Striker: No Prisoners MC Book 1

by Lilly Atlas

  “Your funeral man, just don’t tell her I gave it to you. So what’s Shiv’s take on all this?”

  Striker blew out a stream of smoke and watched it swirl into the dark night. “He’s in agreement with us. Lila’s safe and unharmed, but that doesn’t address any of the shit that happened before Snake snatched her. We can’t let his attack on Kenny and you slide,” he said with a nod to Hook. “Makes us look like pussies. But he also agrees we have plenty of time to plan something smart while Snake’s preoccupied with his club’s shit.”

  An evil smile grew across Jester’s face. “Damn, it will feel good to take that fucker down a few pegs.”

  “You ain’t kidding. I could easily tear him apart, but I’d like to see his club crumble around him first.” Striker watched Hook drop his cigarette down and crush it under the heel of his heavy boot. Orange sparks drifted up from the ground and glowed bright against the blackness of the night.

  All of a sudden the need to be with his woman slammed into him with a force that almost stole his breath. “Thanks for staying with Lila. I’m gonna head back in.”

  Hook and Jester nodded. “No problem, VP,” Hook said. “We’ll take off, let you and the Doc have some time. She’s a good one, brother.”

  His words were light, but there was a warning to his tone. He liked Lila, his wife liked Lila, and Hook would have something to say if Striker hurt her. Hook gave him a manly hug, and slapped him on the back before he climbed on his bike.

  Jester did the same. “None of this is on you, Striker.”

  Striker took one last drag before he tossed his cigarette to the ground, and made his way inside to be with his woman. He found her curled on her side, staring out the window at the quiet and starry night.

  He spared a moment to study her unseen. She still wore his shirt, which engulfed her upper body and ended just below the seductive curve of her hip. Her legs were bare, the smooth, skin nearly glowed in the dark of the room, like a beacon calling to him. Reflected in the window, her face was tight with worry, and guilt sliced at him for causing her to doubt his feelings.

  It was only a few seconds before she realized she was no longer alone and rolled over. An entire army of men couldn’t have kept him away from her in that moment, and she must have felt the same because she sat up and reached for him with welcoming arms.

  Their mouths met in a fury of passion, and the simmering flame that always burned for her ignited into a wildfire. He fused his mouth to hers, so hard that for a second he worried he might bruise her tender lips. But she moaned and clung to him with a desperation that echoed his.

  Striker shifted, and pushed her back down to the bed. He settled his body over her. Lila’s soft form cradled his much firmer one in all the right places. Her breasts cushioned the hard planes of his chest, her thighs clasped his sides, holding him tight to her, and her heated core burned into the rippled muscles of his stomach. It was the perfect metaphor for their relationship, her soft, comforting, him hard and willing to kill to protect her.

  He tore his mouth from hers, and sucked in air before grazing her jaw with his teeth. When he reached the spot just below her ear she shivered, and Striker smiled at the familiar response. He continued down her neck, trailing kisses until he met her collarbone. Gently, he laid his head on her chest and listened to the steady rhythm of her heart.

  Lila had been panting and squirming beneath him, one hand fisted in his short hair, while the other stroked his back, but she froze when he rested against her. “Striker? What is it? Why are you stopping?” Her voice was breathless and a slight tremor alerted him to her unease.

  “There are two main reasons we don’t tell the ol’ ladies any club business.”

  She remained tense beneath him, and he lifted his head to press a soft kiss to her lips. Some of the starch left her, and Striker shifted his weight slightly to the side, so he was still flush against her body, but wouldn’t crush her with his weight.

  “What are they?” Her calm tone encouraged him to continue.

  “First, is so the cops leave them alone. They don’t know anything, so there isn’t any point in dragging them in for an interrogation, and trying to turn them against the club. They can’t be arrested for withholding information, or forced to turn evidence against the club, because they just don’t have it and never will.”

  Lila nodded. The light from the moon shone through the window, illuminating her face and making her look beautiful, despite the serious expression she wore.

