Breaking It All (The Hellfire Riders Book 3)

by Kati Wilde

  “Yeah, they will.” I just don’t want her to know what I’ll be trading. “I’ll be taking my bike. The truck’s yours to use. There’s cash in the safe—spend it on anything you need. I don’t know if these fuckers from the Cage can trace your cards but there’s no reason to risk it. You’ll be fine in the hotel or heading out of the city. You’ve got good hiking that way, ocean that way.”

  “Maybe I will.” She pauses in the hotel lot, bending over and stretching her legs, her body in a long, lean line. Christ help me. “I should have brought my paints.”

  “Use the cash and get some. We might be here the better part of a week.” Maybe even a month, but I don’t want to start thinking that yet.

  Jesus. The way she’s folded over with her hands on her ankles, I’m not thinking at all. Just about how flexible she is—and how I could get her heels up by her ears and get into her so fucking deep.

  She straightens up, arms raised high in another long stretch that lifts her shirt above the waist of her shorts, exposing her tight stomach and smooth golden skin. I’m biting back a groan when she looks over her shoulder at me. “I get the shower first.”

  “All right.” And I’ll just be pressed up against the bathroom door, fucking my fist.

  It’ll only take about two strokes to come. Especially if I picture the way she smiles like she is now, playfully catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth before saying, “I’d be your slave forever if you have coffee waiting when I get out.”

  “Shit. I’m not passing that up.”

  She laughs and heads in, passing the elevator. We take the stairs up, Anna jogging a few steps ahead, and me in heaven with her delicious little ass bouncing in front of my face.

  She reaches the room ahead of me, then waits while I pull the keycard from the zip pocket of my shorts. I open the door and ice races through me, instantly sharpening into rage with a cold, killing edge.

  Strawman’s sitting on Anna’s bed.

  I hear her soft indrawn breath as she bumps into the hand I put up behind me, stopping her from coming in.

  “Get out.”

  Strawman’s eyes are as cold as mine, his grin like a shark’s when he spreads his hands. “My brother. I hope you don’t mind. I told the girl at the desk that I’d forgotten my room key and she remembered my face, so she let me have another.”

  “Get. Out.”

  He rises but isn’t going fast. Anna’s hand grips mine and I tug her inside the room, leaving the door propped open and keeping her close beside me.

  His gaze locks right onto her. “I just thought I’d have a look around. I see you slept in separate beds.”

  “Because what’s between her and me is just like I told you it was.”

  Disbelief fills his short laugh. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, brother. Jesus.” His eyes go hot as he looks her up and down, lingering on her long legs. “Hello, girlie.”

  Her chin lifts. “Anna.”

  “Anna,” he echoes with a slow, mocking smile that’s going to look real nice smashed against my fist. Until he says the words that remind me why I can’t pound his face in—yet. “I hear you’ve got a brother in some trouble.”

  Her fingers tighten on mine. “Yes.”

  “And my brother’s helping you out. So tell me why you’re not on your knees sucking his dick in gratitude?”

  Fuck this. I let go of Anna and head for him, my eyes locked on his, watching for the moment I know is coming.

  And there it is. The flicker in his eyes. The one where he realizes that I’m not his little brother anymore. The one where he realizes that my oncoming path isn’t a safe place for any man to stand. The one where he realizes that I could come at him without any weapons but my bare hands, and still beat his ass to the ground.

  That flicker is doubt and fear and it pisses him off. But pissed doesn’t change what’s true. He knows it. And I know it.

  So I get up in his face and tell him softly, “Are you saying anything worth hearing or are you leaving?”

  He responds with a slow grin. “I’m just delivering a message from Mama. Because when you told Six-Point you were coming, it sounded like you intended to visit by yourself. But she wants you both.”

  I don’t let him see how everything in me rejects the thought of Anna ever going out to the farm. But if Anna’s just a girl under my protection, this shouldn’t be a struggle.

  “All right,” I agree easily. “If Mama wants.”

  “She does.” His eyes harden as he steps closer, speaks softly. “Now, you want us to think this girl’s nothing? Then you better think about what you’re going to do when I ask her to get on her knees for me, considering how we’ll be helping her.”

