Devil's Claim: Apaches MC

by Claire St. Rose

  He pulls away slowly, savoring me. My voice, hoarse and lost in the pain of my throat, manages to squeak out, “You came for me.”

  “I told you I would, didn’t I?” Tank’s face changes as he studies me in the pale light of the closet. He stiffens as he says regretfully, “I should have come sooner. That fucker is going to pay for putting a hand on you. Do you know what happened to him? My guys found the footprints but nothing else.”

  I lift a shaking finger up to his lips, trying to make him stop talking. My head pounds from the rumbling sounds of his enraged voice, “Shh,” I whisper, “I don’t want to talk about him. Right now all that matters is that you’re here with me.” I add tiredly, trying not to drift away from this near perfect moment, “Can you please touch my face again with your hands? They feel so good against my skin.”

  I’ve always known Tank’s hands to be rough and calloused. Bikers hands are always beat up from the handlebars, the weather, and their work. However, there’s something different about Tank’s hands. As he touches the pulsating bruises on my cheeks and around my forehead, I don’t think about the cracking skin or the coarse bumps around his fingertips. Everything melts inside that gentle touch, everything feels whole again.

  After a few strokes, my eyes feel less weighted down. My eyelashes begin to separate from the wounds around them, and my vision clears. As I blink rapidly, I catch his steely blue eyes gazing right back at me in amazement. I start to notice the weight of his body on mine, his chest pounding against my breasts, and his heavy jeans rubbing between my thighs.

  I lift my hand up to his neck and touch the hairs around the base of his head before pulling him closer to me. He feels what I feel—the wanting, the needing. After Abe, I could never want anything but him, and in this moment, I had to have him.

  I take the lead, my mouth finds his and pulls him back down towards the bed. He’s gentle, but I’m not. Even though every bone aches in my body, I want him to know that he can do this to me. I trust him. My hand rustles under the soft t-shirt he’s wearing and I get bold—scratching him down the length of his spine from mid-back to the dip in his hips. His lips part, as I feel him moan, and my mouth enters his with all the passion I can muster up.

  As I massage at the lines of red marks I have created, I inch that shirt off of his muscular shoulders and arms. He breaks from my kisses just seconds to let the shirt go flying towards the ground. His bare chest and back are mine to explore, as I greedily feel at his tight, tense skin. I’ve never got to enjoy him like this, and being able to take him at my speed allows me to find new scars, new tattoos, and new muscles to ease my fingertips over.

  My head leans back, and our lips part. His trace down the side of my mouth, to the round of my chin and to my neck. His stubble and the heat of his breath mingle around my neck and ears, sending goosebumps down my arms and shoulders. As I shiver, he stops and looks at me concerned, “Sierra, we don’t have to do this now. We can wait, if you want.”

  I place a finger to his chin to lift his eyes level with mine. “No, Tank. I want this. I want you. Please?”

  “Say that again.” It’s an order, one that causes his nostrils to flare and his eyes to darken.

  “Please, Tank. Take me.” It’s less of a question this time.

  Tank’s mouth returns back to my throat, this time pushing down harder and faster at my skin. He tastes every inch of my skin, every crevice from the back of my ears to the curve of my shoulders. As he lowers himself to my breasts, his hands move to the hem of my dress and begin to tug. The dress falls easily down me, revealing the scratches and marks along my chest from Abe and his henchmen.

  He sees past those marks that probably will never fade, and only sees the girl he wants spread out for him to enjoy. He licks his lips, as he places his head in between my breasts and gently massages at the skin. They warm instantly to his touch though my nipples go instantly hard at being touched so intimately.

  His tongue begins to lap at my skin, teasing the little bumps that have popped up. His mouth moves in a wave around the crest of my breast and up towards my nipple. I feel his lips part around the tip as he sucks it in lightly. The pressure pulls me back, and every part of me reacts. My head spins, my hips lift gently, and my bare toes curl into the covers. The heat from his mouth dances on my skin, as I grab at his hair for leverage, pushing him further into me.

  As he plays with my breasts like a musician tuning their instrument, a hand skirts down to my bare thighs. I feel a finger brush against the curve of my pussy. Another one snaps at the elastics of my panties. A third finds its way to my back and pulls along the line of my thong. I let out the longest gasp of my life when finally I feel his thumb rest upon my sex, putting pressure on my pleasure spot.

  His thumb works at me, parting my skin expertly even through the light fabric. He moves off of my chest and slowly moves his hands down my stomach and hips to where his hands have parted me. He takes the opening and presses a kiss to my throbbing cunt. Again and again, his mouth adds deliciously wet, foreign moisture to my sensitive skin as I struggle to keep up with him. My hands grab at everything around me from the pillows to the comforter and even the side of the bed.

  And then comes the slippery, sweet tongue that glides across my folds. He laps at me like a Popsicle, tasting every hidden bit of me. That tongue pushes harder and harder down until it slips in between my pussy lips. His thumb remains at my g-spot, massaging gently enough so that everything opens up nicely for him to slide his way in like an expert spelunker.