  “The second reason, is so that our enemies have one less reason to snatch them. Again, no point in taking someone and trying to torture info out of them if you know they don’t know anything.”

  She winced at his last statement, and he experienced a moment of guilt for being so blunt, but he needed her to fully understand where he was coming from.

  “With you, we ignored our usual practice in favor of letting you help us out. You know things about the club that I’d never normally tell you because you’ve been helping us with medical needs. You’re vulnerable to the police, and rival clubs. This involvement with me could literally destroy your life, Lila. You could end up in prison, dead, or even worse.”

  Understanding flashed in her eyes, and he blew out a breath of relief, confident that she was catching on to what he was saying.

  “Striker,” she began.

  He silenced her with a kiss. “Hold on, let me finish. I found out what it felt like to have someone get to you. When Snake took you, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do about it…” His eyes closed and he shook his head, fighting the onslaught of emotion the memory resurrected. “I felt a rage I can’t even describe. It was like a beast inside me clawing to get out. I always stay in control of my emotional shit, and yesterday I wasn’t. You do that to me.”

  Striker wasn’t entirely sure what he was trying to convey to her, he was so out of his element. This was why he normally limited his involvement with women to sex only. That wasn’t an option here. It was like Lila had cast some kind of spell over him.

  “I get it, Striker.” Lila stroked through his hair, the gesture comforted and soothed his battered soul. “I felt the same way when they hurt you and pointed a gun at your head. The same things you worry about happening to me could happen to you. Hell, they are more likely to happen to you.”

  She was right, and the realization surprised him. He hadn’t given any thought to what it would be like from her perspective, or any of the ol’ ladies for that matter. They frequently dealt with the threat of their men being arrested, incarcerated, and issues with rival clubs. They handled it much better than he had.

  “It’s something we’ll both have to find a way to deal with if we want this to work, and I don’t know about you, but I feel this is worth the risk.”

  He closed his eyes, enjoying the play of her fingers over his scalp.

  “I love you, Lila. But part of me thinks if I love you, I shouldn’t drag you into this shit.” Jesus, he couldn’t believe he was having his conversation. He was turning into a pussy. If his brothers’ found out, they would torment him mercilessly for the next fifty years.

  “I recognize the risks out there for you, the very realistic and scary risks, and while I may hate that there are so many threats to you, if I want to be with you, I have to accept it. You have to do the same. If something were to happen to you, it would kill me,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But it would pretty much kill me if you walk away now. So I’d rather reach out and grab what we could have, for as long as possible.”

  Tears started to track down her face. The sight of those tears twisted his gut. He did not want her to cry for him. “Baby, please don’t cry,” he whispered as he reigned soft kisses on her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, and finally her lips. “I can’t stand it.”

  “We can take extra precautions, Striker. I’ll always listen to you, do whatever it takes to stay safe, and make you feel confident about my safety.”

  Lila was the perfect o
l’ lady for him, always so calm, and logical. She reasoned through problems to find workable solutions instead of freaking out and causing drama. He dealt with some deep shit as the VP of an outlaw motorcycle club, and knowing he could share his burdens with her was powerful. He could count on her to keep her cool no matter what he had to unload. She was the only woman who could ease the demons in his soul, and he’d be the worst kind of fool to let that slip away.

  Done talking, he took her mouth again. This time there was nothing easy about the kiss. This time he poured all the need and desire he had for her into the act. As he continued the assault on her mouth, his hands worked the shirt up her body until her breasts were bare. Under him, Lila moaned and widened her legs, rocking her pelvis against him. God, he loved when she did that, as though her body was seeking him out of its own volition.

  “Put your hands above your head. I want you to keep them there. Move them and I won’t be happy.”

  Lila raised an eyebrow at him, letting him know he pushed her boundaries. But after a split second of hesitation, she slid her arms above her head and gripped the edge of the pillow. Her compliance touched something deep in him.

