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Claimed: Satan's Knights MC

Page 35

by Brook Wilder


  In that respect, he’d been lucky. He’d never known paradise, so it hadn’t hurt near as much when he’d lost it. He’d never know there was another way.

  “Drugs,” he said softly, after an interminably long silence, both lost deep in their own thoughts, their own painful memories of the past.

  “What?” Elle asked the question, just as soft.

  “My parents. It was drugs,” he shrugged, falling back on the guise of uncaring casualness that he did whenever the rare moment arose that he talked about what little experience with family he’d had. And it wasn’t much.

  “They were both addicts. My mom got pregnant with me. I was one of those, what are they called, methadone babies? Spent the first few months of my life getting clean,” Honey shook his head, “more than either of my parents did. I basically raised myself. Got through school okay. I was smart.” He grinned over at Elle, but it was a bitter grin, a grin full of cynicism and pain.

  “I learned how to forge my mom’s signature for registration, for field trips, for anything, really. I learned how to steal food when my parents were too high to go to the grocery store. I made it through high school without failing any of my classes. I had dreams of going to college, even.” Honey barked out a rough laugh. The dreams he’d used to have were long gone, along with the boy he’d used to be. Hopeful, no matter how many times life had shit on him. He still kept believing that his break would come, that the answers would all fall into place.

  “I had just graduated. It was one of the proudest days of my life. Because I’d done it on my own, despite everything. Despite the shithole family I’d had the misfortune of being born to.”

  “What happened?” Elle asked after he went quiet, “did you go to college?”

  “No,” Honey said on another rough laugh, “No. That summer me and a bunch of friends took off on a trip. A sort of last hurrah before going our separate ways.” He could remember that summer so clearly, the first part of it anyways. Staying out all night drinking and smoking, sneaking away with Sara Parker under the bridge.

  “It had been magical, at first. Those first few weeks. No family to worry about, no school, no responsibility. Not a care in the world and the unshakable belief that we were invincible.”

  “Then what?”

  “One night, it was a Tuesday, we all went out to this house party. It was warm out, and everyone was either drunk or high. A buddy of mine dragged me upstairs to this bedroom where they were doing some drugs and asked if I wanted in. I shrugged and held out my arm. It was the first time I ever did heroine.” Honey couldn’t look over at Elle, couldn’t stand to see the look that he knew would be shining in her dark eyes.

  “The first time, but not the last time. It sucked me in, killed me little by little until there was almost nothing left. That’s when Joel found me. He helped me get clean. He helped me become a member of the Dirty Cruisers. I’ll never forget that day,” Honey wasn’t aware of the sudden smile that tilted up his lips as he spoke, “I was born Cooper Delaney, but that was the day I became Honey, and that’s who I’ve been ever since.”

  They were both silent then, as the movie played on unseen, both thinking about their past, and the paths that had led them to each other. Because Honey knew it had to be more than random happenstance that had dropped Elle Watson in the middle of his lap. He’d had plenty of women over the years, but there was something different about her. Something so pure and so clean that drew him like a moth to a flame.

  Something so different from any other person that he’d ever known before. She was honest and brave, braver than he ever could have imagined now that he knew what she’d had to live through. That kind of pain shaped a person. He knew that from experience. It either made you hard and brittle, or it made you strong. Strong enough to face life head on, even knowing how terrible it can be. How painful. How merciless.

  Honey looked over at her, tracing her profile. The delicate curve of her cheek, the way her nose tilted up at the end. She tucked a stray lock of blond hair behind one ear in an unconscious gesture and he watched her, entranced. Everything about her seemed so fragile, so small and delicate. Everything except for her spirit. That shone like a beacon, pulling him towards her, and he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself as he reached out one hand and slid it gently under her jaw.

  Slowly, he pulled her face towards his until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. The force of it hit him like a ton of bricks straight to the solar plexus. He couldn’t look away from the sheen of moisture that caught the flickering light from the television and threw it back at him in watery black and white. It was like he could feel all of the emotions that swept through her, like in that one, single moment they were perfectly connected. Two people who had suffered, and had come out the other end alive, and better for it.

  Without thought Honey leaned forward, at the same time sliding his fingers up to cup the silky soft skin of her cheek, placed his lips against hers and kissed her.

  Chapter 17

  The touch rocked through her. It was so intense that it stole the breath clean from her lungs and she had to cling to him dizzily. Elle curled her fingers into his shirt, trying to pull him closer but he didn’t move. Nothing else touched except their lips, and the hand that Honey had curled around her cheek.

  His fingers slid with the utmost gentleness down the side of her neck until they could spear into the soft waves of her hair. He used his hand to hold her still with the softest of pressure as he tilted his head, his mouth angling over hers for better contact.