  “She’s not asking for help. I am.” If I don’t kill all of them first for pulling shit like this. “And she’s not nothing. I owe her brother my life. I owe it to him to protect her. So you consider what that obligation to her brother means to me before you even think of speaking to her again.”

  He smirks. “Yeah. Those separate beds aren’t nothing.” Slapping my shoulder, he heads past me, turning and walking backwards as he continues, “But I’ll keep your secret for now. Because I don’t want to lose another brother over some impure pussy.”

  Red swims in front of my vision. I start toward him, and if he doesn’t move fast, that red’s going to be his blood. “Get the fuck out!”

  He holds up his hands, shoots a grin at Anna as he backs past her. “I’m going. And best you pack up your things, bring them out to the farm. Mama will want you staying there.”

  “No fucking chance.”

  I slam the door on his grinning face and stand with my palms braced against the doorframe, shaking with rage. Anna’s waiting just inside the mirrored vestibule leading to the bathroom, her arms wrapped around herself, looking worried and small.

  Swallowing hard, I try to keep the anger out of my voice when I ask, “You all right?”

  “Yes.” She bites her lip. “You?”

  Fuck no. I bark out a hard laugh and shake my head.

  “Gunner,” she says softly and I look to her again. Nervously fiddling with her fingers, she moves out into the entryway and leans back against the wall as if bracing herself against it. “I know how these things work in some MCs. If being on my knees is what it takes to get Stone back—”

  Anger boils up again. “Don’t you go there.” Without a thought I’m on her, my fists slamming into the wall on either side of her shoulders, my face right up in hers. Through gritted teeth I repeat, “Don’t you even fucking go there.”

  And my girl doesn’t know when to quit. She opens her mouth. “But—”

  “Don’t.” When her teeth snap shut, I rasp harshly, “You think Stone wants to be saved that way? What’s the difference between that and the Iron Blood fucker raping you?”

  Even in the face of my rage, she doesn’t back down. There’s not a single flicker. “Well, I’d choose one.”

  “Bullshit! It’s not a choice when someone holds your brother’s life over your head and makes you suck his dick. It’s what you’re forced to do, not what you want. And that’s called rape, sweetheart.” I lean in closer, my eyes on level with hers, making sure she can’t mistake this vow. “And I’ll never let it happen in a million fucking years. You got that?”

  Eyes huge, she nods.

  Not good enough. “I want to hear you say it.”

  “Okay. I got it. No sucking dick.” On shaky breath, she licks her lips. “But just so you know, if it comes to that, with you, I’d be all right with it. Like, if you’re forced to make a point about how little I mean to you when we go there. I could do it with you, not them. Because with you it would be something I want.”

  All the blood drains out of my head. “What?”

  “Well, I mean…” With a tiny frown forming between her brows, her golden gaze searches mine. “Come on. Do you really think I threw myself at you last summer just because I was drunk? I get turned on just loo
king at you. And, Jesus—when you touch me? It’s like I’m burning alive. So if you’d ever shown any real interest, I’d have gone to my knees in a hot second—”

  That’s enough. Because Real interest? That’s my mouth claiming hers and inhaling her gasp of surprise. That’s me lifting Anna up against the wall and wedging my hips between her thighs. That’s me kissing her like a man starving, and groaning when her lips part and her sweet hot taste floods my senses.

  And when my mouth’s on hers, there’s nothing else in the world so right. I knew it ten years ago on the side of a road and I knew it in her shower the other night.

  The only difference then was I stopped after one kiss.

  Hungrily I feast from her lips, returning to delve deep into her mouth again and again, tasting, devouring. She’s frantic against me, her hands fisting in my hair as if she’s afraid I might lift my head and walk away, and the sweet pain from her fingers joins the brutal ache of my arousal as I grind my cock between her sleek thighs. But I’d even love torture from her, because her mouth is slick and greedy, as if this kiss is everything she’s wanted, needed.