  “Good girl. I want to spend some time on this gorgeous body, and your hands just make me lose my focus. Close your eyes and don’t move your hands. I promise you’ll be rewarded for your obedience.”

  Lila watched him for another second before letting her eyes flutter closed. Fuck yeah. Her trust humbled him. She lay defenseless before him, eyes closed and breasts thrust toward him like a submissive sacrifice and his dick, which was as hard as a steel pipe, twitched painfully in his pants.

  “This is gonna be fun.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  With her vision blocked and arms above her head, Lila felt exposed and vulnerable. It was a foreign sensation. She wasn’t sure she had ever trusted a lover enough to be at their mercy. A quiver of nerves warred with the excitement in her belly.

  “Last rule,” he whispered in her ear. She hadn’t realized he moved and jumped slightly as his breath swirled over her ear. “No talking. You can moan and you can scream, but no talking until you are ready to beg me to fuck you.”

  Until she was ready? Hell she felt ready to beg him right now.

  “You can’t ask me to go faster, can’t ask me to go harder, and can’t ask me to move left or right. You take what I give you until there is no possible way you can stand not having me inside you. Understand?”

  With a nod, she moaned. His words made her sex flood with moisture. He’d barely touched her, yet she was so turned on she felt ready to combust.

  “Good girl,” he said again.

  One large hand splayed over her abdomen, sending warmth through her body. He took his time and slid one palm up her torso, pausing to rest between her breasts. Her nipples ached for his touch. Having his hand so close to them without knowing if or when he’d touch them, was pure torture.

  “You’re so beautiful, Lila,” he whispered.

  Lila gasped. His lips hovered above one breast. When he spoke, his heated breath puffed on her nipple. She arched up, her body taking over, making her breasts seek his mouth. Her nipples were hard points of unfulfilled desire. Afraid he’d stop completely, she had to bite her lip to keep from pleading with him to suck her.

  “I have this drive, this need to possess you in every way.” As Striker spoke, he ran his tongue around one areola, so close to what she needed, but not quite there, just more torture designed to drive her out of her mind. “You’re mine, and the fact that another man threatened that, touched you, sets off something dangerous inside of me.” The other breast was treated to the same maddening attention.

  She let out a low sound, part desire, part frustration, and part need. This was so much more than making love. The things he was saying? He was claiming her, mating with her, letting her know she belonged to him now.

  Without warning his mouth clamped down on a nipple and he sucked, hard. After being so turned on, the sensation was almost beyond what she could tolerate. Pleasure so intense it bordered on pain exploded from her breast, and she was helpless to stop the scream that erupted from deep within. His mouth moved to the other side, lips, teeth and tongue worshiping her as she writhed beneath him.

  Lila grew wetter by the second. Were she still in control over her thoughts, she may have been embarrassed by the amount of fluid easing between her legs. But, as it was, she focused completely on the delicious sensations that rocketed through her body. Her entire being centered on the twin peaks, and Striker’s attention to them.

  After what could have been five minutes or an hour, Striker abandoned her breasts, and trailed his mouth back down her body, nipping and sucking along the way. Never had a man spent so much time on her pleasure without thought for himself. When he reached his destination, he lifted each of her thighs, placing them over his shoulders with his head positioned between.

  For a few seconds Lila felt nothing, heard nothing, and grew a little nervous. She was wetter than she had ever been in her life, saturated. Maybe it was too much. Maybe he found it unappealing. Then she heard him inhale slowly as though she was a fine wine he wanted to savor.

  “Fuck, baby, you smell amazing. You are drenched. Do you have any fucking idea how it makes me feel when I see your body telling me how much you want me? I’m trying to get myself together so I can take my time with you, but you’re making it very hard.”

  She knew how hard it was, she’d felt the evidence against her leg when he’d tormented her breasts. Her mouth opened to make the sassy retort, but at the last second she caught herself and shut it, remaining silent.

  “You’re being very obedient. I like it.”