  She gasped as his tongue teased against the seam of her lips, allowing him instant access and he slid it in to tease wetly with hers. It was slow and languorous and had a heaviness seeping through her that made it hard to move. Not that she wanted to. No, she could finally admit to herself that she was exactly where she wanted to be. In Honey’s arms.

  Elle was overwhelmed by the emotion that stole through her at his kiss. Just a simple kiss, but there was nothing simple about the painful need that was bubbling up inside her. But still, he kept things slow. So sweet and gentle, so unlike their first times together, and so tender that it had tears stinging the corners of her eyes and she had to squeeze them tight.

  His kiss didn’t stop, it didn’t slow or speed up. On and on, his mouth moved, light and soft against hers until she felt like she was drowning in his kiss. He nipped at her lower lip, drawing it gently between his teeth and she let out a breathy moan at the pleasure that ripped through her.

  Something about his pace, or the maybe it was the fact that their bodies were still inches apart, made the ecstasy that much more intense, that much more overwhelming. His scent surrounded her and every time she inhaled she drew more and more of him deep inside her. Honey invaded every part of her, that heaviness spreading like syrup until she could feel moisture pool warm and wet between her thighs. She moved restlessly then, unknowing, wanting him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her entire life. But nothing she did could make him alter his slow, steady pace.

  Torturously, his fingers grasped the edge of her cardigan, just barely touching her as he pulled it off her boneless arms. They were so heavy she could hardly lift them at all but then he was working on her blouse, anticipation spiking through her as he painstakingly unbuttoned each button going down the front and slid it front her shoulders to land unheeded next to her sweater.

  “Lean back,” he whispered the words roughly against her mouth, still not breaking the kiss as he helped her back until she hit the arm of the couch behind her and he was working on the button and zipper of her jeans. Elle reached down to help but he held both of her wrists over her head with one hand while he went back to work on the closures with the other.

  “Honey–” she breathed out, frustration making her move restlessly but he stopped her with a gently touch.

  “No, Elle. Let me.”

  With her hands restrained above her head there wasn’t much she could to argue with him so she tried
to hold herself still as he worked, finally getting the zipper undone and slowly, so slowly he inched the jeans down her legs until he could throw those as well to the floor. Honey made quick work of her bra and it took her a full minute to realize that she was completely naked and spread out underneath him.

  The sudden need to be skin to skin shot through her and she arched her hips up into his, relishing his quick indrawn breath.

  “You, too,” she whispered against him, tugging at his grip and he reluctantly let her go. Immediately her fingers went to work, drawing his shirt up and over his head, fumbling at the button on his jeans but the trembling in her limbs and digits didn’t help.

  Honey took pity on her, pulling back enough to shimmy out of his jeans and boxers and they both groaned simultaneously as he helped her to lay back onto the couch, every inch of his hard, muscled body pressed against hers.

  It was almost too much for Elle as he began to run feather-light kisses up and down her entire body, every part he could reach of her. He teased her, drawing her higher and higher as pleasure flooded through her hyper sensitive system, but it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

  But still, he continued, teasing her, torturing her until she thought she couldn’t take a second more. As his kisses landed, sweet and chaste and at the same time the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced in her entire life.

  Elle’s chest tightened with bittersweet emotion as her hips rolled of their own volition, begging him without words. Words that she couldn’t form, that she didn’t have the oxygen or focus to. All of her attention was on Honey, and the exquisite pleasure pain he was ringing from her body.

  Desire swept through her, all-encompassing as he traced a path across her hip and down the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She could hear him inhale and rather than embarrassment Elle felt a wave of power. She knew that he was just as much at a mercy of whatever spell had been cast between them as she was.

  And then he was reaching out with his fingers, sliding them easily along the already wet inner lips of her pussy and she couldn’t hold back when she moaned out his name. All thoughts were gone, wiped away by the pleasure he wrought with his hands, bringing her higher and higher. But still keeping her just out of reach, holding back just enough to keep her right on the edge.

  “Please, Honey. Please,” Elle said, her voice breaking as pleasure and desire wracked her, “I need you.”

  ***

  I need you. The sweetest words Honey had ever heard echoed over and over in his head in time to his racing pulse and the lust sweeping through his body. Like a mantra, or a totem, he repeated them, he clung to them as he worshiped Elle’s body. With his tongue and mouth and fingers he teased her, over and over he brought her to the edge, just about to come before pulling back again.

  He loved the way her body moved, like silk and water beneath him. She was so beautiful that it stole his breath clear out of his lungs and he had to inhaled deep of her as his kisses trailed over her entire body. Every inch of bare skin he could reach. Nothing went untouched, unexplored. Delving into every crevice, every secret hollow, until he knew all of her, ingrained in his mind like a map.

