Their Saint: Hell’s Rebel’s MC Part II

by Akeroyd, Serena

  For a few seconds, I let him carry on with the male equivalent of giggling, then I slapped his chest and pouted. “I’m being serious.”

  “I know, and that’s what’s even more hilarious.” He curled his lips inward as he stared up at me, and shaking his head, mumbled, “I swear to fuck, Ama, you come out with stuff at the damnedest moments.”

  I hitched a shoulder, and was satisfied this time when his gaze dropped to my tits as they jiggled with the gesture. “No point in lying.”

  “This is true.” He sighed, reaching up and gently cupping one of my breasts. His fingers tweaked my nipple, coaxing it to bud, making me sigh. When he pinched, I jerked in response and glowered at him.

  “No fair!” I reached down, and through his tee, pinched his.

  He grinned, sat up, curved his arms around me again, and then hauled me down until we were chest to chest. Rolling us both over until I was on my back, I sighed as his weight centered between my thighs, which I parted the second he settled over me.

  After his tongue swiped over my bottom lip, I whispered, “I’m ready, Liam.”

  “Fuck, you saying my name messes with my head.” He groaned, then reared backward and began shucking off his tee. I didn’t like it when he moved away, but I appreciated the view as he shoved his jeans down, baring everything.

  I mean, I’d seen way too much of the male body thanks to where I’d been raised. But seeing my man? Fuck, it beat everything else.

  Licking my lips as I stared at his thick, long cock, I empathized with all romance novel virgins—the ‘how will it fit?’ question surged to the forefront of my thoughts, but before I could worry about it, his fingers were at my fly. Within seconds, he was hauling my shorts down my legs, panties too, and I was just as naked as he was.

  It was the first time I’d been naked with anyone, and yeah, I kind of felt shy, but also just ready. I was so beyond prepped for this moment.

  I’d been waiting a long time, and it seemed incredible that my desires were well within reach.

  His hands smoothed over my legs, making me very grateful I’d epilated the day before, and when he trailed them down the insides of my calves, I licked my lips as I parted them, making space for him again. Except, he surprised me, he pushed them wider, nudging them apart even as he dropped to his knees at the side of the bed.

  Though I stared at him in surprise, I didn’t squeak as he dragged me to the edge and ordered, “Put your feet on my shoulders.” Obeying, I slipped them there and dropped my legs open.

  I kind of wanted to cringe, but mostly, I was just presented with this tempting image of the man I wanted who looked like he was dying to taste me.

  Biting my lip, I rose up onto my elbows so I could watch. Heck, I needed to watch.

  He smirked at me as he dropped his mouth to my pussy, and somehow, that smirk did more for me than that first lick. I narrowed my eyes at his arrogance, then I understood.

  “Fuck,” I whimpered, my head tilting back on my shoulders as I groaned out my pleasure. He licked and sucked, stroked his tongue along the central channel of my pussy, then slipped inside me. It was sweet torture, a delicious torment as he ate me out.

  For the first time in my life, I understood what that meant. He made me feel agony and wonder. My legs clamped around his head and my belly felt like it was caving in as he explored my pussy, making me need him more with every flutter of his tongue around a part I hadn’t even known was an erogenous zone—I’d just thought the clit was the MVP—how he proved me wrong.

  When I came, it hit me out of the blue, just like my first one with him. The scream that escaped me was unplanned, and it was followed by a guttural groan as he sucked on my clit in a move that had me shuddering and falling back into the bed with a kerplunk.

  I felt both tense and relaxed, and I had no idea how to deal with the discordant emotions. Apparently, he knew. Even though I was jealous of his past conquests, I had to be grateful that he knew how to read me. When he moved on top of me, his weight grounding me, I grabbed at him, clinging to him as I’d clung to him throughout my life.

  When his cock brushed against my pussy, I moaned again, and when he slipped inside me, it hurt, but fuck, it hurt good.

  It was the kind of pain I could get with.

  I felt too full with both his width and length, but God, I knew, one day soon I’d love every inch he was giving to me now.

