Never Have an Outlaw's Baby: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

by Snow, Nicole

  He couldn't hide the raging hard-on against my thigh. Didn't think he wanted to. I looked down knowingly, a little smile curling my cheeks.

  Okay, I was definitely feeling better than I thought, even with all this jet lag. Muscles clenched inside me, already drunk on his sultry touch. He reached for my thighs and squeezed, making me jerk on his lap, perfect for feeling the stiff rock beneath his trousers.

  “Oh!” I whimpered. He silenced me with a long, deep kiss before I could say anything else.

  “Quiet, babe, unless you want the crew to hear,” he whispered, making me blush. “Honestly, I don't give a shit. It's about damned time we picked up where we left off. I know how much you like to fuck underneath the stars.”

  “Anton!” I was about to protest, but he reached up and pinched my nipple beneath my blouse.

  Damn it. Just how thick were the walls on this plane anyway? The thing was airborne, so it couldn't be like a well built house. If I panted and moaned and came a little closer to screaming wrapped around him, I knew we ran the risk of the four man crew near the cockpit hearing everything.

  He really didn't care. He flipped me over, meshing my legs around his waist. His friction hit my clit through our clothes, and I couldn't do anything but melt while he popped the buttons on my blouse.

  “Keep making that beautiful music, Sabrina. You fight me, I'll rip your panties off and stuff them in your sweet mouth. We're fucking right now regardless, and I don't give a shit if you're gagged or howling like crazy when I'm emptying myself in your cunt.”

  He rubbed harder, faster. Jesus. I loved him, wanted him, and he was still a total bastard.

  Naturally, I fucking loved it.

  He did me a favor by clapping his hand over my mouth while he worked off my pants. A little turbulence jostled us when he slid down my panties, swinging them around my ankles like a pro. I watched them crumple in one hand.

  “Fuck. You soaked every last inch of these bitches. You think you can keep it together without going to pieces on me, or am I gonna have to show you how good this pussy tastes?”

  Growling, he pushed the gusset across his teeth, tasting my cream. My thighs started to shake. His free hand went between my legs and two rough fingers pushed inside me. He began fucking me before his cock ever came out, softening me up for him, adding to the napalm that drenched the lace in his fist.

  “God damn it,” he grunted, throwing them over his shoulder. “I can't kiss you and taste the real thing at the same time. Hold it together and don't cry on me girl. I'm gonna make you come so fucking hard you're never ashamed of anything again. The only whining I wanna hear is that little chirp you make right before your clit goes nuts on my tongue.”

  There I was. Lost at fifteen, maybe twenty thousand feet. He held my legs open, a powerful and unbreakable grip, ramming his face between my legs. Rough stubble braised my thighs. I arched my back when his tongue found the wet spot.

  Jesus. Fuck.

  I took every part of the heaven's name in vain, and then did it a few times more when his fingers clenched my ass cheeks, spreading me apart, wide and open just for him.

  He dove in, fucking me with his tongue, licking and sucking until I pumped my hips back. Furious laps circled my clit. He did that thing where he sucked it between his teeth and growled, vibrating my entire pussy with his thunder, smothering me in total pleasure. The beast between my thighs wouldn't be satisfied until I gave it all up.

  Fortunately for him, it wouldn't take long. My vision blurred and my head rolled to the side. I saw early evening stars shining out the window just as his tongue engulfed me.

  It was like the whole plane exploded from a meteor strike, leaving us tumbling through the night sky. I let go, tearing at his hair for something to hold onto, screaming and coming so hard I forgot all about the crew.

  They must've heard everything. It was filthy, shameful, and – like everything else with this man – absolutely mind blowing. His mouth sucked and licked and fucked my pussy in endless waves. Each movement lashed me higher, until I must've left the atmosphere for a few glorious seconds and slammed back into my body.

  When I came out of it, he had me in his arms, jerking me against his shirtless body. “Fucking shit. You scream like that again, babe, and the pilots are gonna wreck this plane from jacking off, the jealous fucks.”

