Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8)

by Natasha Thomas

  I groan at the feeling of Aislinn’s fingers traveling over the sensitive skin of my ribs, my cock instantly hardening, thinking he’s going to get in on the action.

  “Are you never not hard?” Aislinn gasps in awe as my erection rubs against the what I know is the tender skin of her ass.

  Not only does my woman love anal, but she also loves being tied up and spanked. Something I took full advantage of last night and again this morning.

  “Can’t help it,” I groan, thrusting my hips upward. “You’re so fucking sexy, and my cock just happens to agree.”

  “Well, while I’m flattered, you need to learn some self-control. It’s considered highly inappropriate to engage in the kinds of sexual acts we do in public,” she smiles brightly, belying her words.

  “And it’s considered bad manners to create a problem and not try to fix it,” I counter, using her hips to grind her weight down on my crotch.

  I won’t get off this way, but I endeavor to have her so turned on by the time I’m finished with her that Aislinn will be begging me to bend her over and fuck her hard. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

  Neglecting her duties to my painfully hard cock, Aislinn asks,

  “So, where were we?”

  Grumbling about blue balls and issuing threats I can’t follow through with such as refusing to eat her out for a week, I say,

  “I believe you’d just agreed to live with me for the two months you’ve got between jobs, make a home with me, then you said you’d marry me a few days before you have to leave, and we’d make wherever it is you’re going our honeymoon destination.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ~ Aislinn ~

  “We should just call you “Whore-a the Explorer.””

  - Aislinn to Meg

  Um, say what now?

  “Dex?” I prompt, all of a sudden feeling short of breath.

  His gorgeous blue eyes bore into mine filled with questions, hope, and a little bit of desperation.

  “You knew this was where I saw us going, baby,” he rasps huskily. “I didn’t make it a secret that I want to marry you and plant my babies in you. Living together comes first, though, and this is the perfect solution. You don’t have anywhere to be for two months, and I’ve got that time to get my shit in order so that I can go with you when you need to get back to work.”

  That makes sense, but what I’m struggling with is Dex thinking it’s a foregone conclusion that I’ll say yes to becoming his wife. I mean, I will – of course, I will, I’d have to be stupid to turn the man who owns the other half of my heart down – but that doesn’t stop me from messing with him.

  “I hate to break it to you, honey, but I don’t believe in marriage,” I say with as much false sincerity as I can. “Out of the one’s I’ve seen and my own dismal attempt they just don’t last. I would prefer to commit to each other without the rings and service, just you and me. Not to mention, think about how much money we’d save not having to pay for a wedding.”

  Lie. Lie. Lie! There’s not a woman alive who would forego a wedding to save money, and if one tells you she would, feel free to call her a fucking liar on my behalf.

  While I’m a firm believer in it’s the marriage that matters most, not the wedding, that doesn’t mean I’m not a sucker for a sensational white dress, flowers, and bling. I so totally am.

  A flicker of uncertainty crosses Dex’s face at my admission, and I can’t help internally giving myself a pat on the back for knocking his cocky ass down a peg or two. I love Dex, I really do, but the man is insufferable when he goes full bossy alpha.

  “I know it’ll be hard for you, baby, and I’m willing to give you more time if I have to, but I want to marry you, not have some bullshit commitment ceremony,” he rumbles, tightening his grip on my hips.

  Nodding seriously, I reply,

  “It will be hard, Dex, really hard. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and if getting married is a deal breaker for you, then I think it’s best if we end this now before either of us gets hurt.”

  Now is probably a good time to recognize that I’m going to get my ass kicked for this, but he deserves it. Dex is well aware I hate being told what to do, and his presumptions fit into the same category. On the plus side; he’ll forgive me. Eventually. And if he doesn’t, I’m not ashamed to use coercion in the form of daily blowjobs to convince him to let it go.

  “Jesus, Aislinn,” he growls, standing up and setting me on my feet away from him. “This isn’t the first time I’m mentioning this, but it is the first time you’re telling me marriage is off the table. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything earlier? Shit!”

  If I were a better woman, I would let him off the hook, but I have my reputation to think of here. If Meg found out I didn’t fuck with him sufficiently before agreeing to his caveman like demands, she would personally revoke my card to the cool kids club.

  “Calm down, Dex,” I say calmly. “Just because I don’t want to get married again doesn’t mean I don’t want to make our relationship a permanent, long-term one. I can still move in with you. We can still make our house a home.”

  “Yeah, and what about kids, Aislinn? My babies aren’t going to be born into a family where their parents aren’t married. And I sure as fuck expect any kids I do have will have my name.”

  Dammit, and I was so close. This is a trigger for Dex. He’s always believed children should only be born into committed, loving homes, both parents married and living under one roof. Not that I disagree because I don’t, but Dex takes it one step further than that. Dex refuses to even consider getting a woman pregnant until his ring is on her finger and she’s taken his last name, which means, unfortunately for me, I have to put him out of his misery.