  When he was all the way inside me, he froze, and I almost wanted to tug at my hair. It was like I didn’t know what to do with myself, didn’t know where to put my hands or arms, and then he took my confusion and inexperience away from me. Bridging my fingers with his, he pinned my hands on either side of my head, and slowly began to move with shallow thrusts.

  His eyes were bound to mine and it felt like he was more than just fucking my body, but making love to my goddamn soul. I felt like such a pansy, but when tears burned my eyes, I had no choice but to let them fall. No choice at all. It was beautiful and raw, and it was everything I’d never even imagined for my first time. When he dipped his head and trailed his lips along my tears tracks, I gulped.

  “I love you, Ama,” he ground out, his mouth dropped to my ear where he nipped my earlobe. “Are you ready for me?”

  I swallowed. “Always.”

  He froze. “Birth control?”

  “The jab,” I groaned.

  “Good.”

  That was all the warning I got before he began to thrust into me. My face crumpled as the painful pleasure he triggered inside me detonated. “Fuck,” I wailed, my head swinging from side to side against the comforter as he thrust hard and fast into me. It was too much, and yet not enough, everything but nothing.

  I hauled my legs up and dug my heels into his ass, using that to press him harder into me, wanting him to move faster and get as deep as he could. I wanted no space between us, wanted to feel him in my fucking throat.

  Unable to stop myself, I twisted so I could bite down on his shoulder—it was either that or scream. As the frustrated feelings coalesced inside me, I realized how painful pleasure could be. It was like he was teasing me, but he was giving me everything!

  My fingers clamped down on his as I bucked into him.

  “Ama?” My name was loaded with concern, but there was nothing to be worried about.

  “Harder,” I gasped, staring blindly up at him. “Please,” I begged.

  His grin shone briefly, and even as it lit me up inside, he gave me what I’d begged for.

  This.

  Fuck.

  This was what I needed.

  His cock hit me so deeply that I knew I’d be walking funny tomorrow, but did I care? Nope. I didn’t. I didn’t give a crap. Instead, I gloried in the pleasure that was bubbling away deep inside me. I knew I was close, could feel it, there, in the distance, ready to push me over, over—

  “Oh God!” I cried, my back arching, my head falling back into the covers as my entire body strained with the surge of pleasure that overcame me until I was drowning in it, until all that I was became absorbed into that bubble of pleasure.

  The only thing that penetrated that bubble?

  Liam.

  He growled, “Oh, fuck. Ama! Babe, Ama!” Each word was punctuated by a thrust until he stilled and I felt him, deep in my core, his heat, his warmth, the scalding sear of him.

  Everything that made me me was rewritten in that moment as I took that final step away from the past and into a future where he was in it, not just as a friend, but at my side.

  If that wasn’t enough to make my world brighter, then nothing was.

  5

  Keys

  Having Kenzie on the back of my bike felt weird.

  Hell, it felt more than weird. The only woman who’d ever been on here before was Ama, and to be honest, that felt right. Having her body snuggled into me, even when it was a boiling hot summer’s day, made sense to me.

  It was like how my heart beat.

  My lungs bellowed air in and out.

&nb
sp; It just was.

  Kenzie’s belly didn’t help. It stuck into my back, making the nine-hour trip even more torturous than it already was. I mean, this was my first run, so I wasn’t accustomed to sitting on my bike for that length of time with very few breaks in between.

  I wasn’t bitching as this kind of run wasn’t something a prospect usually got to experience, but because Ama never liked going farther than Jonsson, we never really even crossed the borders of the district, so my ass was aching like a bitch, and my back, with Kenzie’s bump sticking into it? Yeah, I was going to be walking like I had something shoved up my butt for a while—and while I totally didn’t agree with kink shaming, there was no way in fuck that was my kink.

  When we made it to the last scheduled stop before we’d be approaching Corpus Christi, the city nearest us, I was relieved as all hell to climb off my bike after steadying Kenzie. She stumbled a little, but Saint was there to support her. I wished I hadn’t seen it, but I saw her flinch at his touch, even if it was supposed to be helpful.

  She kind of reminded me of a dog who’d been kicked. I just hoped that she wouldn’t flinch for the rest of her life, even if that cunt Hex had taught her to always be wary around other men.

  Would time heal that wound?