  I laughed. He took me by the hand and walked me over to the bed, completely buck naked. When we reached the edge, he tapped his knees on mine, pushed me down, tearing at his belt and dropping everything below the waist.

  “Spread your legs. I need to be inside you, Sabrina. Right fucking now.”

  I obeyed. The firebird on his chest looked hungrier than before, ready to swoop down and fly through me while his thrusts rattled my body. I didn't need to touch its fiery wings to burn.

  Anything but drawing him deep was unthinkable. I heard voices behind the thin door separating our cabin from the rest of the plane. Two stewardesses laughed, and then there was a manly, guttural chuckle with them.

  Crap. The whole crew was enjoying our performance.

  I locked up. Anton saw me struggling to wrap my head around fucking where these people could hear us. His face darkened, and the foreplay was over. He pushed his dick inside me in one rough thrust.

  My pussy instantly clenched around him, obliterating any hesitation. That stud in his cock glided over places I couldn't even describe, massaging me from the inside out, making my pulse match the delicious throb in my pussy.

  Perfection. I'd forgotten how incredibly well we fit together. His thrusts reminded me how good our rhythm could be when he started to get into it, rocking the little bed with his thrusts.

  He was a mountain, a tidal wave, and hot lava all in one. My clit sizzled each time he swept low, cursing and whispering in my ear, nipping at my throat.

  We fucked. Hard. We fucked and rocked and sweated out the last few drops of bitterness and betrayal we'd left behind in the States. Anton sped up, seized my hair in his fist, and pulled until my lips crashed against his.

  I was coming when he pushed his tongue into my mouth, suffocating in him, and loving it.

  Everything below my waist turned to tingly mush, pure hot pleasure racing to my brain. I tried to scream and gasp for breath, but he held me down, fucking me and swallowing every scream in his kisses.

  “Oh, fuck. God!” I screamed when he finally let me up, never skipping a beat with his hips.

  I wasn't sure how the plane wasn't crashing to the ground with his furious jerks. He pulled out, turned me around with a quick slap on the ass, and mounted me from behind, taking the reigns he'd formed out of my hair again.

  “Not God, babe. It's me. You fucking scream my name when I make you squirt all over the sheets. I'm not holding your mouth shut this time. Let it go. Let it all fucking go.”

  He didn't suffocate me with another kiss, no, but he held me down even rougher. Every thrust battered me to the bed, a challenge posed in his hips. My body was ready to meet him. Primal instinct kicked in and I bucked back, grinding my ass as hard as I could on his pubic bone.

  Big mistake. The friction only fed the manic fire he'd sparked in my pussy. Before I knew it, I was clenching my burning jaw and burying my face in the mattress, all I could do to stop myself from shrieking bloody murder before my body fried itself again.

  Oh, no.

  “Oh, fuck!” Anton pulled me up on his cock, whipped my head to the side by the hair, and sank his teeth into the soft nook where my shoulder and neck met.

  He was growling when he started to come. I could practically feel his heartbeat each time his dick jerked, heaving his molten essence into me, so much seed my pussy numbed and overflowed. I tore at the sheets, screamed without thinking, lived and died in his amazing grasp.

  We came for an eternity, rocking and snarling, draining every molecule of air from our lungs. His teeth didn't even start to hurt until I was coming off the high.

  At last, he let go, lingering inside me f
or a good minute before he pulled out. The plane's engine droned on, sweet white noise grounding us on planet earth.

  “Mister Ivankov? Is everything all right?” A fist knocked on the door ahead of the woman's voice.

  “Bring us a couple glasses!” Anton shouted back. “Straight vodka. We're fine.”

  “God.” I rolled over, and he pulled me to his chest, dragging me through several large wet spots on the bed. “I could really use a drink.”

  “We gotta get some water into you too, babe,” he said, pointing to the wetness spattering the bed. “See what you fucking did? You've got about a minute to get into the sheets before she comes in and sees you buck naked.”

