Everything slowed down once I was out of school. Tank and I fell into this rhythm that was almost its own kind of beautiful in its simplicity. Tank would handle club stuff while I went to work as a librarian. At night, some of the guys would come over, and I would tutor them or work on GED prep classes. Even Tank joined in, though I’m still trying to convince him he’s smart enough to pass. Afterwards, I’d make dinner for whomever was home with us and I’d let Tank get his business taken care of until it was our time to go to bed together—our only promise to one another. Neither of us could sleep if the other one wasn’t around.
Tank also made it his mission to make me a part of his world. One sunny and stifling Texas day, I came home to another Harley in our garage. It was his gift to me, along with the lessons needed to get confident on it. My first ride out was shaky and terrifying. I had never, ever wanted to learn to ride, but Tank persisted. And by the fourth or fifth day at it, I was a pro, brave enough to weave in and out of traffic on the highway with Tank riding right behind me.
That evening, he pulled me aside along the highway. The setting sun was right in front of us, as it glowed a vibrant gold against the dessert’s black. He pulled me off of my bike and onto his, with my back leaning against the handlebars and my legs wrapped around his. As I leaned back, looking up and over at the purple and pink clouds, he leaned down and whispered words I thought I’d never hear from him. “Be my wife, Sierra. I don’t want to imagine a world without you. And I don’t want you to belong to anyone else. Say yes, and I promise you won’t walk a day alone.”
I sat there silently, my watery eyes still focused on the clouds and the stars that peaked in through the clearing, and in that moment, I couldn’t imagine a life without him either.
Now we’re here. It’s two months later, and wedding planning has completely knocked me out. With the motorcycle club, there are so many traditions and rituals that you’d think Tank was the one in the strapless, lace gown. But we managed to get through them all.
Anthony is waiting for me at the start of the aisle, his tuxedo-covered arm waiting for me to hold on to it. We watch with the biggest smiles on our face as Carmen walks steadily down the aisle, her limp from the attack barely noticeable. And when it’s my time to follow her, I let Anthony lead me to my husband. We share our first kiss as a married couple under the halo of stars as men clad in jeans and black jackets hoot and holler along.
After the ceremony, we head back towards the headquarters where Tank’s men have set up an outdoor patio in the parking lot, complete with string lights twinkling above and tables covered in white lace cloths. Carmen gives a toast while Tank’s boys ride their ceremonial ride around before coming back even more fired up than before. And I spend the rest of the night dancing in his arms, my head close to his chest as the band plays on.
When it’s time to say goodbye, we hop into the limo one of the Apache members managed to get for us. The driver takes us to our hotel, the swankiest in all of El Paso. I hold his hand, as he leads me through the penthouse suite towards the bedroom he’s already prepared for us. As soon as we walk through the door, he pulls off his tie and wraps it around my eyes, blinding me to what is coming next.
“As my wife, you now have some duties…”
“Some duties?” I ask, my throat suddenly dry and tense as he spins me around and walks me to where I think is the center of the room. Tank walks around me in a slow circle, examining me slowly. He stops behind me, as I feel the zipper of my wedding dress lower towards my waist until the heavy material falls flat to the ground with a small whoosh of air. I stand there in front of him completely blind and only dressed in my white lace panties and a strapless bra. And although I’ve been naked with him thousands of times now, the feeling of not knowing what comes next has made every part of me tingle with desire.
He pushes me on to my hands and knees, and I can feel his presence just directly in front. A finger traces over my red painted lips, and I kiss at the tip and along the nail before taking the length into my mouth, my tongue swirling and teasing at it.
I listen to him as he removes his suit. The echo of his belt hitting the floor rings in the oversized room. He removes his finger and uses the hand to lift my jaw up and out -- my mouth still in the perfect “o” shape. I feel him enter me, his cock still soft but warm and tender against my tongue. I place my hands around the back of his chiseled ass, as I invite him in even further. The groans he mutters as my head begins to rock up and down his shaft is a moment I promise myself I’ll never forget.
His cock grows harder with each of my small sucks at the tip. The veins throb violently as I use my tongue to lick the underside of him. And as I speed up, I can feel him tensing. Every part of his body seems to be wrapped up in this moment. His hands grab onto my shoulders and knot themselves in my curled hair as they press me on and on.
I push through the aches in my jaw as I hear him cry out, “Sierra! Jesus! This is amazing.” I want this night to be the best. I want him to feel all the pleasure he has given me when I wrap my lips around the base of his member. I want him to release everything into me.
His dick takes over when I grow tired. It punishes my mouth, fucking me in a way that I would never have let him before. But he has my permission to do whatever he wants with my body. I am his after all. And he can feel that. His cock pours into me at breakneck speeds as I groan and cry out. The vibrations only please him more, as he guides my hands to his stiffening balls. I cup them in my hand and massage lightly at his command.
And then, he pulls away. It’s so sudden that I almost fly backwards from the force. In the darkness behind my makeshift blindfold, I hear him growl, “Fuck! You almost made me cum in your mouth, you dirty girl. I should punish you for that.”