  In the next instant Striker took a long sweeping lick through the folds of her pussy, up to her clit, where he sucked it lightly into his mouth.

  That was all it took. Her orgasm slammed into her without warning, like a runaway freight train. Somehow she managed not to scream his name, but she did make a sound that was a cross between a wail and a moan. Unable to keep her arms up any longer, her hands fisted into his hair to pull him closer, or push him away, she wasn’t sure.

  Striker acted as though he didn’t realize she just had an explosive release. Shoving his tongue into her channel he fucked her with his mouth. This time, Lila did scream, she was so sensitive from the previous orgasm that the jabs of his tongue inside her were barely tolerable.

  Striker was relentless, giving her no time to recover before he drove her right back up again.

  Lila’s head thrashed back and forth on the pillow, and she bucked and jerked beneath him, completely out of control. She was seconds from coming again, and wanted him inside her this time. With a cry of need, she yanked Striker’s head up by his hair, and met his eyes. He looked wild, and a little out of control as he raised one eyebrow and speared her with a questioning look.

  “Fuck me, Striker,” she begged. “Please. I need you to fuck me. Now.”

  He rose. With her legs still over his shoulders, his muscles bunched and flexed, making him look every bit the alpha male he was. He held himself over her, a hand on each side of her head as his shoulders pushed her knees toward her chest. “Position me.” His voice was rough and dark.

  Immediately, her hand sought him out. Her entire body trembled in anticipation as she wrapped her fingers around his impressive girth. Lila decided Striker needed a bit of his own torture. She squeezed and stroked him, enjoying the feel of the soft skin over his hard length.

  “Lila,” he rumbled out the warning.

  With a sassy smile, Lila guided him to her opening. He wasted no time. Almost before she could register him moving, he impaled her.

  “Striker.” She whimpered.

  “I know, babe, I know.” He stilled for a moment, his forehead rested on hers. “You ready, baby?”

  “God, yes.”

  He needed no further prompting. Striker pulled back until he was almost completely out, and then roughly pushed back in.
A harsh cry ripped from her mouth. The sound seemed to spurn him on and he plunged in and out of her like a madman.

  “There’s no going back, Lila. This is it. You’ll never have another man.”

  “I don’t want to go back, Striker. There’s no man I could ever want as much as I want you.”

  “I gave you a chance to walk away, to save yourself, and you didn’t take it. You’re mine now, Lila. This makes you fucking mine,” he ground out, never letting up his furious pace. “Say it.”

  “I’m yours.”

  “Whose? Who do you belong to Lila?”

  “You, Striker! I’m yours, Striker. Oh God,” she cried when his hand slid between their bodies and found her clit.

  “Damn fucking straight,” he said before he captured her mouth in his for a rough kiss that matched the pace of their lovemaking.

  “Harder,” she managed to say between heaving breaths. She needed to feel his full strength pumping in and out of her.

  “Yes ma’am,” he quipped, as he forced her knees even farther toward her body, and powered into her, deeper than she thought possible. “Christ, I love you, Lila.”

  The moment she heard the words ripped from his throat, pleasure crashed in a wave that overwhelmed all her senses. Lila yelled his name over and over again as she came. She curled her fingers into his ass, holding him to her as though she could meld their bodies. Her pussy clamped down on him, and she spasmed and shook for endless minutes. Above her, Striker swore, stiffened, and jerked as orgasm claimed him as well.

  Lila sagged into the mattress, spent and sated. Striker collapsed next to her and rolled to his side, tucking her tight against his sweat-dampened skin. They lay silent, each breathing hard for many minutes while their bodies cooled and calmed.

  Lila had nearly drifted off to sleep when she felt Striker’s hands stroking over her. They skimmed up her ass and snuck around to the front. Wetness, evidence of their lovemaking, coated her thighs and he let out a low groan when his hands encountered it. With slow strokes, he rubbed a finger over the tender flesh between her legs, and her eyes popped open. “Striker, you’re still hard.”