  He stood up, walked to the door nude, and left me to struggle into the bed. My mouth was still hanging open in disbelief when he returned with two crystal glasses of good vodka and an ice shaker.

  “You're an animal,” I said, hating the smile that killed all the mock venom in my voice.

  He shrugged, handing me my drink. “You're an Ivankov woman now. I like my girls to give me everything and hold nothing back. Fucking nothing, Sabrina. You know it. I love this shit because it's the best damned trade in the world – everything love should be. We know the drill. I'll keep giving you the world, and you keep squirting all over this dick when I fuck your brains out.”

  “Really?” I quirked an eyebrow, feeling smooth vodka splash my belly like fire. “Is that all it takes to be an Ivankov's woman?”

  “Yeah,” he growled, pulling up the sheet and slipping into bed next to me. “That and keeping up with me.”

  He was hard, and ready to take me again. Unbelievable.

  We fucked the entire trip across the Atlantic, all the way to European airspace. I'd never been happier. Little did I know there was so much more to come. This was a baptism of lust above the seas. By the time we landed in Moscow, I was purified. I'd had my final reckoning, and now it was time to enjoy my reward for the rest of our days.

  It didn't take us long to prep. By the time the plane landed, we were cleaned up, dressed, and ready to face whatever new craziness was waiting for us in this distant land.

  10

  Home Sweet Home (Anton)

  Russia was a whole different world. It took some serious wrangling to get this place in the country outside Moscow. My old man's rich cousins looked at me like I was a god, freshly arrived from the new world after leading our name to greatness.

  Good thing respect is a powerful thing. The servants spoke with such thick accents it took my ears a couple weeks to get used to it. Shit, those real Russians know how to cook and party too. We spent our first week in the motherland blasted on our asses from vodka and overstuffed with caviar.

  Sabrina took to the strange new world better than me. She was reborn, glowing around our manor like a second sun. Long rides on horseback and countless hours fucking through the night didn't exhaust her. She was up the next day with the breakfast tray from our butler, ready for more discoveries.

  I thought she was beautiful before. Hell, I always thought that since the first time I saw her between the glass, taunting me, a ticket to butcher the asshole who'd done my kin so many wrongs. Never would've guessed she'd be my ticket to paradise too.

  The girl spent most days pecking away at her new laptop. She was writing a whole fucking book, a tell all saga blowing open the rise and fall of crime boss Gioulio Ligiotti. The FBI could eat their bastard hearts out while the public snapped it up, unable to touch her while relations were frosty between Mother Russia and the States.

  As it was, the Feds were fucked. Gioulio got dumped underneath a ton of concrete at an old construction site, closer to hell where he belonged. After a couple weeks of questions and agents roaming through every nook and cranny, the heat was off my brothers. We hadn't left a shred of evidence, and soon the boys were gonna get back to expanding business in the big city.

  Me? It was a fucking relief to be away from all that.

  I took up archery and plotted my next move. Maybe a legit import-export business between Moscow and the EU. If all went well, I'd have shit set up by the time relations started to thaw between East and West. We still had all the money in the world.

  Swiss banks. Gotta love 'em. For everything else, there was bribery, which was even easier over here than back home.

  It only took me a few weeks to lock down our little world. Like a good Muscovite Prince, I could ride right into town with my girl at my side, a whole army ready to serve us at every disco, bar, and art gallery as soon as I flashed my name.

  The business moves would come later. There was just one more move I had to make, something to seal the crazy fucking deal Sabrina and me forged from the moment I pulled her outta the prison and into my brothers' truck.

  She was writing when I came home that day.

  “Save your shit and close that thing. We need to leave now.”

  She spun around as soon as my hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed. The look on my face told her she was in deep shit. It was hard keeping my voice grave as ice – I wanted to fucking laugh when I stared into her frightened eyes.

  “Anton? Are we in trouble.”

  “You'll find out soon, babe. Come on.”

