by Ava Ashley
"No!" I yell back, finally getting some of that anger I need, too, to push the desire away. "I'm not some sheltered princess. Life hasn't been all sunshine and butterflies for me, whatever you may think. But you don't know jack shit about where I'm from and what you're getting yourself into if you get involved with me. I'm the biggest mistake you could possibly make and I'm not fucking worth it!"
"Fuck!" Cooper slams the wall again. "I know everything I need to know." He breathes deep, controlling his temper, and walks over to me. Suddenly, he's inches from me again, his hands on my arms. "I know you're smart and kind and beautiful and an amazing woman. I don't give a damn about where the fuck you came from or what mistakes you've made. All I care about is who you are right now, and who you are right now is the woman that I want."
"But," I say, my temporary anger already gone and my voice much weaker. "Cooper, please stay away from me. I don't want to hurt you." I mean it, but there's little conviction in my plea for him to stay away and he can tell.
"Never," Cooper says, coming up to me and taking me in his arms again. "And don't you ever let me hear you call yourself a mistake again. No one talks about my girl like that."
I'm not letting myself give into his pull, at least not yet. "Cooper, I don't want to hurt you. If you get involved with me, you will get hurt."
"You're worth it," Cooper says, and then pulls me roughly to him and kisses me. My knees buckle from the impact of not only his physical force, but also the force of his words. And I cannot resist any longer.
I jump up on him, wrapping my legs around him and slinging my arms around his neck. He reacts immediately, one arm on my back and the other under my ass, holding me up. I find his lips with my own and then we're kissing again, this time fervently and hard, finally releasing the weeks of sexual tension that have been building between us. Our unbridled lust is perfectly matched in the heat of our passion and I'm tearing at his shirt at the same time that he's reaching under my top and unclasping the snaps on my bra. He frees my sensitive breasts, briefly breaking lip contact just to pull my shirt over my head and let me shrug off my bra, then his mouth finds mine again and we're rushing to kiss deeper, longer, harder. He slams me against the wall, but I don't feel a thing. All of my frustrations morph into sexual energy, and the very fact that I'm telling myself that I shouldn't be doing this fuels the fire of sexual desire that roars through my body. My hands are tangled in his hair, pulling his face closer into me as our bodies start to move together in an instinctual rhythm. He pauses for a breath and leans back a little to take me in.
His eyes climb slowly up my body, lingering on the gentle inward curve of my waist and the soft fullness of my breasts before he bends down to take an erect nipple in his mouth. I writhe with pleasure as the warm wetness of his mouth wraps around my sensitive nipple and my back arches involuntarily, my body doing all within its power to bring me closer to what I need. He swirls his tongue around my nipple, sucking gently before releasing it to move on to the other one. As the cold air hits the hot skin of my engorged nipple, a moan escapes my lips. The sound does something to Cooper and he growls, pulling me into him with a renewed vigor.
"You drive me crazy, pretty girl" he murmurs in my ear, before trailing kisses down my neck. The way he looks at me makes me feel like a Marilyn Monroe or Mata Hari—sexy, womanly, and wanted.
I'm all nerve endings and starbursts of pleasure. I can barely form a coherent thought, much less string the words together into a comprehensible sentence. A moaned, "Oh, baby," is all I can get out before I'm breathless again.
I tear at his shirt again—I need it off. I need the satisfaction of feeling my bare skin on his. Cooper obliges, pausing to pull his shirt over his head. He takes advantage of the small break to look at me again. He looks at me long and slow, like a man savoring a five-star meal. Then he looks at my face.
He doesn't look at me like anyone has before. It's not the respectful, intimidated look of MC members. It's not the critical look of instructors. It's not the look of adulation I got from girlfriends, who all thought they wanted my life of money and prestige. It's not the scared, guilty look of boys who dared to check me out before realizing who I was. It's not the value-assessing look of Nate and his father, who always managed to find something lacking.