  It’s all I need. Just tasting her, hot and wet and deep. As if I could make up for ten years of not kissing her, as if I could make this last for ten more years. And I’m still kissing her as my orgasm erupts without warning, coming endlessly hard into my shorts when she boldly sucks on the tip of my tongue, moaning her pleasure as if she needs to suck on something, anything.

  Chest heaving, I lift my head to get a look at her but her fingers tighten and she drags me back down to drown in the perfection of her mouth.

  Wrapping her legs around me, she rocks her hips harder, faster. Soft needy whimpers against my lips become ragged desperate cries. Tension tightens her slim body, her back tight against the wall.

  Abruptly she breaks the kiss, her neck arching, her eyes glazed and skin flushed.

  Oh fuck, yes.

  My cum painting the inside of my shorts, I grind up between her thighs, my lips against hers. “You about to come?”

  The erotic sound she makes sends blood rushing to my dick again. Like she meant to say yes but only a needy whimper emerged. Then she’s makes another of those desperate cries when I grip her ass and slow the rock of her hips.

  “Shh, sweetheart.” I steal another taste from between her lips, and her moan and the way she seeks out my tongue drives me crazy. “I’ll take care of you. I’m not going to leave you aching. Is your pussy nice and wet?”

  Her answer is to pull my head down for another hard kiss, trying to grind against me—then going utterly still as my hand slides forward over her hip. Breasts pushing into my chest with each ragged breath, she stares up at me, her lips parted, her breath hot.

  And she’s drenched. I groan when my fingers slip beneath the edge of her shorts, pushing aside her panties, and find her so slick and hot.

  Covering her mouth with mine, I swallow her pleasured cry and push my longest finger deep inside her scalding heat. Her body jerks, her back bowing. Jesus, she’s so wet and tight—and sensitive, her lean muscles tensing and trembling with the lightest brush of my thumb over her clitoris.

  But it’s not enough. I kiss her, stroking her slippery clit until her movements become chaotic, erratic, and her low moans rise sharply with each thrust of my hand.

  “You want to come like this, on my fingers?” I ask roughly against her lips. “Or do you want more?”

  Her fingernails dig into my shoulders. Desire deepens the gold in her eyes, reddens her skin. Her response is a thick moan. “More.”

  “I’m going to give you more, sweetheart. What do you need?” I know what I need—to taste all of her. “You want me to suck on your hot little clit?”

  Her inner muscles clench around my finger. Her breath stutters.

  “Fuck yeah,” I groan against her mouth. “Your pussy says yes. But I want to hear you say it. Tell me you want my tongue all over your sweet cunt. Tell me you want me licking up all this pussy juice. Ask for my mouth.”

  “Your really dirty mouth?” she responds and it’s a half laugh, half desperate sob.

  “You like it.” The way her pussy gripped me so tight, I’d say she loved every filthy word. Slipping another finger inside her, I screw my fingers deeper into her drenched sheath and she cries out, bucking against my hand. “Now tell me what you want.”

  “Your mouth!” It’s almost a sob of frustration and she yanks at my hair. “I want your mouth.”

  “And my pouty lips, yeah?”

  Her body shakes on another laugh, then stiffens again, arching against me. She’s right at the precipice, trembling on the edge of release, but I’m not giving her enough.

  Not yet.

  I ease her feet to the ground and she sags against the wall. She gives a plaintive moan as I slide my dripping fingers from inside her, then abruptly goes still when I grip her shorts and panties and drag them down to her knees.

  Sweet Jesus. I should have gone slower, stripping away her shirt first, taking off her running shoes, because the sight of her bare pussy in front of me sweeps away every other thought. Her mound is waxed smooth, her clit and pussy lips flushed a deep pink and peeking from her slit.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I lean in, breathe deep. And Christ, the sweet smell of her is intoxicating. “You keep it bare for yourself or for someone else?”

  “For myself.” She’s breathless, trembling.

  “You’re so goddamn pretty. I could just look at you and die happy.”

  “Don’t die yet.” Impatiently she tugs at my hair. “You said more.”

  I did.

