His Rose: Liberty Pirates MC

by Brogan Riley

  “What do you want from me, Seke?” Defiance seeps through her words.

  I love that warrior of hers. She can be my equal, but she doesn’t realise this yet.

  “I want you to be happy,” I say. “I want to get to know you better.”

  “There are hordes of women out there, all of them hungry for you, waiting for you to get to know them better.”

  “There’s only one little red rose.”

  She sucks in a breath. “What do you want to know?” Tears glitter in her eyes. “I’m clumsy, mental, and hopeless. Don’t bother. I’m not worthy of your precious time.”

  Fuck. Why is she so broken? Time should have healed her wounds.

  I should heal her wounds.

  I will.

  Her tears wake an unstoppable animal inside of me. An animal that wants to take the sadness away from her.

  Rose

  I manage only a squeal as he pulls me into his strong arms. Our bodies clenched tight, we tumble over so I’m on my back and he’s on top of me.

  “I’ll take care of you, baby girl.”

  “Like this?”

  “In every way.”

  I gasp. “What do you mean? I mean… what…”

  What does he mean? A quick fuck? A one-night stand? Two nights?

  He eases his weight onto his elbows, sliding his hands under my arms and then under my head. His dangerously beautiful eyes lock onto mine.

  “I want to take care of you, Rose.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Tonight, tomorrow, for longer.”

  “For how long?”

  “It’s up to you. Everything’s gonna be up to you from now on.”

  Like hell. He’ll always be in charge and I’ll get scraps. The laws of universe don’t change. Ever.

  I squirm beneath him, my hands clenched against my stomach.

  I want to stay with him forever, and I want to escape him.

  He is so beautiful. Why would this beautiful man waste his precious time on me?

  “You serious about that trip to Peru, Seke?”

  “Very serious.”

  “We could ride your bike.”

  “I will ride my bike and you will ride on my bike.” He lowers his head, brushing my temple with his hot lips.

  You see, Rose? He’s the authority here, always will be, and you are allowed to make very tiny, very unimportant decisions.

  He manipulates his bun and his long hair falls onto my face, thick and sleek against my skin, as his scorching breath puffs on my neck. He nibbles on my earlobe. “You can ride me if you want to,” he rasps.

  Our glances meet. I can see the elemental need blazing in his eyes. God, his women must be crying for years after he trashes them. He’s not just a man. He’s a fallen angel. He’s the charm of brutality and menace. He’s my every dream.

  “I’m not that skilled,” I say. “If you’d kept me in the clubhouse not in the catholic school, I’d have grown more experienced. I’m sorry but I’m a nun.”

  I see fury explode in his eyes, but he says nothing, just looks at me like he wants to kill me. Or devour me, I’m not sure. The fire in his eyes is all power.

  I feel his hand grip the back of my head and then his mouth covers mine. I yelp and stiffen beneath him, but he kisses me so expertly that my body starts living its own life. My thighs brace his hips. My arms encircle his neck.

  My pussy clenches with need.

  Our bodies rub against each other as he kisses me deeper, almost violently. His massive erection digs into my inner thigh. His cock is enormous and only the fabric of his boxers prevents his monster from claiming me.

  He kisses his way down to my cleavage as my lips sting and swell from his kiss. His fingers slip under the strap of my bra and he lowers it, exposing my breast.

  Fuck. This is serious. This is very adult-like.

  I feel like a little girl. My body suddenly resembles an ungraceful slug. I don’t know what to do with my hands.

  Seke palms my breast and circles my nipple with his thumb. His tongue follows, teasingly wet, shamelessly curious. His mouth caresses my pebbled flesh as he bites down on my erect nipple.

  I can’t breathe.

  “Rose, look at me.”

  Seke

  I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Her eyes are like two chasms of lust and confusion. Her lips are so beautifully swollen, parted, pleading for more of my kisses. Her face radiates innocence and elemental hunger, an irresistible mix. With the indecency of her hard nipples, she’s all pure seduction.

  It’s all mine. Untouched. Singing for me to claim it.