Cooper looks at me like he really sees me. Cooper looks at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. The urgency of a moment before is paused as Cooper touches my face gently, like handling a treasure. I can feel his desire, as strong as mine, and see the longing in his face.
"It's been a long time since I've felt like this about someone," he murmurs. "You are a very special girl." Something flickers across his face.
"You have been hurt," I say, the realization dawning on me. This strong, handsome, man's man isn't invulnerable to emotion. I shake my head, pulling back from him a bit. "Cooper, I'm going to hurt you."
"You won't," he says, pulling me back to him. "You're different."
"I will," I say. "I don't want to, I really don't want to, but I can't do anything about it.
"Savannah, I'm a grown man. Don't underestimate what I can handle." His tone changes—now it's softer. "Savannah, even if you do, you are worth it. You are beautiful." He says it softly, like he means it. He strokes my face gently and I feel so warm. For once in my life, I believe it. I feel wanted and womanly and good enough, just the way I am. Cooper tilts my chin up with his thumb and kisses me deeply and passionately. I let go of all of my reservations. If I can live in this moment forever, I would be perfectly happy.
But once we're touching again, our mouths searching each other's, neither of us can keep it from escalating. I suck on his bottom lip. He squeezes my ass and pulls my crotch towards his, where I can feel his raging erection through his jeans. My heart feels like it's beating a million beats per second.
"I want you," growls Cooper. I'm too worked up to say anything. I just nod and reach for his fly. He cuts me off, spinning me away from the wall and carrying me, still wrapped around him, towards his bedroom. He kicks the door, already slightly ajar, open. Still making out feverishly, I slide down to standing and start fumbling with the top button on his pants. I finally get it open, a real feat since I can't bring myself to stop kissing him long enough to do it properly. I unzip his pants, then kiss my way down his body as I slide his jeans down.
"Savannah," he breathes. His already deep voice is thick with desire and knowing that I'm the one who made it that way is an amazing feeling.
I'm on my knees in front of him, kind of wishing now that I'd read more Cosmo or taken Trashy Tara up on her offer of a banana blowjob lesson back in the ninth grade. But my desire pushes the insecurities to the side and I pull down his green plaid boxers to reveal his erection, as hard as granite in my hand. It's a lot bigger than I expected a penis to be, in lusty afternoon daydreams, and I'm a little intimidated for a moment.
But then I look up at Cooper, who's looking down at me like I'm the only girl in the world that he's interested in, and my natural confidence kicks in. That, and the realization that I have a very sexy man's very hard member in my hand, and that man actually really cares about me, it seems.
I lick his length from base to tip, like a lollipop, not once breaking eye contact.
"Savannah," he groans, his forehead scrunching with pleasure.
"Mmmmm." I wrap my lips around his hard girth, flicking the underside of his penis with the tip of my tongue as I take him deeper into my mouth. I have one hand up on his abs and the other cupping his balls—mostly because I don't know what else to do, but also because he seems to like it. I feel his body tense with pleasure as I suck, swirling my tongue all around, over, and under his cock. Cooper's body tenses with pleasure. I'm kneeling in front of him on the floor, as he braces himself with a hand against the wall behind me. Then he pulls me to my feet.
"I want you," he says. "My girl."
The two words, repeated, are like a shock of pleasure through my already overstimu
lated body. It's not like how I was Nate's girl, bound to him because a peace agreement from our fathers and their most senior advisors said so. This is different. When Cooper calls me his girl, it's a profession of desire. It makes me part of a unit. It makes me belong somewhere and belong to someone because he wants me, not because he is obligated to have me.
"My turn," he says. "I want to taste you, beautiful." With that, he throws me down on the bed.
Oh. My. God.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cooper
The taste of her sweet sex almost makes me lose control, and the way she moans, squirms, writhes, and gasps my name isn't helping. I just want to hold her down and fuck her hard, but I use all my military and MMA training in self-control to keep it together so I can give her the full attention and pleasure that she deserves.
