My lover sat me down on the bed and I lay back as he grabbed my lace hipsters and slid them down my legs before spreading my thighs wide apart. His kisses started on my stomach, leading up towards my breasts. I tried to breathe but just looking at his lips, inching my lace bra down before he licked my pebbled nipples drove me crazy. One of my areolas disappeared into his mouth as he tweaked my other nipple with his fingers, his teeth biting down on my other nipple.
I lifted myself off the bed just enough for Trey to shed the lace bra from my body before his talented mouth captured my other nipple and played with the one his mouth abandoned with his fingers. I moaned loudly and couldn’t believe how much he knew my body, how easy it was for him to stroke me in all the right places.
Trey’s kisses led down past my ribcage, his tongue sensually licking my skin. He bit the flesh on my stomach, and I laughed before his tongue snaked into my belly button. I shivered as his fingers parted my sex, his mouth suckling on my clit before he licked the nub over and over again.
“Oh, God.” I threw my head back and arched my back as two of his fingers plunged deeply inside of me.
The rough padding of his fingers were soon coated with my juices as he moved in and out of me, caressing my G-spot every time his fingers hit the hilt inside of me.
“You like that, babe? I’m gonna make you come so fuckin’ hard,” Trey whispered before sucking on my clit in between vigorous licks that brought me closer to a monstrous orgasm.
My legs started twitching violently as I caressed my own breasts; I breathed in deeply through my nose while the breaths exiting my mouth were shallow and filled with loud moans of desire. My hips began to buck on their own accord, my orgasm so close, yet so far away, as he teased me with his mouth, tongue, and fingers.
Trey slammed a finger into my asshole and that did the trick. What started off as something slow, steady and building, all came crashing down around me as I came apart in a glorious, delirious feeling of pleasure and absolute desire. His tongue continued to lick my clit and the sensitivity drove me crazy, drawing out an orgasm I thought would never end.
He stood and left the room shortly while I tried to catch my breath and waited for the intensity of what had just transpired between us to slowly ebb away. I’d never felt so alive or like my body consisted of nothing but short-circuited nerve endings ready to explode once again.
My eyes slowly opened as I watched him walk into the bedroom, completely nude, his cock hard, veined, and ready to lay claim yet again to something—someone—that was already his. Men had come and gone in my life but truly, I’d always belonged to Trey. I could deny it and justify it a million different ways but he was the only man for me; I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Trey crawled on the bed; the solid weight of his body dipping the pillow top mattress ever so slightly as he crawled toward me. His face, inches away from mine, looked serious yet his eyes were filled with lust, want, need, and an aching desire for us both to be satisfied.
“I wanna fuck you now but I had to get cleaned up first. You gonna let me own that pussy, Kyra? When it’s mine, it belongs only to me and no other man will touch you again—not unless he wants to go to ground.” He leaned over and kissed my lips softly, pulling away quickly.
I nodded my head. “I’ve always been yours to own and have, baby. There’s no one else I want and I swear to you, here and now, I won’t ever betray what we have. If my pussy is yours then no other skanks will come before me. That means no cheating because I won’t stand for it. I’d cut a bitch and she’d end up looking like Frankenstein when I got done with her. Then I’d do a real ‘John Wayne Bobbitt’ number on you too.”
He laughed, low and throaty. “I don’t want you to be any other way, babe. And you’re my bitch now. I don’t say that as a sign of disrespect ’cause, first and foremost, you’re my queen, my old lady. The woman I adore but you’re also my bottom bitch, darlin’. I ain’t no pimp but you know what that means all the same. No other man will touch you and I’ll lay down my motherfuckin’ life for ya ’cause you’ve always been worth it.”
Trey paused as he situated himself between my legs, his cock firmly in hand as he leaned on one elbow to keep his weight from falling on top of me. “Don’t care if your brother and father give me an ass-whoopin’ for the rest of my life. They can beat me down, crack some ribs, puncture a lung—ain’t no one keepin’ me from my lady and that’s you, baby. Shit…fuck, it’s always been you and I was too caught up with bein’ selfish to see that. Wasted too many years—you and me. But life ain’t about regrets. Time to stop dyin’ and gotta start livin’ again. No one else I wanna do that with but you.”
