Torch (Dixie Reapers MC 2)

by Harley Wylde

  Getting married in my motorcycle boots and cut probably wasn’t something Isabella would approve of, but I was the damn club president. If I’d rented a tux and monkey shoes, the guys would have laughed me out of the damn clubhouse. When I heard her heels clicking across the floor, I turned and my breath froze in my lungs. She’d put on a cream-colored dress that hugged her curves like a second skin. It was made of some sort of lacy stuff, and fuck if I’d ever seen a more beautiful woman.

  “You ready, baby?” I asked, my voice more gravelly than usual.

  She smiled and nodded.

  We took the SUV over to the clubhouse, and when we got out, she gave me a curious look. The parking lot was packed, and it looked like everyone was here. Well, most everyone. I knew Rocky was still off on his mountain top, beating himself up over something that had been out of his control. Maybe one day soon he’d return to us. I opened the door and ushered her inside, but she froze just over the threshold.

  I looked over the top of her head and smiled when I saw the room had been decorated with what looked like white Christmas lights. Someone had strung them around the room by the ceiling. The tables had been pushed back a little to give us more room, and the assholes had even found an arch somewhere. Preacher was standing under it waiting on us, and the rest of the club was packed into the area near the bar. The few old ladies we had were present as well, even though none of them had bothered to get to know Isabella yet. I’d be speaking to their men about that shit. Either those women fell in line, or they weren’t welcome here.

  “Connor,” she said softly. “What’s going on?”

  “You’ll see, baby. Come on.”

  I took her hand and led her over to where Preacher stood. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring boxes, handing them over to Venom. He came up beside me, and Ridley stood on the other side of Isabella. My poor woman looked so damn confused.

  Ridley was trying not to laugh. “You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?”

  Isabella shook her head.

  “You’re getting married!” Ridley squealed and bounced on her toes.

  “Woman, stop bouncing before you knock my kid out there,” Venom said.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, but stopped bouncing up and down.

  “Married?” Isabella asked, looking up at him. “You want to marry me?”

  “I kind of liked Dr. Myron calling me your husband. Figured we’d make it official. You’re mine in every other way that counts. Might as well make you mine on paper too.”

  A smile spread across her lips, and she threw her arms around me, hugging me tight.

  Preacher cleared his throat. “Are the two of you ready?”

  Isabella nodded, and she placed her hands in mine. I didn’t hear half of what came out of Preacher’s mouth; my gaze was fastened on my beautiful bride. There was such joy in her eyes, and a rosy glow to her cheeks. Venom cleared his throat behind me and jolted me back to the present.

  I took the rings from him, and Isabella and I exchanged vows. When Preacher said I could kiss my bride, I pulled Isabella in close, her body pressed against mine, and I kissed her deeply. Catcalls and whistles rang out around the room as my wife melted against me. I knew this was our night, and everyone was expecting a party, but they would likely be partying without us.

  Venom handed a glass of juice to Isabella and another to Ridley, while a Prospect handed out beers to everyone else. We stayed and mingled for a short while, then I led Isabella back out to the SUV, sneaking out while no one was paying attention. I helped her up onto the passenger seat, then pressed my lips to hers. She moaned and leaned closer to me. If she kept that shit up, I’d be fucking her in the damn parking lot.

  “Home,” I mumbled against her lips. “We’re going home. Then I’m going to fuck you.”

  She shivered in anticipation, and I practically ran around to the other side of the truck, getting in and spitting gravel as I tore out of the lot and toward home. When we pulled in, Isabella nearly dove out of the truck and ran up the steps. I swatted her ass as I unlocked the door. She stepped into the front entry, and the door had barely shut before she was on me. Her fingers were working the buttons on my shirt while her lips fused to mine.

  If I’d known marrying her would make her this hot, I’d have done it a lot sooner. Fuck! It was like she was on fire. She pushed my cut and shirt off my shoulders, then started on my pants. She jerked at my belt until it came undone, then quickly unfastened my jeans. Her tongue thrust into my mouth as she worked my jeans and boxer briefs down my hips until my cock sprang out, hard and ready for her.

  Her hand was so damn small, she couldn’t even wrap it all the way around my dick, but I thrust against her palm, loving the feel of her hands on me. I reached for her dress, slowly pulling it up to her waist. As sexy as the panties were, they had to go. I tore them from her body, and she gasped, looking up at me, dazed.

  “I’ll buy you new ones,” I said, turning to press her back to the door.