  The feel of his mouth exploring my innermost regions has me practically begging for him to be a part of me. I’m awash with the feeling of wanting—of needing—a pull of desire that pushes everything else away. And all I want to do is watch. Seeing his head bob up along my thighs and stomach isn’t enough for me. I press slowly to my bruised elbows, causing him to press even further into me.

  Every bit of pain and suffering disappears for that moment. My stomach burns as my body begs for both more and mercy. My hands try not to grab at his body to push him away. And I arch in every angle possible just so I can feel the insanity of the buildup in me.

  As his tongue circles and dangles inside of me, I give in to the release. I let the feeling rush out of me like an explosion. Every inch of my pussy burns and glows as the blood vibrates through my skin. And in that one exquisite moment, I feel as if I had been transported from this hell to a heaven designed just for the two of us.

  Tank pulls slowly away from me, his hot breath panting at my pussy. As his eyes come up to meet mine, I place a hand around his moist neck and pull him in for a deep kiss. I can taste myself on his lips. Our tastes blend together perfectly.

  And despite all of my pain and the terrible things I have had to endure, as he lets go of my embrace, I still manage to say the words I have been longing to say since he laid me down on this bed, “I love you, Tank.”

  Chapter 29: No Happy Endings

  Her words sing to me, cutting through the darkness of my heart. I had heard it earlier, yes. But to see her lips make the sounds, to see her face lighten and rise with the movement, it was much more real to me. And in that moment, I was stunned.

  She wants to hear me say it back. I can tell that by the way she studies my face and touches my arm as if to remind me that she was still waiting there under me. But I can’t find the words. My mouth goes dry, and my mind goes blank. Everything is working against me, keeping me from expressing myself. It’s like every roadblock I’ve put on myself as Tank the dangerous, heartless motorcycle club president is fighting against the Tank I’ve become since I’ve met her weeks ago.

  So instead, I kiss her. It’s a hard and unrelenting kiss. I lose my breath as I suck her in. The taste of her earthy pussy still lingers under my nose and at the roof of my mouth. And it causes every sensation in me to travel down my chest, through my stomach, and between my legs. When I pull away, I know that she notices it, too.

  I want to ask her if it’s all right to
do this. I want to remind her of where she is and that we’re not that far from danger. As far as I know, Abe is still out there, and he’s got reinforcements coming. My two sharpshooters were excellent at their jobs—their skills pass the rest of my crew’s by a longshot. But they hadn’t managed to find him, and I was too busy looking for Sierra to really care.

  Every part of me wanted to run. Every part but one, that is. And as I kissed her again, letting her hands massage again at my knotted back and shoulders, I was going to let that one part take over.

  My hands found hers, as I pushed them backwards into the bed above her head. I catch her cringe at the motion, but she doesn’t complain. Her face is glowing in anticipation. She’s not going to stop me now. And with her pinned, I use my other free hand to remove my pants. My stiff cock giving away what my intentions are. Her eyes widen at the sight of it.

  “Sit up, Sierra.” I command. My voice deep and slow. “Get on your knees.”

  She follows my orders perfectly without question. It takes her a few minutes to adjust and get comfortable, but seeing her wither around the bed only makes me harder. When she’s ready, I join her, my front facing her back. She turns her head slightly to look at me, her hand running a line from my shoulders to the top of my crown where she tugs at my hair.

  I reach forward, pulling her even closer so that her perfectly round ass rubs up right against my stiff dick. It travels between her tailbone to the back end of her pussy as she rocks forward slightly. But I’m not ready for her just yet. My hands cup her breasts, feeling the weight of those perky mountains of hers. They are like putty in my hands, as I knead them in a smooth circle around her front. Her arm around my neck and head only holds tighter as I tweak her nipples with a slight pinch.

  The rumble of her chest as she moans again is enough to send my cock into overdrive. It’s already dripping wet just from leaning against her pussy, but now my own pre-cum is waiting for it’s own turn. I reach down into my jeans and pull out the few condoms I carry around and quickly slip one on my cock.

  She watches me with those brown doe eyes of hers. There’s nothing innocent about what I am about to do to her, but still her naive glance my way reminds me just how inexperienced she was when we began fooling around. Now she knows my body, as well as I know hers. And she’s ready for the ride.

  I get back into position with my chest against her back and my hands around her breasts. But this time, I pull her legs wide so that her knees are on the outside of mine. While I tower over her, her pussy seems to line up perfectly with my cock. Without any maneuvering, I slide her into position so that with one little thrust I am in locked and loaded in her sweet little pussy.

  Even through the condom, I can feel how wet she is from me going down on her. The moisture has me moving with ease as I warm up her folds. I take my time though. Each stroke in and almost out is timed so that I can see her mouth dip open and her head lay back against my chest. Her hands rest on her own stomach and then methodically move up to where my hands are holding her breasts and nipples.

  Our rhythm picks up as she begins to sway her hips gently side to side and in a circle. My cock drives deeper in her with each of her slight movements. It’s incredible just how different she feels to me with every single change of position or inch to this side or the next. One moment, her body is hot, awash in the passion, and the next she slows it down, taking my mind places I didn’t know it could go.