My hands cupped his cheeks as a lone tear slid down the side of my face. I wanted to respond but as he entered me slowly, stretching me, opening me wide for his thickness and length, the words caught in my throat.
I mewled instead as his cock hit the hilt of my aching sex; balls deep within me while I flexed my muscles around him like a vice. He pulled back and thrust inside me again with a strength I wasn’t expecting and I gasped. “Gonna own every inch of you, Kyra,” he whispered into my ear as he began to move in me, my pussy wet and ready for him as he sped up his thrusts.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on tight, my hands clutching his shoulders as we looked into one another’s eyes. He wasn’t fucking me, although it was rough sometimes, only for him to slow down the tempo. I responded with bringing my hips up to meet his as he plunged in and out of me like a well-oiled piston.
There were no words to describe the pleasure I felt. My womb ached; wanting more and more of what he dispensed with absolute love and selflessness while my muscles quaked around his length. Below the waist, my body had a mind of its own. I couldn’t wait to reach the sheer feeling of togetherness between the two of us, yet I wanted more. It would never be enough, no matter how many times Trey fucked me.
When the sheer intensity radiating from his eyes became too much, I kissed him, our lips pressing together as we slowly explored one another’s mouths with our tongues. We suckled lips, crushed ourselves against each other so violently, we’d both be sore long after that night, but it didn’t matter.
Our lovemaking was beyond anything I’d ever experienced and I never wanted it to end. Not even when he flipped me over and allowed me to ride him, grinding my hips down against his hard shaft, sliding him in and out of my body at my leisure.
Trey grabbed my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he slammed into me again and again until I couldn’t see anything but beautiful, vibrant stars and my whole world exploded from the inside out. My orgasm poured over me in waves, ebbs and flows I couldn’t stop even if I’d wanted to. My breathing hitched, I gasped against his mouth, which was open from the sheer force of our bodies responding. It overwhelmed us both in a violent and thoroughly gratifying emotional bond of altruistic purpose; the sentiments could not be expressed in words, but physically. Our bodies, covered in sweat, eventually separated and we laid side-by-side in comfortable silence. He stood and strode to the bathroom before returning with a warm, damp washcloth that he used to clean me up. After tossing it on the floor, he lay down on the bed beside me and turned me over onto my side so he could spoon me.
My feelings were all over the place but I did know for certain Trey was the one. I didn’t want to share this kind of intimacy with anyone other than the man who currently occupied the bed. The thought made me smile and my heart lit up with joy.
I’d found my place in life and, right or wrong, it was by his side.
Chapter Seven
Trey
Trey knew the overwhelming thoughts and implications of what it meant to have Kyra in his arms should have given him room for reflection. Fortunately, he didn’t have to think too hard because, instinctively, he understood what he wanted already belonged to him.
Soon, they’d have to shower, pack, and get ready to leave for their trip to Glendale. For the time being, he wanted nothing
more than to enjoy the peace and quiet with this remarkable and amazing woman. She still surprised him in so many different ways. Mostly because as he thought he truly knew her, she had a keen sense of reminding him he still had so much to learn.
“What time is it?” she murmured like a sated kitten that had her fill of cream and still wanted more.
“Almost time for us to pack the fuck up and leave.” He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. The silky, strands of fire smelled like her: fresh, bold, and alive.
“Everything is going to be fine, honey.” Kyra turned toward him though he only glimpsed her profile. “I won’t question your business and I promise to be on my best behavior. I don’t know why I said anything earlier. I didn’t mean to put you at odds with Cillian or the club—it wasn’t my place.”
He intertwined his fingers with hers and squeezed gently. “It doesn’t matter. If you were a run-of-the-mill old lady, that shit you pulled today coulda gotten you backhanded but you’re our attorney, darlin’. You’re allowed to be mouthy and have an opinion, even when we don’t ask for it. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He paused and breathed loudly. “To be honest, I’m ready to put this whole miserable mess behind us. I just want to go to L.A. and get this shit over and done with, once and for all.”