  I didn’t pray, didn’t really believe in God, but for her sake, I prayed she would overcome this, and knew that I’d do anything in my power to make sure she did.

  When Saint backed off after helping her, I cut him a look and dipped my chin in thanks. He grunted and asked, “Want something to eat?”

  “I’m fucking starving, man.”

  He snorted. “You’re always starving.”

  My cell buzzed and I dug it out from my pocket. Seeing a text from Ama, I laughed when I saw it was a photo of her eating a cookie. The little minx had made my favorite kind.

  Me: You’d better save me one.

  Ama: Maybe. Depends on how long it takes you to get here.

  Me: You know we’re not supposed to give out locations/distances.

  Ama: *shrugs* Sucks to be you then, doesn’t it?

  I grunted, then peered at Kenzie who was waddling behind Saint down the sidewalk. It was grim as fuck for a service station. Everything looked like it needed a coat of paint. Either that or a damn good scrub. I mean, I wasn’t the cleanest fucker in the world, but Jesus, this place was the pits.

  Scraping a hand over my face, I mumbled, “Fuck’s sake.”

  Me: You know that Dagger gave me a list of shit not to do before I went on this run, right?

  Ama: He did? Can I read the rules when you get back?

  I snorted. Me: No. Since when were you a Prospect?

  Ama: Since you became one. You’re my project.

  Hiding a laugh as I shuffled down the sidewalk behind my blood sister and a brother who was almost like blood, I typed: I got the whole ‘we know how close you are to Ama’ talk. I.e. they don’t want me to share shit with you.

  Ama: That’s because they think I’m a saint.

  My lips twitched because, Ama, even if she didn’t know it, was our saint.

  Me: Maybe. But we know otherwise, don’t we? ;)

  Ama: Okay, I’ll save you one. Seeing as you’re trying to guilt trip me.

  She sent another picture, this one had the chocolate chips oozing out from the cookie crumb and onto her hand. My mouth watered at that, but mostly, it was watering at the particularly nice shot I got of her tits.

  That was spank bank material right there.

  Me: Glad it worked. Gonna go eat now. See you soon.

  Ama: If it’s late, I might be at Black Ink.

  Me: Why? I frowned down at my phone at her text, and my frown only deepened when she didn’t instantly reply.

  Me: Ama? You getting a tattoo? I’d be beyond pissed if I missed out on her getting her first tattoo, especially after she’d laughed at me when I got mine.

  Me: Ammmmma?

  Ama: What?

  Me: Since when do you go to Black Ink?

  She usually avoided the place because she had the biggest crush on Ink. I didn’t think she knew we knew, but fuck, there was no hiding from it. Every time I saw her making goo-goo eyes at him, I wanted to ram my fist into his throat.

  Ama: Since I’m apprenticing there.

  That had me halting on my way to the service stop diner.

  Me: Holy fuck. Since when were you apprenticing there?

  Ama: It was decided after you left.

  Me: I’ve been gone like a day and a half.

  Ama: See what happens when you’re gone? You’re always gonna miss shit. Should have stayed here, and if you had, you’d be getting more than one cookie too…

  I rolled my eyes. Me: Yeah, yeah.

  Ama: :P Speak later, be safe, know I’ll kill you if you get into a crash, I’ll kill you before the crash can, and remember I have cookies I’m not afraid of eating.

  I’d like to eat her fucking cookie.

  Instead of texting anything like that, something that would probably stun the shit out of her, I just heaved a breath and typed: I’ll be safe. X

  For her. I didn’t tell her that, but yeah, I’d be safe for her because I knew she meant every word, and to be honest, I kind of liked that.

  Realizing that I was the only one of my brothers not to have made it into the shitty diner attached to the service station, I joined them.

  As I opened the door, my boots stuck to the cracked Lino and I headed past the equally cracked red vinyl booths toward the area Saint and Kenzie had taken. At their side was Long John—so named because he refused to go on a run without a pair of Long Johns on, didn’t matter if it was a hundred degrees outside or not—and Crocker, who was addicted to Betty Crocker cake mixes. Yeah, road names weren’t always representative of the mean fuckers out there.