  But not tonight.

  She needs more time.

  I crawl off her and turn her over so she lies on her side. “Sleep, Rose.”

  “Really?” A pinch of raspy sarcasm sprinkles her voice.

  I pull her into my arms, setting her back against my chest more solidly. “I want you to feel like a little princess, you know. Rushing things is not good for princesses.”

  “You mean I’m not one of your whores?”

  “No, you are not.”

  “So—“

  “Sleep.”

  “But—“

  “I said sleep.”

  Her body softens and her breathing deepens. She wiggles, sighs, and falls asleep, or pretends to be doing so.

  God, I love holding her in my arms. She was born to live in my embrace, close to me, merged with me. I draw her even closer to me, her lush ass teasing my hard cock.

  She is not my whore.

  Not tonight and not tomorrow.

  She will be my princess for a while. Then she will be my little whore. My only whore.

  My wife and my whore. I need only her in life.

  I will teach her, shape her, wreck her. Sculpture her and create her to be only mine.

  Dirty fantasies enter my head.

  I want to have her on all fours. I’d pound her from behind and she’d whimper. I’d bend her over the table, slam her on the wall, push her to her knees. She’d take every merciless thrust.

  Fuck me.

  I’m a bad man.

  I’m mad about her.

  My balls are painful; my dick wants inside her.

  Fuck.

  I pinch a wisp of her hair, my eyes trailing her profile. She really is asleep.

  Rose

  I wake up, enveloped by his smell, wrapped up in his body, bathed in his kisses.

  “Hey,” he says into my ear.

  “Hey, I must have been really tired. The hangover and the rest…”

  Seke smiles at me. “You’re so beautiful.”

  All my insecurities are gone as though that one sentence has acted as a magic wand.

  Seke grazes along my chin, squeezing my breast with his hand and strokes my head. “You’re smiling at last.” He jumps out of the bed and slips into his jeans. “I’m hungry.”

  “Me too.” My eyes flick over the tent in his boxers before he zips up his jeans. I’m hungry for him, ravenous for all the dirty things he can do to me.

  “I’ll organise some breakfast then.” He pulls on a t-shirt and slips into his cut. With his bag in his hand, he moves towards the door. He looks over his shoulder. “I mean it, Rose.”

  I open my mouth to ask ‘what do you mean’, but he exits the room.

  I crawl off the bed. I feel kind of shaky and nauseous, but strangely happy.

  For longer? Like his old lady? Is this what he meant last night?

  I rummage around the room to gather up my belongings. My movements are dreamy, my mind hazy. I freeze, lose myself, scold myself in my mind, pull my clothes on, and then go to have a shower and brush my teeth. I return to the bedroom, grab my bag, and go downstairs.

  The café is still closed. Seke’s talking to the owner, his hair damp so he must have had a quick shower too. He walks over to me and takes my bag from my hand.

  “There’re eggs and baguettes and hash browns,” he says as he plants a kiss on my lips. “Emilio will
show you.” He presses his lips against mine and kisses me deeper, longer. It’s like a dance of seduction until Emilio clears his throat behind us. “Eat your breakfast, Rose.”

  I stare at him, frozen like an ice sculpture.

  Seke chuckles and exits the café as Emilio guides me towards the kitchen and shows me the food placed on the worktop. I sit on a bar stool and force myself to eat because I don’t want to offend the owner, but my stomach feels like it’s plastered to my spine. I almost throw up.

  Ten minutes later, Seke walks into the kitchen, talks to Emilio, tries to pay for our food, but fails miserably and we are ready to go.

  I realise I’m sitting on Seke’s bike and I can’t recall my way.

  “You okay, Rose?”

  I nod, but I’m not okay. I feel like I’m in a dream. Everything is too perfect, too impossible.

  The engine roars as we shoot forward. We ride along a motorway for about an hour then turn into an asphalt road that leads into the woods. It climbs in coils like it’s a snake wrapped around the hill as the humid exhale scented with resins, moss and rotten leaves envelops us. The density of vegetation allows only a few streaks of light to slice the air. We slow down and stop to stretch our muscles. The sun’s rays capture the dance of insects and pollen, creating magical scenery around us. Yep, like a real honeymoon.