She didn’t say anything in return but, grateful for her silence, they laid together until the inevitable came. Slowly, they stood, took a quick shower with each other before dressing in comfortable clothing. He packed an overnight bag and they both left shortly afterward. First, they stopped by Kyra’s condo in Lake Tahoe where she packed clothes in a weekend bag for the trip. Then, they drove straight to the clubhouse in her Range Rover.
Once they arrived, there was a short meeting with the guys. The weather was too bad to ride their bikes. A snowstorm was predicted for that night; the sky was an ominous icy gray-white, the first flakes already starting to blanket the ground. The guys would be better off taking vehicles that could handle the weather. They had Gisela and Kyra to think about after all, and it wasn’t safe any other way.
The brothers agreed to the new plan and suited up to take SUVs and trucks down to Southern California instead.
Cillian, Gisela, and Kink rode together in his Ford F-150 Raptor.
Meanwhile Cricket, Bookie, and Quinn rode together in Cricket’s black Chevy Avalanche.
Trey drove his Escalade. They hadn’t expected the additional alone time, where they could talk, but it was much appreciated.
Hardy and Ronan had already assured them they would have bikes available for all of them once they reached L.A. so it worked out perfectly.
It was several hours later, after they’d been on the road for a while, Trey stole a glance of Kyra. Her face, the color of pale pink roses and the creamiest of alabaster, looked relaxed as she slept comfortably in the passenger seat. He grabbed her hand nearest to him and kissed it softly.
She would always be his angel, regardless what happened.
Trey and the guys arrived at the Glendale chapter of the Saints in the early hours of the morning. Although Hardy had been shacking up in Trey’s sister and brother-in-law’s guesthouse, he and Ronan were both there to meet them as they pulled up to the gated compound.
The Glendale location was impressive but not nearly as big or extravagant as the compound in Birch Tree.
“What’s goin’ on, my brothers?” Ronan announced with a rare smile on his face as quick embraces were dispensed between the guys.
“Nothin’ much.” Cillian patted him on the back. “Listen, we need to get the ladies settled in first and then I want us all in chapel. This is serious and everyone needs to be brought up to speed now.”
“Don’t get yer knickers in a twist, nephew.” Hardy smiled, cocky as ever with a masculine face women seemed to fall over, crystal blue eyes, and a killer accent that bordered on both Cockney and Northern Irish. “I’ll take care of it.”
Cillian smirked in response. “I’m sure you will.”
Trey strode closer to Cillian though he waited until everyone else was out of hearing distance. “What do we plan to tell them?”
“Not everything, but enough,” he replied after he lit a cigarette. “I wanna give them an option. We can always walk away—fuck what my dad says. Yeah, I respect him but I just got out of prison charges - there ain’t no way in hell I’d put myself through that again.”
Trey nodded his head. “Understood. I’m gonna go outside and stretch my legs. See you at the meeting.”
“You do that. Looks like you could use some alone time now you’re with Kyra. Nothin’ is gonna fall apart while you’re gone.”
Trey shook his head, not bothering to reply to the “Kyra” comment as he watched Cillian walk down the hallway. A part of him wanted to check on her but he didn’t want to push it. They were moving fast though neither of them had bothered to inform her father what was happening.
He strode out of the club and directly toward a picnic area within the compound. There were tables and long benches, ashtrays and a sound system set up. Most of the guys had either gone to bed or were off the premises though Kink and Cricket sat outside, enjoying early morning beers while smoking cigarettes.
Trey walked over and sat near them as he shook a Camel loose from his pack and lit it. “What’s goin’ on, boys?”
Cricket shrugged. “I don’t know—you tell me, brother.”
Trey looked from Kink to Cricket and back again. “I’m gonna pretend you’re not sittin’ there, coppin’ major attitude about somethin’ that shouldn’t even be an issue. You dumped her—remember? For someone who ended up with the woman you’ve wanted this whole time, why the fuck do you have your ass on your shoulders? Since when do you care what pussy I’m shovin’ my cock into?”