  I grabbed her by the hand, threw her coat on, and we marched out into the winter stillness. The old Russian man I'd hired to play driver rolled up in our limo after five seconds. She relaxed a bit when she saw the car. My girl was smart enough to know we wouldn't be going out in style if we really had to flee.

  Still, I kept my cards close, tight to my chest as my own ink. Inside, perched on the leather seats, I handed her a glass of wine. I wanted her warmed up and relaxed for what was coming.

  Shit, I needed a tall glass myself. For the first time in forever, I was nervous, and I stood a better chance of tripping all over my damned words sober.

  “We're here, sir,” the Russian driver called over the little speaker, about five minutes later.

  Sabrina was eyeing me with curiosity and suspicion. I suppressed a smile. She had every fucking right. Ever since we'd landed, I kept trying to one up myself, make every surprise I had for her more special than the last.

  “Anton? What is this place?” She must've asked the same question three times after we got out and I guided her onto the path to the old church.

  The place was in ruins when I'd found it one day riding by myself. I knew there were ruins on my property, but I didn't think it was a whole honest-to-God church. The Bolshevik fucks had done a number on it almost a century ago.

  It took a jumbo sized team to get the job done. Two months of round the clock work to put a new roof on and renovate the place. It cost a couple million, about twice as much as the heavy ring weighing down my pocket. But it was worth every fucking penny. I saw it on her face when the huge doors swung open and we stepped inside.

  She knew. Same thing I knew the first time I saw it laying in pieces.

  This was the place where we were gonna get married.

  It looked like a living museum, all fancy with fresh wooden pews and glassy eyed saints staring down from the walls. The villagers fell to my feet and showered me in thanks for making it whole. It was a fine place to pray or worship, yeah, but that wasn't what I was after.

  This was all about us. Her steps slowed as I led her to the altar. She oohed and ahhed a few times going down the aisle. I almost joined her. Those big glass windows really did something awesome to the light, turning dull winter rays into beautiful gold.

  The walls shined like silver, gold, and ruby. Fuck, she was glowing herself when we got to where I wanted, like we were extensions of the glory all around us.

  “Babe, stop right here. This is where you get your second surprise.”

  “Holy shit! Anton, I –“ she clapped a small hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Cursing like that's the last thing I should be doing here.”

  I grinned. “It's fine. The only thing that'd really desecrate this place is refusing what I've got here.” I reached int
o my pocket.

  She started shaking her head, cherry red heat flaming on her cheeks, knowing what was coming. Fuck it. There was no more need to play sly.

  I reached for the box in my pocket and popped it open, pushed it into her sweet hands cupped near her bosom. “Marry me. We've been through heaven and hell together, and here we are. You're already mine, babe, whatever the fuck happens from here. Now, let's make it official. Say 'yes' so I can slide that rock on your finger.”

  Her eyes almost popped out when she saw the ring. Fine jewelry was nothing new to her, growing up in wealth and splendor like me. I still managed to hit the mark. A few special connections and a million bucks bought more here than anywhere else.

  “Anton!” She swooped into my arms, smashed the box between us, planting her lips on mine. “Of course I will.”

  Thank God. The phrase held extra power here. Not just because we were kissing in the middle of this beautiful renovated temple, but because I'd been scared as shit about something breaking down at the last minute, some creep of doubt, some kinda bad luck.

  It was meant to be, and it took me a full minute of her hot little lips on mine to realize it always had been.

  A few seconds later, I held her, plucked out the ring, and pushed it onto her finger. Perfect fit. Only kind there'd ever be.

  We'd gotten our fairy tale ending after a twisted beginning. Sometimes, dreams do come true, and you can build them piece by piece, digging clay from the craziest fucking places.

  “Bastard,” she hissed in my ear, hot and salacious. “You scared me. You were planning this all along.”

  She laughed, and I shot her a serious look. “Shit, babe. We've christened this place with enough dirty talk for one day. Save some for the big day.”

  Another laugh. She gave my bicep a playful whack. I grabbed her, threw her over my shoulder, and led her to the back door carved in the nicely concealed wood behind the altar.