  Long John’s work with a knife was pure art. Back in the day, when the MC had taken on plenty of murders for hire, he’d been on Dagger’s crew—knife jobs. Muggings gone wrong. That kind of shit.

  Crocker was an apprentice of Bomber Steeler. He’d been the Prez before Wolfe, and he’d died in a ‘skirmish’ with the MC we were currently riding down to the compound with.

  Funny how shit changed thanks to a daughter.

  As I slinked into the booth, Saint caught my eye. “Ordered you pancakes.”

  I pulled a face. “You sure you want to eat here? Looks like they spit in your food.”

  Long John grinned at me. “Ain’t nothing wrong with spit.”

  “At the risk of sounding like a girl, ‘ew.’”

  Kenzie, for the first time since she’d come to me, laughed. Actually fucking laughed. Her nose wrinkled as she murmured, “Well, I am a girl, and I’ll say it for you. Ew, LJ, that’s fucked up.”

  He shrugged, but shot her a wink. “I love me some spit.”

  She groaned. “Yeah, but a stranger’s? In your food?”

  “Prefer a chick’s.”

  I blinked at him. “Can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” Rubbing my eyes, I mumbled, “Dude, you’re gross.”

  He slapped me on the back. “I’ll remember that when I send you off to do some shit on my behalf. I’ll enjoy the fact you can’t say ‘no’ even more.”

  Shooting him the bird, I sank back into the booth and sighed.

  “Surprised you haven’t bitched about the long ride by now,” Crocker pointed out over his coffee mug. In his cut, he looked like the mean motherfucker he was. With the skull on his throat, the one that was smoking a cigarette, you wouldn’t think the bastard could get through four boxes of cake mix in a week.

  The bastard was skinny as a fucking rake too, and he had all his teeth. Somehow. Maybe that was more of a miracle than anything else.

  “My ass is aching,” I admitted, and grinned when they all hooted. Though I flipped them the bird again, I just mumbled, “Where’s the spit-pancakes?”

  Kenzie grunted. “You trying to make me puke?”

  “If four hours on a goddamn bike d
oesn’t make you puke, I think we’re good.”

  “I’d have preferred a chauffeured limo to be the vehicle that was used to rescue me,” she stated with a wry smile, “but I’ll take my knights however I can get them.”

  “Seriously, you okay?” Crocker asked, all serious now.

  “Yeah. I’m used to being on the back of a bike. More than boy wonder over there. This the first time you’ve left the county?”

  Fuck. Hadn’t taken her long to turn back into a bitch. Still, I preferred that to her flinching at everything and anything—in fact. What was that about?

  As I said, “Not my fault. Only just fucking graduated, Kenz,” I studied her. Studied her and saw that she was leaning into Long John.

  The hell?

  Long John was twice my age, which made the fact he wore thermal undies all the time even fucking weirder in my opinion—dude wasn’t pushing eighty, after all.

  “Bullshit. You still panting after little miz angel?” Kenzie taunted.

  My narrowed eyes should have told her to back off. “What’s got you in a snit?” I demanded. “You go from flinching when Saint helped you off the damn bike to, what? Turning back into a grade-A bitch?”

  “Just making a comment, that’s all,” she sniped back.

  “Fuck, well, I didn’t miss this Kenzie. I can tell you that for nothing,” I ground out. “Ama has never done anything but be nice to you, and fuck, if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t even be here. Her granddaddy would have let you rot with that cunt of an old man you chose. So don’t you dare talk shit about her when she ain’t here to defend herself.”

  I wasn’t ashamed of the words I spoke, but I was annoyed at myself with the tone and the volume. She flinched again, but there was no way in fuck I was going to let Kenzie revert to the bitch of old just because she had a friend on her side again—because, now that I thought about it, Long John and my dad had been pretty close. But I’d been twelve when dad had been put inside, and I barely knew him, never mind his friends.

  Long John, to me, was just another brother. Wolfe, Flame, Dagger, and Axe had all helped raise me after Lucie insisted I come and stay at their house when dad had been locked up and my mom had died. They were the ones who’d taken over that role, and it was why I’d die for them, why I’d do anything in my power to give them whatever they needed because they’d taken a terrified orphan in and had treated me well.