  I stroked her pussy with my fingers and groaned at how fucking wet she was. I fucked her with one finger, then two, then three. She was panting and begging for more when I lifted her legs around my waist and thrust my cock deep inside her. Isabella cried out, her head going back and her eyes closing. Pure pleasure was etched on her face as she took all of me. I slammed into her, again and again, each thrust harder than the last. The door rattled in the frame as I pounded her sweet pussy.

  Isabella came, coating me with her cream, as she cried out my name. I stilled inside her, wanting to hold off my orgasm. She felt too fucking incredible for this to end so soon. I pulled out and carried her upstairs, where I stripped the rest of our clothes from our bodies.

  “Hands and knees at the side of the bed, baby,” I commanded.

  She shuddered and did as I said. I ran a hand down her rounded ass before pushing her legs farther apart. It spread her pussy open and gave me a glimpse of that other tight hole I’d like to fuck. I leaned forward and bit her ass cheek, making her yelp and look at me in surprise over her shoulder.

  I coated my fingers again, thrusting them in and out of her, before I lined my cock up with her pussy and entered her hard and fast. I pushed her head down toward the bed, knowing it would let me take her deeper. With the new angle, my cock slid in farther. My strokes were slow and steady, building her up again. I toyed with her ass, her cream letting my finger slide inside. She moaned and thrust back against me.

  “You like that, baby? You like it when I play with your ass?”

  “Yes!”

  My finger went in deeper, and soon I was fucking her ass with two fingers.

  “What do you want, Bella?”

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  I chuckled and thrust my cock and fingers into her again. “I thought I was.”

  “I want more,” she begged.

  “More what? You want another finger in your ass? Stretching you wide?”

  She whimpered. I continued to work her and did add a third finger. Her body was trembling, and I could tell she was close to coming. Her pussy was so fucking hot, and she was so damn wet. I watched as my cock slid out, then back in, shiny from her cream.

  “Harder. Please, Connor. I need it.”

  I thrust harder, my fingers and cock keeping time. I worked her good, making her entire body flush. My balls drew up, and I knew I was seconds away from coming. I moved my hand from her hip around her belly, and down between her legs. I groaned when I felt my cock sliding in and out of her, then started circling her clit. It didn’t take much before she was screaming my name, thrusting back, fucking herself on my cock.

  When she quieted, and I knew she was spent, I eased my fingers out of her ass and gripped her hips with both hands, taking her hard, fast, and deep. My cum shot out of my cock and filled her up, jet after jet bathing her insides as I fucked it into her. I didn’t stop thrusting, even after the last drop of cum was wrung from me. Somehow, I was still fucking hard.

  “S
till feel good, baby?” I asked, fucking with her slow strokes.

  “So good,” she mumbled.

  I pulled out and flipped her over. Grabbing her feet, I placed them on the mattress so that her legs were bent and spread wide. I dragged her ass to the edge of the mattress and then thrust into her again. Her gaze was fastened on mine as I took her again. But this time wasn’t as fierce. I took my time, wringing every drop of pleasure from her I could, and only when I knew she couldn’t handle any more did I finally let myself come again.

  “Love you,” she murmured, half asleep.

  I picked her up and tucked her under the covers, then cleaned up in the bathroom before sliding in next to her. Pulling her against my chest, I kissed the top of her head. “Love you too, Bella.”

  She smiled and snuggled closer. I watched her, taking in her beauty, and marveling at the fact that I’d actually gotten fucking married. And I couldn’t have been happier. With Isabella in my arms, and a baby on the way, my life was pretty fucking perfect. She might have made me wait three damn years, but the past month with her had been worth every second, and we had the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.

  I traced the shell of her ear with my nose, then whispered, “Mine.”

  A smile curved her lips, and I knew that was a sight I’d never get tired of. I vowed right then, whatever it took, I’d make sure I saw that smile every day for the rest of our lives. She was my greatest gift, the most precious thing in the world to me, and I’d make sure she knew it. The fact she’d doubted me earlier, had thought I didn’t want her or the baby, made my stomach sour. I knew I’d make her cry again, at some point. But I also promised that she’d never cry herself to sleep again.

  She was mine. My everything. My fucking heart and soul.

  And I was never letting her go.

  Harley Wylde

  Short. Erotic. Sweet.

  Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

  When Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more.

  You can find Harley online at http://harleywylde.com. Harley Wylde is the “wilder” side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. You can follow her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/jessicacoultersmithauthor/ and Twitter https://twitter.com/kitcatjms.

  Visit Jessica’s website: http://jessicacoultersmith.com. Want to be notified of new releases or special discounts? Sign up for her newsletter! Find more books by Harley Wylde at http://changelingpress.com/author.php?uid=196.