MC ROMANCE: Wanted by the Alpha Biker (Motorcycle Club Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (MC Romantic Suspense Contemporary New Adult Short Stories)

by Alix Labelle

  “That will probably make this easier.” Wren felt her small, flat nipples pucker under his caress. “I thought you would be in Berlin this week, overseeing the construction of that children’s hospital.”

  “I am doing that by Skype.” He took off her trousers and boxers, and then removed his own. Tashiro had a long, lean body that decades of studying kendo had honed to a gracefully lethal perfection. He stood beside the bed looking down at her for so long she squirmed a little.

  “It’s not a very sexy body, Tashiro,” she admitted. “But it works fine.”

  Eliot bent to silence her with a kiss. A moment later he lay atop her, his weight pinning her to the mattress as he took her mouth like a marauder. The taste of him made her head spin. When he shifted down to tenderly suckle her nipples, she arched under him and cried out.

  “Shhhh.” Eliot reached down to fist the thick shaft of his erect penis, and guide it between her thighs. “I can’t wait another second either. No more emptiness for either of us.” He hesitated. “We need protection.”

  “I’m clean, and safe.” Wren stared up into his enigmatic eyes, almost afraid he would change his mind now. A heartbeat later she felt the broad head of his shaft press in, and her softness went liquid. Once he breached her all of her senses went into overdrive. “Tashiro.”

  He kissed her brow. “I am here, little bird. I have you now.”

  Wren gave herself over to the merging. The stretching sensation of her wet sex enveloping him as he pushed into her sent new, dark streaks of excitement through her belly.

  Eliot’s jaw tightened as he went deeper. Once he’d filled her completely, he released a low, heartfelt sigh. “You fit me so well, my lovely one. I knew you would.” Carefully he drew out of her, and then forged back inside, the slick friction making her gasp. “Oh, yes, there, now you feel it, don’t you? Did you think it would be like this?”

  “You talk too much.” Wren suddenly couldn’t catch her breath. “Please, Tashiro, I have to – oh, like that, yes.”

  Eliot never looked away from her face as he fucked her, his deep, hard shafting fueling the desperate ache inside her. Wren curled her hands into fists and planted them against his chest. She felt the climax building inside her, but it seemed so large and strong that she resisted it. She couldn’t fall apart like this, not with him, not with anyone . . . but if she didn’t, she’d never know.

  “More.” She arched her back as his thrusts grew harder and faster. “Yes, like that.”

  “Take what you need from me, Wren.” Eliot bent his dark head to cover one small nipple with his lips. He lifted his head only to do the same to her other little mound.

  The feel of his tongue on her pushed her almost to the brink. “Eliot.”

  He moved off her, shifting back and dragging her hips to the very edge of the bed. Once he moved between her slim thighs and joined their slick sexes again he smiled down at her. “Now we finish this dance.”

  Eliot’s thrusts into her body grew harder and deeper, and soon it felt as if his hard, thick penis had become a piston driving the engine of her pleasure out of control. Wren curled her fingers into the bed cover as she spiraled even higher, her body so taut now she thought the coming delight might just snap some of her thin bones.

  It was at that moment that Eliot drove deep and clamped her nipples between his fingers, pinching them gently as he said, “Let go, little bird. You can trust me. I will always catch you.”

  Rather than the violent shattering Wren expected, a waterfall of pleasure poured through her. It cascaded over all her fears and doubts, sweeping away everything but the delight of dancing with Eliot again. Dimly she heard him groan, and felt the delicious jet of his seed bathing her from within, warm and silky. She cried out as his climax pushed her through her own orgasm and into another.

  Wren wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as her softness contracted around his shaft. She felt his penis hardening again inside her, and Eliot make a strange sound.

  A soft moan of bliss left her lips as she felt him spurt inside her a second time.

  After that Eliot kissed her and held her for what seemed like hours as their bodies cooled and sanity restored itself. When she finally tilted her head back she saw in his dark eyes the same glow of dazed wonder she felt.

  “I really like the way you dance,” she mentioned, running her hand down the length of his arm. “And that . . . was pretty amazing.”