  When she slows down next, she also lowers her upper body down and towards the bed giving me the perfect view of her lovely backside, as it curves downward and backs further into my cock and balls. I grab hold of the fleshy parts of her hips and move her so that I can plow directly into her. And as she rests her head on her arms, her face up and over so that it could peer over her shoulder, I know this is my signal to take over.

  I waste no time. Every drive of my cock sends shocks down me and bounces her back. It’s so hard and quick that I can hear her audibly cry out. Her voice is incomprehensible, but it sounds almost like a thank you and a desperate plea for salvation. It only drives me to go harder, faster. My cock drills her pussy so that her skin becomes red and worn. Her folds cave, as I spread across them at breakneck speeds. I can barely hold on to her. Little white indents appear at her sides as my knuckles pinch into her skin. But she doesn’t seem to notice. Her voice grunts and groans, as if she is being taken away with every burst of my cock into her. Her own hands grab at the blankets, pulling them away from their tucked in places.

  With one shout, I feel her tighten and ease, tighten and ease. She bucks back up again, pushing against me so that I am sitting straight up once more. Her hands fly around my neck as they hold on for the second orgasm of the night. And when she’s through, her exhausted and spent body tumbles back down almost lifelessly onto the bed. I watch almost stunned as she blows a strand of hair away from her face and eyes.

  “It’s not over,” I mutter under my breath. “Hold on.”

  I don’t give her time to look back at me, as I take my cock and push right back at the speeds from before. With her no longer dipping and twisting with my moves, I’m free to pound even deeper into the caverns of her body. I let myself lose control, as I focus on that feeling, the warmth and tightness of her body with the adrenaline coursing through my veins sending me into overdrive.

  When I cum, I cum hard. I always have. But getting off inside Sierra is something more powerful. She somehow manages to tighten her pussy the moment that I feel it coming on. The pumping, the throbbing…my member falls prey to her body as she finishes me off. All I can do is hold on as tight as I can, as the lump that was once in my throat travels quickly down my spine and towards my cock. The contents of me spill into my condom and into her body.

  Neither of us moves. We’re both too dazed and awash in the post-orgasm period to actually do anything but just take each other in. I reach towards her wavy chestnut hair and pull a few strands around my fingers, slightly tugging at them. She responds with a wrinkled face and a coy smile that tells me that, at least for now, she’s okay.

  When we’re both rested, I pull out gently, tossing the condom off of me and onto the floor the first second I can. I toss her that little black dress she was wearing and the panties I practically ripped off of her along with my pants and shirt. But as I pick up my jeans, my phone falls out of it, lighting up almost instantly.

  She looks over my shoulder as I read the missed calls—all from missed numbers located in Mexico. My men. The danger that we had avoided for the last half hour or so has come back, but this time it’s even more urgent. We’ve been blind down here in the basement. With no windows and little ability to hear what is going on above us, I have no idea what is coming for us.

  We both dress in silence. I know Sierra can sense the shift, and I spot her hands shaking ferociously as she attempts to zip up the back of the dress on her own. I spin her around and finish the job.

  “What happened to your shoes?” I ask, noticing that her feet are covered in blood. I’m not sure whom it belongs to, but that’s a question for a later time. She responds by lifting her shoulders up quizzically. It’s been a long night for her, and I can’t imagine the horrors she’s been through. I smile lightly at her as I take off the socks I just put on and hand the large black pair to her. “Take mine.” Sierra rolls up the cotton socks to over her knees. Her skinny calves are practically engulfed by them.

  When she’s ready, I take her hand and lead her to the broken down bedroom door, guiding her over the woodchips and the messy cement floor. The darkness is silent and still, but from behind me, I can still make out the sound of her choked back sighs. As we approach the basement stairwell, I pull out the gun tucked into the pockets of my jeans and face her with my chest puffed out and my head held high.

  “Sierra, we’re going to get out of here. Okay? I need you to believe me.” She doesn’t answer right away, but she nods lopsidedly. I add, “I need to hear you say it.”

  “I believe in you. W
e’re going to get out of here.”

  “When we go upstairs, promise me you won’t let go of my hand. No matter what happens, you keep holding on.”

  She answers robotically, a mask for the overwhelming fear she is trying to push down, “I’ll hold on.”

  “Good. Now let’s go.” I count to five in my head before slowly opening the door. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but silence wasn’t at the top of my list. Everything in the hallway is still and quiet, there’s not a soul alive around. From my point at the top of the stairs, I can see the bodies practically piling up, and I’m relieved. Guzman’s boys did their jobs and found their own battle against at least ten Aztecs.

  But as we move out further into the light, I’m not so sure about that anymore. As I round the corner to the front entryway, I see both of Guzman’s men lying face down on the hardwood floors. Blood drips from around their ears and their hands are still formed in a way that showed they were armed when they were taken down. I take the gun out of one of their hands and place it back in my other pocket. Given this situation, I may need another weapon just to get out of here.