"I need you in me NOW," she pleads, with an urgency that I'm not about to ignore. I don't have to be told twice. I'm up and poised over her with my rock hard member at her hot, wet opening.
"You sure?" I ask. I really want to have sex with this incredibly beautiful, naked woman lying on the bed below me, but I also care too much about her to risk upsetting her or making her uncomfortable for some fun.
Even as lust-addled as my thinking is right now, considering all the blood that's been redirected to my cock, I'm still unquestionably whipped.
She nods. "Yes, take me." But she hesitates for a moment, so I wait. "But gently?"
"Is this your first time?" I ask. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. The women I've been with before her hadn't been virgins since long before I met them.
She nods. "I'm a virgin."
I immediately feel protective of her, but I can tell that she does want it.
"I'll be careful," I promise, giving her a kiss. As our mouths lock, I slide a finger in her wet pussy. She gives a gratifying gasp, the warm walls of her pussy clenching around my finger before relaxing again.
"Ohhh," she sighs, eyes fluttering closed. She's so sensitive and her reactions to everything I do just get me going more. I'm having the best sex I've had in a while and I'm not even in her yet.
After a minute or two, I slide a second finger in. Again, she squirms at first before relaxing into me, sighing with pleasure. She reaches up to pull my face down to hers for a kiss.
I give it to her, long and deep, then slide a third finger into her. Now she's ready for me. I put on a condom as she watches in pleasure-addled rapture.
Then I thrust into her part of the way. She's tight, but relaxed for me, and she feels so good. Instinctively, her hips rock with mine as I thrust in and out of her and her back arches with pleasure, giving me a wonderful view of her supple breasts and feminine curves. When she starts to breathe more heavily, I lean forward a bit, so that I rub along her clit as I pull out and again as I thrust back in. I'm getting her clit and her g spot and it sends her out of control. Her eyelids flutter, her mouth forms a perfect O as her head rocks back. Her legs are wrapped around me, a hand on my bicep and the other on my shoulder, pulling me to her.
Her body starts to rock with spasms and I can't hold myself back anymore.
The waves of pleasure crash over me with earth-shattering force as I come in her.
Chapter Thirty
Savannah
The sun is warm on my face when I wake up. I keep my eyes closed, holding on to that blissful just-woke-up-on-a-day-off feeling.
No work today and a nice long sleep in aren't the only reasons that I'm smiling. The memories of last night's awakening are still fresh in my mind. The way my body lit up from the inside with a spreading fire originating from my most private of parts. The way Cooper looked into my eyes, kissing me tenderly while taking me completely. The way the building pressure inside of me finally built up to a level beyond what I could take, then exploded into fireworks of sensation, sending the most intense pleasure of my life through my body.
I'm lying there, still basking in the afterglow of the most amazing night of my life thus far, when I get a bad feeling. Something is wrong. I don't want to let myself think it, but it's too late and I can't take back the terrible thought. I can't un-think the thought that the mattress feels oddly light. I can't un-realize that there's no body of heat warming me from the side.
I can't look, but I also can't take not knowing, so I take a deep breath and open my eyes.
Just like that, any good feelings from the moment prior instantly evaporate. Instead, there's a pit with the density of a collapsed star in my stomach, nauseating me. Taunting me for being such a gullible idiot.
What did I think? That I was special? Ha. This man is a well-known Casanova, almost as well-known for his rabid female fan base as for his top-ranked fighting skills. I fucking met the man when he was escorting some underdressed, sexed-up hussy out of here.
Of course I was just a challenge. Of course I was just another notch on his well-etched bedpost. All the jogs with Maxie, the shared meals and laughs, the conversations, and the MMA matches where he acted like having me there cheering him on meant something—he was just playing the long game. And now he got what he wanted.
And then, in my misery, another blow hits me. If I were standing, I would stagger. Chills run down my back as I roll over to look at the sheets below me.
There's a stain.