  “Now you see why I came to Paris.” He looked all over her face before he gave her a soft, lingering kiss.

  He shifted to nuzzle the side of her neck while she combed her fingers through his thick black hair. “You can’t expect that to happen every time, you know.”

  “I expect nothing.” Eliot rose from the bed and covered her, shaking his head when she tried to sit up.

  She blinked drowsily at him. “But I want to sleep with you.”

  “You will.” He trailed his fingers along her shoulder, and then gave her an odd look. “I will never leave you, little bird.”

  Since she couldn’t make the same promise, she turned her head and kissed his fingers.

  Eliot walked out only to shut off the lights in the front of the suite before returning and climbing back into bed with her. Wren sighed with pleasure as she cuddled against him, and let the sound of his breathing lull her to sleep.

  Chapter Four

  Sometime in the night Wren woke to the feel of Eliot’s hands gently stroking her little breasts. His erect, hard penis nestled in the cleft of her buttocks, but he seemed to be content with simply touching her.

  She wriggled her bottom a little, and then rolled her shoulders back with a sigh, pushing her hard nipples against his caressing fingers.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Eliot kissed the little curl of her ear before he urged her over onto her back.

  “Yes, you did.” She smiled up at him. “Turn on the light. I want to see you.”

  As he switched on the lamp on the night table Wren pushed back the covers so she could properly ogle his hard, muscular body. She’d never been with such a beautiful man, as precisely proportioned and well-built as the buildings he designed.

  “I’m glad I please you,” he told her. “It seems only fair, since you have given me so much.”

  The way he looked at her made her feel mischievous. “I didn’t give you anything, Tashiro. You bought and paid for me.”

  He arched one dark brow. “You consider me your owner?”

  “My master.” As she corrected him, Wren’s throat tightened. At the same time a strange flush of excitement flooded her breasts. “Tonight you are. What do you want me to do?”

  Eliot took her hand and brought it down to her sex. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone. I want to see how you like best to be stroked.”

  Wren liked how matter-of-fact he was about sex. Without hesitation she parted her folds and touched her clit. “Like this.”

  “Yes. Please, continue. I want to watch.” He shifted over her, settling between her thighs so that his face hovered just above her hand. “You are so lovely here. Like a pretty, fragile butterfly.”

  “I’m not fragile, Tashiro.” The touch of his breath only added to the sensations spreading through her sex. “I can bench press three times my own bodyweight.”

  “I did not mean to imply that you are weak.” Eliot touched his lips to a spot just below her navel. “You are anything but that. But there is a quality about you – something that drives you from lover to lover, as if they are flowers.” He met her gaze. “Am I to be just another rose in your garden, little bird?”

  “You know the answer to that.” She took her hand away. “We should get some sleep.”

  “Not just yet.” He moved her legs, draping them over his shoulders so that his lips caressed the folds of her sex.

  Wren stared up at the ceiling, her emotions snarling into a hot, dark tangle of regret and lust. “Tashiro, I can’t stay with you.”

 
“You can do whatever makes you happy, my lovely one.” Eliot kissed the insides of her thighs. “Only remember how well I can do that.”

  Wren felt his tongue licking slowly along the part of her folds. When he gave her throbbing clit a slow, wet stroke she caught her breath, and looked down to watch him. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. I’m not like other women.”

  He parted her and kissed her nub. “I agree. No woman has ever aroused me to fill her with my seed twice instead of once.” He licked her again. “Do you know that you and I taste delicious when we are blended? Like some exotic nectar.”

  “Stop trying to romance me with pretty words,” she muttered. “I’m not a butterfly, Tashiro. I’m a battering ram disguised as one.”

  “A sheep? Never.” As she chuckled, he nuzzled her sex. She could smell the sexy musk of their mingled scents now. “Ah, this is so good. You must taste us.”

  Eliot moved over her, first rubbing his swollen cockhead against her folds, and then straddling her upper torso. As he pressed the thick, satiny bulb against her lips, she gave him a long, soft lick.

  “Very nice.” She kissed her way along the hard length of him. “But I might need another taste.”