“I don’t, but when that bitch—who happens to be the daughter of the Bastards’ Prez—starts goin’ through brothers who don’t belong to her club, I think we should all be a little concerned, don’t you? How do we know she can be trusted?” Cricket stubbed out his cigarette before crossing his arms defensively. “She’s the club attorney, you fuckin’ momo. You know how much trouble she could get into if she ever breathed a word of what’s goin’ down to her dad?” Trey exclaimed in anger.
“Fuck that, bro. I’m tryin’ to be realistic here and somethin’ tells me we can’t trust her—”
“Did you do your share of pillow talk?” Kink interrupted facetiously. “In all seriousness, Trey’s right. Yeah, she’s gone through a couple brothers but I highly doubt Kyra’s goin’ back to Jonesy tellin’ him all she knows. That wouldn’t only be bad for the Bastards but it could get her gone fuckin’ fast. What makes you think the club is too good to put down women who talk too much?”
“Ha-motherfuckin’-ha. You two pretend like that bitch don’t have us by the balls but I’m tellin’ you—I trust Gisela. She’s proven herself and would lay down her life for us but Kyra…I don’t trust that cunt as far as I can throw her.”
“Call her a bitch or cunt again and I will beat the shit outta you.” Trey’s voice resonated pure ice as his eyes narrowed. “Listen here, I don’t ask much from you but I demand you respect my woman. Yeah, you’ve fucked her and that’s life. I don’t hold anything against you for goin’ there but if you ever talk about my old lady like she’s a fuckin’ club slapper, I will fuckin’ cut you.”
“All right, lads, break it up! Come on, it’s time for chapel,” Hardy interrupted rudely.
Trey looked away from Cricket’s cold blue eyes, focusing instead on Hardy and Ronan who both stood near the clubhouse entrance.
Kink and Cricket stood and walked several feet behind him as he strode past the chapter Prez and VP into the clubhouse. Ronan slapped Cricket’s back and spoke to him in hushed tones; the two had grown up in the club together and were best friends.
The Glendale chapel was similar to the Birch Tree chapel except it was smaller and much more intimate. Trey sat down next to Cillian and shortly after h
e took his seat, Kink, Cricket, Bookie, Quinn, Hardy and Ronan joined them. All eight men looked cool, calm, and collected but Trey’s stomach had him tied up in knots.
He knew what was going to happen but that didn’t stop him from feeling a great deal of betrayal towards his brothers. He could paint the situation any way he liked but when push came to shove, his parents had betrayed the club. They’d escaped their fate by taking an out of the situation, staged by the Feds they worked for; now, his mother wanted to have to face-to-face meet with him.
If she expected him to betray his club, she had another think coming. No way would he turn his back on the men he’d fight beside and die for if necessary. Witsec wasn’t an option for him; he’d never be able to survive anyway. No matter what happened, he would rather face prison time than ever be a rat.
Hardy spoke with his usual friendly banter, switching between Cockney speak and American slang with ease. That was his hidden strength and everyone knew it. The man seemed extremely laid back and jovial, but most of his enemies didn’t realize he’d slit their throat until the knife had done its damage. The man was a natural born predator just like his oldest brother, Dizzy, but instead of coming to someone with cold, dead eyes, his easy jokes and ready smile threw his adversaries off.
Hardy’s easy smile was on display now. “As I was sayin’, Carlito wanted to meet in a titty club but I told ’em that was too obvious. Instead, we’re gonna be meetin’ him at one of the clubs he owns in Century City. The meet takes place tonight and bring your women—they make damn good covers.”
“Is this one of those Latin places?” Kink wondered before he lit a cigarette.
Ronan shook his head. “In Century City? Are you high? No, it’s not far from where The Century Club used to be. Some happenin’ place that’s considered a hot spot for the young, famous, and stupid. Bright Lights, Neon Lights—some shit like that.”
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