  Seke watches the trees. I watch him. No, my eyes are glued to him.

  Panic surges through me.

  What do you do with a grown man?

  “Cheetah and Panther must be missing us,” I say.

  Seke turns his face to mine, his eyes flickering with amusement. “They miss you for sure. You’ve spoiled them rotten.”

  Wrong. I can’t behave like a little girl. I should be more mature.

  “I…” I start, but my voice breaks. My head is empty.

  “You have a gift, Rose. Animals trust you. You can soothe them with your touch and voice.”

  That was a compliment, right?

  “Jump on the bike,” Seke says.

  We resume our ride.

  The wall of trees thins and I see three mountains profile in the distance. Clouds of a pale navy colour flow past their bottoms and the peaks look like an Inca city built in the sky. The rock steeped in the greyish-blue air brings impressions of power and mystery to my head.

  Seke revs up and we turn into a path that opens into flat ground. I see a pond or a small lake encircled by grey rocks and a house built of stone. The bike stops by a street lamp. Seke helps me jump off as I stare at the house.

  “What is that?” I gasp.

  “A shelter.”

  “A shelter?”

  “One room that serves as a bedroom, kitchen and living room.” Seke grips my arm and pulls me to him. With his hand on the back of my neck, he kisses me on the top of my head. “It’s really nice.”

  “Not like a cavern or something?”

  “No, there’re mattresses and a stove—“

  “A bathroom?”

  “A very modern bathroom. You’ll love it here, I promise.”

  I exhale with relief. “Thank God.”

  “It’s only called a shelter, Rose. Just for fun.”

  He pulls me towards the black door with iron details and plunges his hand into the pocket of his jeans. A key shines silver in his hand. He puts it into the old lock and turns it with a rasp.

  My heart stops beating.

  Chapter 7

  Rose

  We enter the house and the interior greets me with the smell of old wood and apples and cinnamon. The walls of the shelter are made of grey stone and with four sash windows, they remind me of the Middle Ages, but the black granite kitchen worktop holds modern mugs, wine glasses and two expensive kettles. A small pine kitchen table with four stools holds a flowerpot with violets and a wicker basket with apples, bananas, and oranges. An antique stove stands next to the Victorian kitchen sink. The living area comprises two black leather sofas, two armchairs, a coffee table, a stone fireplace, and a flat screen that hangs on the wall. Four compartments created by three black ornate room dividers accommodate four mattresses spread on a stone platform with five steps. The bathroom must be behind the black door made of wood and iron.

  “So?” Seke wraps his arms around me from behind. “What do you think?”

  “It looks… interesting. A bit like a tent but has normal walls and a roof.”

  He chuckles as he plants a kiss on my neck, his touch causing heat to fill my tummy. “Hungry?”

  “No.” My stomach growls. What a traitor. “A bit.”

  “I’ll make something to eat and you just relax, okay?”

  I drop onto one of the sofas and watch him open the fridge. It’s full. He takes veggies and meat out of it and starts cooking. I go to the bathroom. I pee and wash my hands. Stare at my reflection in the antique mirror hanging above the Victorian washbasin. There are red marks on my neck and my cheeks are red from Seke’s facial hair.

  It’s all too good to be true. Something bad will happen, I’m sure as fuck.

  Not to mention that most of the time I have no idea what is going on. Seke has been talking to me a lot, but I need more clarity. More of his reassuring sentences like ‘I love you’ or ‘I’m going to marry you’. I feel like I’m not mature enough. I need to be soothed like a baby and he’s a grown man.

  All the women he’s had were mature. Confident and mouthy. Experienced in bed.

  Bitterness slithers up my chest and strangles my throat.

  I walk out of the bathroom and the smell of fried veggies teases my nostrils. It blends with the smell of resins coming out of the fireplace. The twigs crackle as red flames seize them and dance ardently.