  Elle twisted and turned beneath him, begging with him, pleading with him and her words sank deep inside him, wrapping around him, healing a scar that he’d never known he carried, soothing the bitterness that he’d held within for so long. But then desire was back, riding him fiercely and he couldn’t wait.

  Finally, it was too much for him as well. Every moment that he’d spent teasing Elle, he’d been torturing himself at the same time, driving the fire hotter and hotter between them until he thought he was about to explode.

  With a frustrated curse, he fumbled with the condom packet, finally ripping it with his teeth and rolling it on, impatience driving him forward. He needed to feel her. He needed to be inside her. Now. He couldn’t wait another second, wouldn’t survive with her sweet heat surrounding him.

  With a grown of pleasure unlike anything he’d ever known, he grasped her hips, pulled her thighs up until they wrapped around his and he sank all the way to the hilt inside her. They both froze for a moment, Elle’s eyes squeezed shut as pure ecstasy played over her features.

  And then, he was lost in her, lost in the rhythm of their bodies meeting, their souls meeting over and over again until a frenzied pace caught them both on the brink. A moment later the pleasure grew so sharp he had to cry out her name a second before Elle shuddered beneath him, clawing at his back, and he followed a moment later, everything inside him shattering into a million pieces. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to put them back the same again. He didn’t think he wanted to.

  Chapter 18

  Honey felt like he was walking on clouds as he strode through the tiny, mismatched kitchen to make two cups of tea. Everywhere he looked there were reminders of Elle, her touch in every small detail. The way the porcelain tea cups all had flowers on them, but didn’t match. The handmade labels affixed to bottles and jars of various sizes, all penned in her meticulous script, and all filled with spices and seasonings, all the things she used to bake with.

  She was a notoriously good cook. He could attest to that fact as he inhaled deep, drawing in the sweet and spicy aroma of cinnamon rolls coming from the 1950’s looking oven. It even had the speckled ceramic interior.

  “Honey, can you take the cinnamon rolls out of the oven? I think they’re done!” she called from the back room, the one she called the music room. She had to reschedule some of her piano lessons for first thing in the morning since so much of her time had been taken up with the farm. Honey had a feeling this particular student wouldn’t mind having to wake up a little earlier once he got a taste of one those rolls.

  A second after Elle’s words reached him, the timer in the shape of a tomato started to beep on the counter next to the stove and he hastily quieted it. Grabbing a kitchen towel, he gingerly pulled out the hot pan, turned the oven off, and inhaled again. Heaven.

  This must be what heaven feels like, he thought to himself as he looked out at the sunny morning just outside the small kitchen window that hung over the sink. This is what paradise must be.

  He couldn’t remember ever feeling so…happy. That was the word. That was the feeling that bubbled up like golden light, that made him want to laugh for no reason. The water in the tea kettle started to boil and he quickly poured the steaming liquid in the cups, adding extra honey for himself and juggling three still molten hot cinnamon rolls.

  Honey was still juggling them all precariously as he made his way back to the music room. They were just finishing up their lesson. It was a little girl in a pink dress and long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was furiously focused on watching Elle’s fingers as they swept across the keyboard of the piano, a seriousness in her expression that reminded him so much of Elle that it made his chest hurt. In that moment, it was so easy to imagine that she was their child, that this was what every morning was. Simple. Sweet. Honest and heartfelt. And most of all, good.

  Whoa! Get a fucking grip, man! His inner voice chastised him and he had to shake off the fantasy. Because that was all it was. Just a fantasy. Nothing real. But maybe it could be, one day. Another voice whispered, a soft, sad voice that lived deep inside him, a voice that he’d thought had died long ago. Hope.

  Honey watched her for another ten minutes, entranced, as she finished up the lesson, congratulating the girl on learning so fast and assigning a new piece for her to work on during the week before sending her on her way.

  Elle started playing around on the piano, her hands playing instantly, easily, some soft happy tune that reminded him of a lullaby.

  “What?” she finally asked, noticing his stare that was trained on her. He just shrugged, handing over a roll and the extra cup of tea he’d made for her.

  “You really love them, don’t you?”

  “Who?”

  “Kids,” he said, tilting his head to examine her, “You really love working
with kids.”

  “I do,” Elle said simply, smiling up at him as she took a bite. His own was long gone. “I’ve always loved kids. I thought that maybe one day I’d be a teacher but…” she trailed off, looking down at her fingers as they trilled out a tiny melody. The sound turned sadder, more wistful, “I couldn’t, not with having a panic attack every time I was around more than five people.”

  “But it’s better now, your anxiety,” Honey added when she looked at him questioningly. But then it was her turn to shrug.

  “I suppose it is, yeah, I’ve worked hard over the last ten years to get better, to not let it affect me so much. But, I would still have to go to school and get a teaching degree and this is…this is enough,” she said as she slowly ran her hands just over the keys, not making any noise now.

 

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