  “Do you want me to take your mouth, Wren?” When she nodded, he rubbed the swollen head of his penis back and forth along the curve of her lips. “I would like that very much, too.”

  He eased into her mouth, and once she had engulfed the heavy cockhead, he went still and stared down at her. “Your lips look so pretty on me.”

  Wren used her tongue to curl around his glans as she sucked lightly on him.

  “Oh, yes.” Eliot began slowly pressing deeper, invading and then withdrawing inch by inch until he was working half his shaft in and out of her mouth. “Tell me if it is too much.”

  Wren released him long enough to say, “It’ll never be enough,” before she enveloped him again.

  “No, I think it will not.” Eliot grunted as she tugged on him urgently. “You are going to make me come again like a school boy. Your mouth is all satin and heat, little bird. It feels like your lovely pussy does when you come on my cock.”

  Wren felt his thighs tense, and stroked them with her hands as he thrust in and out of her mouth, his penis forging deep now. As he swelled even bigger, she dug her fingernails into his strong legs.

  Eliot jerked and muttered something dark. Wren felt his penis pulse as he poured into her. Happily she swallowed every jet he gave her. When he gently withdrew, she uttered a soft, satisfied sigh.

  Eliot lay down beside her, but rather than falling asleep, he reached down to cup her sex. “Once more for me, little bird.” He stroked her with his long fingers, settling the pad of his thumb on her clit. He rubbed her a few times before pressing two fingers into the sensitive ellipse of her opening.

  “I don’t know.” She smiled sleepily at him. “I think I’m too tired, but you can try.”

  “Look at me, little bird,” he murmured. “We are back in Tokyo now, and we are dancing under the stars. I am looking down at you, at your lovely face, and thinking how much I want to kiss you. I’m going to kiss you, Wren.”

  Eliot took her mouth, and the memories and gentle rubbing of his fingers brought her quickly to the edge. Wren looked into Eliot’s gold-shot dark eyes as she felt the sweet, hot delight cresting inside her.

  “Oops. I was wrong,” she murmured, and then arched as the pleasure broke over her, sweeping her off like a dark tide.

  “That’s what I wanted, my lovely one,” he murmured. “Give it all to me. Yes, like that.”

  Eliot stroked her through the orgasm, and then held her close while she rode the tremors of the aftershocks. Wren closed her eyes, feeling more drained and yet more satisfied than she ever had in her life.

  Wren heard him switch off the lamp, and snuggled close as he closed his arms around her. She listened to his deep breathing slow as he fell asleep, and turned her face to the pillow. The tears slipping from her lashes made a dozen damp spots on the pillow cover.

  When finally Eliot slept deeply enough for her to ease from his arms, Wren got up. She watched him as she dressed in silence. The darkness didn’t allow her to see too much of him, which was good. If she saw his handsome, beloved face now she might not be able to do this.

  Wren quietly left the suite with Eliot’s mobile, which she used to report in.

  “I know I’m late,” she told her handler, “but there were complications. I had to dump the sound transmitter when we left the club. Did you get all the boys out?” As she listened she glanced up at Tashiro’s suite. “Mine wasn’t a pervert. He was a do-gooder, trying to rescue me. Listen, I need to get out of Paris—”

  A big hand snatched the mobile from Wren’s grasp and threw it into the bushes. A matching hand seized her by the throat.

  “Not just yet,” the scar-faced Slav told her before he plunged the needle into her neck.

  Chapter Five

  Eliot woke to a half-empty bed and the sound of something pounding heavily. Quickly he pulled on a robe and went to answer the door, through which a huge man dressed like a bum strode in.

  “Wren’s been snatched,” the man told him, his Boston accent as flinty as his tone. “I need your help to get to her. Dress in something dark that won’t show blood.”

  Eliot saw the intelligence in the cold, unmatched eyes, and other signs that the bum look was only a façade. “And you are?”

  “Her handler, T.J.” The man made an impatient gesture. “You want to get moving before this perv does something irreparable?”

  A minute later Eliot emerged dressed and ready to go. “Do you have a car?”