  My hands look huge when I grip her hips, tilting her forward. With her legs trapped by the shorts and panties around her knees, her thighs are barely parted. Her arousal glistens over smooth skin. As I dip my head, her body trembles.

  I do, too.

  Open mouthed, I taste as much of her as I can all at once, groaning when her tangy flavor hits my tongue. She tenses, fingers digging into my scalp, a tortured little noise breaking from her lips.

  “Shh, baby,” I whisper huskily, then slide the flat of my tongue over her clit in a long, rough lick. She moans and shakes, pushing her pussy into my face. I can’t get much deeper into her slit, not with her shorts hobbling her legs, but I can get at her clit, flicking my tongue, teasing, teasing, before covering her with my mouth.

  God, her sweet taste. I could do this forever.

  With a hungry moan, I suck on her clit and she gives a gargling cry, her knees giving out. I could hold her up but I want her down. My mouth locked onto her pussy, I ease her to the floor, her back sliding slowly down the wall.

  Breathing heavy, I draw back. She looks drugged by her arousal, eyelids weighted, her eyes glassy. Her breath comes in short pants, her breasts rising and falling with each one, her nipples like hard beads beneath the thin cotton of her shirt. I drag her running shorts and panties down over her feet, pulling off her shoes as I go.

  “Spread those gorgeous legs for me, sweetheart.” My voice is gruff with ravenous need. “Give me room to get in there deep.”

  Despite the command, I don’t wait for her, gripping her knees and pushing them wide. Her pussy lips part and I get a view of heaven, wet and lush and pink.

  I tear my gaze away from her beautiful cunt and find her staring at me, her full bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “Anna, baby,” I groan, sweeping my fingertips higher up the insides of her thighs, loving her sweet shiver. “Tell me not to stop. Tell me you need more.”

  Her body shakes on a laugh. “Don’t stop. Because I’ll kill you if you stop.”

  “I’ll die if I do. God, sweetheart. I’m going to eat you all up. Your pouty clit hasn’t gotten enough of my pouty mouth.”

  “Oh my god.” She laughs breathlessly. “I think we settled on pillowy.”

  “I remember sexy.”

  Her gaze dips to my mouth, the amusement fading, replaced by burning heat. “Yes,” she says. “Very se
xy.”

  “This is what’s sexy.” I push her legs a little farther apart. “Jesus. I’m a second away from coming again, just looking at your sweet pussy. Thinking of how fucking good you taste.”

  Her fingers curl against the floor. “Gunner, please—”

  “More?” I press a kiss to her knee, then higher. “You still needing me, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” she breathes. “So much.”

  “I’m going to take care of you.” My eyes locked on hers, I kiss higher, higher, scooting down and stretching out between her legs, bracing my upper body on my elbows. With my lips hovering above her glistening clit, I promise, “I going to make you feel so damn good,” before claiming her pussy with a long, slow lick.

  And then I lose it. Over the years, I’ve imagined this moment thousands of times. Imagined how I’d tease until she’s begging and screaming my name. How I’d be slow and controlled. But the moment I get my mouth on her fully, there’s no control. Instead I’m trying to taste her all at once, fucking my tongue up inside her, pumping two fingers deep and feeling the squeeze of her hot sheath, sucking on her juicy clit and licking, licking. Her fingers fist in my hair and her body rises up in a taut, strung bow, her hips thrashing against the grip of my hands.

  She doesn’t scream my name. Instead she comes on a guttural choking breath, her pussy convulsing around my fingers, her pussy juices coating my chin. Lips wrapped around her spasming clit, I moan and suck harder, riding through each jerk of her hips, until she gasps “No more” and pushes me away.

  I don’t go far. Softly kissing her inner thigh, I look up.

  Her arousal still burns. Eyes still glazed and heavy, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth, she watches me—half sitting up, her shirt rucked up beneath her breasts, her shoulders crammed into the corner of the wall and the dresser. Jesus. I don’t even know how she got there. We’re a full six feet away from where we started.

  Her hand strokes lazily down the length of her taut belly. “You want to join me in the shower?”

  Where I could finally slide my cock deep inside her. Where she could get on her knees and wrap her beautiful mouth around my dick—