  “Of course, our kids will have your name, Dex. I will too,” I murmur, smiling at him.

  “What if I gave you more time? Came with you on this job in a couple of months, and asked you again in say, six months?” He asks, apparently having ignored or blocked out my previous statement.

  “I’d say that would be a waste of time.”

  Beginning to pace, Dex’s frustration ratchets up a notch.

  “Fucking hell, Aislinn. Work with me here. Can’t we come to some sort of compromise?”

  “We could, but that would be a waste of time too,” I say, intending to explain but he cuts me off before I get the chance.

  “Then what the fuck do we do? I can’t lose you, Aislinn, I refuse to, but this means something to me. You being my wife, the mother of my children, spending the rest of our lives together means fucking everything.”

  “Yes,” my voice echoes as a single tear tracks down my cheek.

  This man is quite simply the most incredible one I’ve ever met. He has his faults as I have mine, but there’s not one thing about him I don’t love. I love that he steals the blankets in the middle of the night to make me cuddle closer to stay warm. I love his lack of modesty, except for when he opens the door naked to other women I feel the need to choke for seeing what’s mine. I love the way he always treats me so gently, aside from when we’re in bed and he knows it’s safe to let go. And I love how he loves me; completely, without reservation, forever and always.

  Dex’s eyes widen, and his mouth drops open, but that doesn’t stop him from growling,

  “What?”

  “Yes. Yes to everything, Dex. Living together, marriage, kids, I want all of it as long as it’s with you,” I finally confess.

  Shock is replaced with primal hunger as Dex stalks toward me. Picking me up he throws me onto the bed and comes down over top of me covering my much smaller frame with all of his.

  “You can’t take it back, baby. And to prove it, I’ve got half a mind to tie your ass up and take you down to the courthouse just as soon as we’re finished celebrating.”

  I shrug, countering with,

  “Works for me. I don’t need a big ceremony, Dex. All I need is you.”

  Kissing me soundly, he only pulls back once my hand
s are threaded through his hair, my legs are locked around his hips, I’m panting, and my panties are thoroughly drenched.

  “Fuck that,” he groans. “You’re not getting out of me seeing you in a big, white dress, heels, carrying flowers as you walk down the aisle to me. I’ve dreamed about marrying you for so long, I’m not settling for some bullshit quickie service.”

  “But I like quickies,” I pout playfully.

  Dex’s hand reaches between us, and before I can blink, he’s managed to rid himself and me of our jeans, and torn my panties off. Yanking my shirt and bra over my head, Dex fastens his lips around one of my nipples and pulls it deep into the recesses of his hot, wickedly talented mouth.

  Not willing to wait any longer to feel his hard, thick cock inside me, I guide his erection to my core, rubbing the head up and down the lips of my soaking wet pussy.

  “Let me in before I come all over your pussy, baby. I’m fucking close,” Dex rumbles, biting down on my nipple and pinching the other, twisting hard enough to cause the sting of pain I’ve been known to beg for with him.

  I’m not into pain for the sake of pain during sex, nor do I need it to get off. What I crave is Dex’s form of domination. He plays my body like a well-tuned instrument, always finding new ways to make it sing.

  Removing my hand from the base of his cock, the head notched inside my entrance, Dex slams his hips forward, burying himself inside me to the root.

  “Oh, fuck,” I moan as he starts the slow grind and glide rhythm I love to hate.

  “You want it harder and faster?” He goads in a tone that tells me he wants something from me first.

  “Yes,” I hiss, cursing him at the same time as loving what he’s doing to me.

  For half a dozen strokes, Dex rams into me brutally, moving both our bodies up the bed until my neck is at an odd angle hard up against the headboard, but the bastard stops right before I’m about to come.

  Pulling out so that only the broad head of his cock and several inches are still inside me sensuously caressing the front wall of my pussy, Dex’s fingers find the sensitive flesh beside my clit, and he begins to stroke, purposefully avoiding where I need him most.

  “Please, Dex,” I whimper desperately.

  Making a V with his middle and forefinger, he rubs my clit between them, grinning at me wickedly.

  “It’s simple, baby. You want me to make you come, and I want you to marry me.”

  I shudder, feeling the renewed stirrings of my orgasm.

  “I already said yes, honey.”

  “On Saturday, Aislinn. This Saturday. The one four days from now,” he smirks as he feels the rush of fluid coat the head of his cock.

  I won’t deny it; just the thought of becoming Mrs. Dexter Peters turns me on. But four days? How the hell am I supposed to plan a wedding in four days?

  As if he can read my thoughts, Dex states,

  “You’ve got Meg, and Beth, Avery, Blaine, and Bella will be all in to help with that shit. No doubt Emily will want to cater the whole thing, and your dad can be back here in two hours to give you away if that’s something you want. Me and the boys will set everything up out the back, and Boss knows the local preacher who’ll be happy to come out and perform the service. All you’ve got to do is say yes, go get a dress, some of the sexy shit you wear under your clothes every day that drives me fucking crazy, and show up when the time comes.”