The room is spinning around me. I bled. That's it. After all my years of purity, I bled and I can't take it back. I can't rebuild my hymen by wanting it back badly enough. I can't take back my deflowering and be pure again.
I can't go back.
My stomach clenches. Until now, as much trouble as I would have been in for running away, I would have still been taken back. But now it's too late. If I went back, I would either have to admit impurity or my impurity would become obvious at the latest by my wedding night. When the goons come the next morning to check the sheets, there will be no blood and thus they will know.
There is no undoing the damage now. The MC wars will wage again and I will be disgraced, disowned, and exiled. If I dare to show my face as their fallen, sullied princess, I will only regret it. All will mock my failings and how far I have fallen. The tears start to stream down my cheeks.
I just threw away all of my options for a return to my former identity and life, and I did it all for a one-night stand with a man who may or may not even remember my name in a few months' time.
I am the world's biggest idiot.
I am on my own again, and more than ever, after being teased with a brief glimpse of what being part of a unit could be like. But there's no point in lying here and wallowing. I'm not going to be one of those pitiful girls who cries and begs a man to love her, to no avail. Either you're loved or you're not and I am not going to add insult to my own injury due to not being loved by demeaning myself further.
I wipe the tears from my face and force myself to stop sobbing. I gather the sheets around me as I sit up, as though I have anything left to protect, and scan the room for my clothes. I see a few pieces flung around the room from the night before, but my bra and my shirt came off in the living room and aren't in here.
Damn.
Then the bedroom door handle turns and the door swings open.
Chapter Thirty-One
Cooper
I can't remember the last time I got breakfast for a girl the morning after, but this isn't just a girl. It's Savannah. Being with her was well worth the wait. She's a woman worth wooing and worth caring for. It was still quite difficult to pull myself away from her this morning to run out for bagels and coffee. She sleeps like an angel, her sweetly innocent face relaxed in her sleep as she's curled up against her.
Cute as she looked lying there, however, it didn't change that she was still a very sexy woman who I very much wanted to take again. To keep from waking her up with a jab in the back from my morning wood, I finally dragged myself out of bed, threw on some clothes and headed out.
When I get back with a bag of warm, mixed bagels and a tray of two coffees, I open the
door quietly. I'm not sure if she's awake yet and don't want to wake her if she isn't. I break into an instinctive smile when I see her sitting up in my bed, so beautiful that it almost hurts to look at her, but then I realize that her face is streaked with tears.
I drop the food on the dresser by the door and am by her in three bounds.
"Babe, what's wrong?" I take her in my arms, rubbing her back and giving her comforting kisses on her forehead.
It takes her a minute to respond. She looks like she wants to say something, or rather lots of things, but she settles on, "I screwed up your sheets." I can tell that's not what she really wants to say. But I'm not going to push her when she's struggling, so I go along with it.
"Babe, I don't care about the sheets," I say. "I care about you. Are you okay?"
"They're ruined," she sobs.
"Babe, you know I don't care," I say. "You're what matters to me. It's okay. It's all going to be okay."
"How do you know?" She's not crying anymore, but there are still tears welled up in her beautiful, brown eyes when she looks up at me.
"I know because I'm going to make it okay," I say. I say it confidently, because I sure as hell will make everything okay for my girl. "I don't know what you're running from—"
"I'm not," she protests, cutting in.
"I don't know what you're running from," I repeat, "but I do know that if anyone ever tries to hurt you, I am going to make them wish they were never born."
She smiles weakly, but then she shakes her head. "You don't know what you're up against. My demons are numerous, huge, trained to kill, and armed to the teeth with the best that street money can buy."
No joke? She looks dead serious. What is this girl's story?
Suddenly, I realize that I don't care anymore. I'm not curious, because it doesn't matter.
"All I can tell you now is that you are worth well more to me than any amount of bedding. And maybe you don’t believe me yet, but in a year, or two years, or ten years, you will." I kiss her forehead and hug her head to my chest. "I will fight anyone, and anything, to keep you safe. I mean that."
