fragile by comparison. He is the predator and I am his dainty prey. But as he jumps down from the pull-up bar and saunters over to sit down on the edge of the bed, glistening with sweat and glowing with heat, I remember that he is also my protector. The shepherd of my lonely flock.

 

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