  “I have a tracker. You have a car.” T.J. led him out to the elevator, where he checked the display of a handheld device. “She’s been in the same location for fifteen minutes, so that’s probably ScarFace’s dump.”

  Eliot summoned his driver, and when the car arrived dismissed his man. “How does this happen?” he asked as he climbed in behind the wheel.

  “I can track her because she has a locator implant,” T.J. told him as he peeled the fake scruffy beard from his strong jaw. “And the bastard got to her before I could when she came out of the hotel. Normally I wouldn’t be worried, but he gave her a needle of something.” He glanced at Eliot. “This is your fault, you know.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.” Eliot suppressed an urge to punch the other man in the head as he sped across the city. “Do you have some sort of extraction planned?”

  “I’m going in there and getting her out in one fucking piece,” T.J. told him. “How’s that work for you?”

  Eliot nodded. “I like this plan.”

  Once he parked a block from Wren’s location, Eliot followed T.J. to the back of the rundown building. “You get Wren out,” he told the handler. “Let me deal with the Slav.”

  “You’re not trained for this, Tashiro.” T.J. stopped outside the back entrance, and cleared his throat as he saw Eliot draw his blades from his forearm sheaths. “Okay, I take that back. Try not to kill him. The paperwork’s a bitch.”

  Inside the hall Eliot stepped around a pair of young addicts dozing on the floor and assessed the interior. The first level appeared to be a warren of drug and sex dens, and the only sober person he spotted stood guard at the base of a narrow staircase.

  “That way,” he told T.J., who nodded and strode up to the guard.

  “Excuse us,” the handler said. When the guard uttered something vile, he kneed him, clubbed him over the back of the neck and shoved him aside. “They just don’t make leg breakers the way they used too,” he told Eliot as they trotted up the stairs.

  Everywhere Eliot looked he expected to see Wren. Not finding her made his muscles knot into hard, angry cords. On the second floor their search exposed only more addicts and deviants enjoying their dismal pleasures. He used persuasive grips on arms and throats, but none of them knew anything.

  “Where is she?” Eliot muttered as they ascended t
o the third level.

  “Gotta be here,” T.J. told him as they passed rooms filled with crates and electronics, and one locked door. He stopped in front of it and listened. “Yeah, here.” He kicked the door in.

  A shot pierced the air; blood spurted from T.J.’s shoulder. He staggered before Eliot grabbed him.

  Heart thumping, Eliot dragged the handler out of the way. He moved into position by the door, his fists tight around his drawn blades.

  A pair of bulky arms holding a gun emerged. Eliot knocked the weapon away, swept the thug’s legs, and dumped him to the floor.

  A well-placed kick to the temple knocked him unconscious.

  “Go,” T.J. told him as he tugged out a rag and clamped it over his shoulder wound.

  Eliot glanced into the room, which had been outfitted like a torture chamber. At the other end, Wren dangled nude and unconscious from a chain. Seeing her body bruised and her mouth bleeding woke a dark force inside him. His chest expanded to let the ravenous beast soundlessly bellow in outrage.

  “You.” The Slav appeared behind Wren, and jerked her head back by the hair to hold a blade to her throat. “Why did you come after us? She is worthless. A woman.”

  Eliot smiled. “Come. I can give you more sport. If you take me, you’ll have a man to rape and torture.”

  “I like boys.” The Slav released Wren from the chain, and held her like a body shield. “Get out or I’ll cut her.”

  As Eliot backed out of the room, the Slav advanced. Wren opened her rapidly blackening eyes, and saw Eliot. “Run. Please.”

  “Not happening, sweetheart.” T.J. stepped into the doorway, his blood-streaked hand holding the bunched rag to his wound.

  “I’ll kill her,” the Slav promised.

  “Yeah?” The handler whipped out the bundled rag. The bloody fabric fell from the gun inside it as T.J. pulled the trigger. A small hole appeared in the Slav’s forehead, killing him instantly.

  Eliot quickly moved in to snatch the blade from Wren’s throat and catch her as the Slav collapsed. Quickly he shrugged out of his jacket and covered her with it. “The paperwork?” he asked the handler.