  To punctuate his statement, Dex thrusts forward again, rotating his hips a few times until I’m about to go blind with pleasure. The manipulative bastard.

  “I should say no, you know. Sexual coercion is playing dirty, Dex.”

  “And I don’t give a fuck. I’m playing to win, baby. If that means I’ve got to fight dirty but get you out of the deal, then so be it.”

  Naw, he says the sweetest things. Not! He’s just lucky I love him so much, or I’d kick his ass right about now. In fact, I might still kick his ass, just after he does his duty and makes me come so hard I see stars.

  Arching my body up so that my mouth can meet the skin of his throat right below his Adams Apple – one of his erogenous zone or so I quickly figured out – I sink my teeth into his flesh and wait for the resounding groan that always follows. And I’m not disappointed.

  A ragged groan escapes him, making me smile but not enough to release him.

  “You better not fuck this up, buddy. I’m trusting you to make sure I don’t need to search for husband number three.”

  “Never. Going. To. Happen,” he says, slamming his huge cock inside me savagely between each sneered word. “You’re mine, forever and always, and I pity any motherfucker who tries to come between us because he’s a dead man before he can so much as breathe the same air as you.”

  “Fuck me, Dex. Show me what I’m getting for the rest of my life,” I moan.

  Dex doesn’t hesitate, he starts fucking me relentlessly just as I asked him to. Hard, deep, yet measured strokes build climaxes quickly for both of us. I shouldn’t be surprised, not once has it taken me longer than five minutes to come when he’s buried inside me, but without fail, it takes my breath away, blindsiding me with pleasure no one else has the capacity to give me. Only Dex. Always Dex.

  On the verge of the biggest, most powerful orgasm of my life, Dex stills.

  “Promise me,” he rasps. “You’ve never broken a promise to me, so I know if you do, there’s no doubt I’ll see you at the altar. Promise me you’ll marry me this Saturday and make me happier than I have the right to be.”

  Not able to deny him anything he asks, I immediately whisper,

  “I promise, honey. I promise.”

  *****

  I wish I could tell you that the next four days went without incident, but I can’t. It wasn’t normal wedding planning catastrophes, best friend slash maid of honor tantrums, threats from father to soon-to-be-husbands, or the logistical nightmare of an MC hosting a wedding that darkened what should have been the happiest time of our lives either.

  No, our problems came two-fold, and they were far from simple to solve. One came in the form of information which led to the discovery of Diesel’s murderer, and the other in the form of a woman. A woman no one expected capable of the things she did and the callous, vicious way she did them.

  Retrospectively, I should have seen it coming. There were signs, lots of them, I was just too busy basking in the glow of marrying to one and only man I’ve ever loved.

  I disregarded the warnings. I brushed aside the niggling feeling something bad was just around the corner. And I turned a blind eye to the strange things that began happening within a couple of hours of Dex and I announcing our engagement. That was a mistake. A mistake I hope no one has to pay too dearly for.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ~ Gage ~

  “When your woman asks for your opinion what she really wants to hear is her own opinion in a deeper voice.”

  - A fact of life

  “I said fucking green, dickhead. Not blue. Not pink. Not fucking yellow. Green. How hard is it to find green goddamn table cloths?” I snarl, pissed off at him, but also for caring in the first place.

  These are table cloths we’re talking about, not exactly a solution to world hunger, so who the hell cares? Me, that’s who. I want the day to be perfect for Aislinn, and in no small part for me too. I’m getting married once, and once only to the woman I’m crazy in love with, so the fact that things are already not going to plan is driving me insane.

  “Fuck you, asshole,” Cash bites back. “It wasn’t my dumbass idea to get married in four days, and I’m not the fucking idiot who’s complaining about shit that doesn’t matter. She’s agreed to marry you, Gage. Aislinn’s not going to take off and leave you high and dry, holding your balls at the altar, so calm the fuck down.”

  That hits a nerve. A raw, painful one at that.

  “I know that alright. Rationally, I know she’ll be there, but part of me wonders if she’ll wise up and realize I don’t deserve her before it’s too l
ate,” I admit my deepest fear.

  Cash assesses me with a look that’s a mix between you’re-a-fucking-moron and I-feel-for-you-brother. Lucky for him, he decides on the latter instead of the former.

  “Brother, that woman loves the hell out you. Shit, Aislinn adores you. Shy of physically being able to walk down the aisle, and even if that were the case she’d find a way to get there, nothing will keep her from strapping a ball and chain around your balls come Saturday.”

  “Yeah, well, I hope you’re right, man because I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re wrong,” I mutter, picking up the picture of the cake Aislinn wants Angie, Jonas’ mom to make, and folding it small enough to fit in my back pocket.

  “We’ve got bigger things to worry about, like you turning into a pussy whipped bastard already,” he grins.