  “Come here,” Seke says.

  I move closer to him. He puts his hands on my waist and sits me on the kitchen worktop as though I weighed nothing. My eyes roam over his naked chest. I’ve seen him like this many times. Yet, everything is new now. So scary. So enticing.

  I’ve watched him helping the animals, painting the walls, exercising in the gym. I know every tattoo on his skin, every scar, every mole.

  “Open your mouth,” he says as he dips a finger into a bowl and puts it into my mouth.

  I wrap my mouth around his fingertip. Dill sauce. My favourite.

  I lick his finger clean and feel like a wanton woman. “Really nice.”

  “Everything for my little red rose.”

  “I’ve always loved your cooking.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “You’ve been away or busy most of the time.” Hurt coats my voice.

  There’s silence, heavy and suffocating.

  “I’m back, Rose, and I’m all for you.” He kisses me on the top of my head.

  I don’t know what to say, so I drop my head and flop from the kitchen worktop. “What are you cooking?”

  “That’s my mother’s recipe.”

  I purr. Aponi is an excellent cook. Each time she visits us, she cooks Scottish traditional meals for us. I really like her, but Seke’s parents visit only a few times a year. Tara’s been living in the compound since she turned fifteen. She hated the village where her family home is, so she followed Seke.

  Aponi is a Cheyenne and her parents died in the fire that swallowed their house when she was five. That’s all she knows about her roots. She’d spent her childhood and adolescence in foster care. She’d gone through hell before she met Findlay. Seke’s dad is always so gentle with her, so caring. They’re a perfect couple—her delicacy and wisdom, his roughness and fierce love.

  Seke stirs the dish with a wooden spoon. “We could go visit my parents one day.”

  “I’d love to. I could live with them under one roof.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Seke

  Rose slips down into the armchair and watches me. “You’re curious about your roots sometimes?”

  I chuckle. “What roots? My great granddad was a gangster. My granddad was a gangster. My dad is
a fisherman. And a thief. Pretty criminal roots, huh?”

  Rose bursts into laughter. It’s pearly, genuine. “Your dad steals, but only from the rich. And only sometimes. Your mom, she’s—“

  “Tara and I are Scots. My mother is almost a Scot.”

  “But Aponi’s roots are so interesting.”

  “You want to go there one day? See her ancestors’ land?”

  “I want that very badly.”

  My father has taken my mother to her people twice. She was very excited and very grateful, but she definitely prefers her life on the coast with him by her side. She’s very modest. A very wise. My father thinks he’s in charge. He’s so very wrong.

  She’s been studying her ancestors’ culture and language, but lives like a Scottish woman. Her friends are very diverse—an Irish single mom, a Korean grandmother, and a Dutch single nurse.

  My mother has been harsh on me since Rose turned sixteen. I just don’t get it. My sister and mother just stopped treating me like family one day. I’m like a mortal enemy to them.

  I tried really hard to make Rose’s and her brother’s life as easy as possible. My mother and sister can’t see that apparently. My father nods and pats my shoulder each time we see each other. He likes Rose and her brother. Putting Rose into catholic school was his idea, but everybody thinks it was mine.

  “I don’t have any roots,” Rose says with sadness.

  Her grandparents passed away. Her parents passed away.

  I feel my throat tighten. “You can have mine.”

  “That’s cheating.”

  “That’s sharing.”

  I sweep my hair down my back. I love the way her eyes are tracing my movement. I’ve heard a lot of compliments from my bitches, but they didn’t matter to me. They were echoes in a well.

  Rose’s words matter. Her amazed eyes matter.

  I dish up, accompanied by her laughter, and we sit down around the coffee table. Rose is sitting cross-legged, and I’m sitting with one knee bent.

  “Delicious,” she says with a full mouth.

  “You want to swim in the lake when we’re finished?”

  She shakes her head. “I haven’t packed any swimsuit.”

  “You don’t need any. There’s nobody here. I bought this place because it’s far from everything and everyone.”