I don’t even have time to protest before I feel an arm grab me from behind and lift me off of the floor. I land partly on the bed and mostly on his lap. My feet dangle off of the sides as I use my arms to grab hold of the blankets. A thumb hooks under the thin material of my panties and it slips down the curve of my thighs and calves till it reaches my feet. I don’t even have time to kick them off before I feel the slap of his hand against my skin. I let out a surprised yelp, as I dig in even further into my space.
“Don’t cry too much. I’m just getting you warmed up for what’s to come…” Another slap as Tank hand cuts into my ass. There’s another before I can catch my breath. And again… and again. I lose count as they come almost rapidly.
A finger slips in between my thighs while I try not to focus on the biting pain and heat. When it enters me, I cry out, this time placing my hand at my head to try to release my blindfold. Tank grabs my hands and places them back on to the bed. “Oh no. It’s not going to be that easy, wife of mine.” One hand slaps me while his finger plows into my softening pussy.
The sensation tears me apart. The warmth of his hand on my ass and the drive of his finger deep in me steadies and releases me. It’s like being transported into two worlds, and with the darkness, I can feel every sensation more vividly, as if it were a dream from which I wasn’t ready to be awoken.
Tank leans his hand that rests inside me upwards so that it presses up against my clit while the other hand massages at my raw and red skin. I fall back loosely onto him, giving into the pleasure. My body feels like a weight has been lifted. With each stroke in, there’s a counter stroke around and up against my most sensitive parts. I coo into the blanket as I find myself needing him inside of me more and more. My hips respond by pressing down with a swivel, forcing him to slide in even deeper.
“You want this?” he asks, as he takes one of my hands and places it on his stiffening cock.
“Yes, Tank. I want this.” My voice is hoarse as if I’ve been screaming for hours. “Please, fuck me.”
His enormous arms turn me so that I am straddling him at the side of the bed. My arms wrap around his neck, bringing me face-to-face with him. Though I still cannot see him, I can feel his breath up against my lips and
nose. I push towards him, and our lips meet almost perfectly. We connect just as his cock enters me. The folds of my pussy peel back, as I sink my hips lower down his shaft.
His fingers wrap around my hips and bounce me up and down to the beat of his cock inside of me. I let myself lean back towards the ground, knowing that he will hold tight to me. My knees do all the work, as I give myself the best angle possible to feel his wide cock take me. His hips practically lift off the bed, as we both try to hold on against the force of our sexes attacking one another.
As he speeds up, I pull myself back up, finding his face in the darkness. I can’t bear to not see him, or his eyes, as we collide fast towards orgasms. I pull down the blindfold and hold his eye contact with mine. His blue eyes flash an icy fire at me, as mine glow with the embers. Our bodies synch up, as both of us give up control over the other.
Mine flares, that pit in my stomach growing and turning, as the warmth peels up between my thighs and rapidly moves to my stomach, spine, neck, and mouth. Tank leans his head into my shoulder as he looks down to watch as I explode onto his cock, my body slowing sweetly to his own cock releasing inside of me. Breathlessly, we kiss, our lips holding onto one another like the rest of our body.
Tank spins me gently towards the bed, his cock still inside of me as my head finds the pillows. He rolls off me and takes up the rest of the space on the oversized bed. Tired and still shaking, I curl my arms and legs around him and press my head towards his chest.
“My wife,” he says after a long moment of just listening to one another breathe deeply. “I can’t believe that you’re my wife.”
“My husband,” I reply back, a wicked glint in my eye. “I can.”
THE END
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OTHER WORKS BY OLIVIA STEPHENS
RECKLESS
EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM IS WRONG… BUT WHY DOES IT ALL FEEL SO RIGHT?
MIRANDA
He left my world a shattered mess, and I swore I’d never forgive him.
Instead, I never forgot him—Never forgot his strong hands rough against my skin, his lips crushing against mine, and the sound of his big heart thump, thump, thumping in the night.
And when I saw him again, after all these years…
I should have known better. I should have turned away.
But something about this bad boy is pulling me back.
And this time…
He won’t EVER let go.
TYLER
I don’t do second chances, I f*** and forget.
Some good liquor, some bad girls, and a good time are all I need.
All that changed with Miranda.
A spitfire with a body screaming to be claimed, and an innocence begging to be corrupted.
Once wasn’t going to be enough. Not by a f***ing long shot.
And I’m not stopping until she’s MINE.
DAMON
I just wanted someplace where I would be safe.
CASSIE
Instead, I ended up at a truck stop outside of Poughkeepsie, New York, counting out change for a meal and trying not to freak out.
… Then I saw him.
Voice deep and raspy as a motorcycle engine. His kutte vest had so many patches on it I couldn't decipher even half of them, and his steel blue eyes said he'd been places.
Bad places.
Places that he’ll take me to.
Places that I’ll never want to come back from.
***
It's not kidnapping if I'm saving her goddamned life
DAMON
She was one of those girls begging to be saved with those big sad brown eyes. Worn out from playing tough too long, scared to death underneath, looking for a rock to cling to.
I'm her rock tonight.
But I'm going to do it my way.
And when the ride's done, I'll be seeing that she pays for the trip in my bed.
And I’ll be goddamn sure to leave her begging for more.
Savage: Iron Dragons MC Page 49
