Outlaw (Satan's Saints MC)

by Bella Love-Wins

  I hope to God he believes the lie. Because Christ, that’s not everything. He doesn’t know the half of it, but if I leave here soon, I won’t need to tell him anything more than what I’ve already said. I just need to hold on a bit longer. Either he’ll get tired of keeping me here, or I’ll find a chance to make my escape, or someone will come for me when they notice I’m gone. Someone out there wants me badly enough, probably to try and shake down my father. I can count on that—which is why I so desperately want Silas to be the one to deliver me home safely. Any other scenario will make the situation at this clubhouse all the more complicated. I just can’t tell Silas that part. If only I can convince him to return my cell phone. Or steal it off of him.

  I can tell he has no plans to stop his attempt at intimidating me. He takes three quick strides forward until our legs touch. I try to stay calm and not react. And hell, the man radiates heat. I can feel it through his jeans without direct skin-to-skin contact, which causes my core to ache inside these loaner sweatpants. Silas drops to his knees to be at eye level with me, and parts my legs without a pause, making room to fit snuggly between them. His palms skim along my upper thighs. My fingers tremble against the bed, aching at every knuckle where I grip the sheets.

  “I don’t believe you, darling,” he all but whispers as our eyes lock, his face inches away.

  His right hand lifts up and cups my cheek. So much power hums beneath his touch, I utter a silent prayer in my head.

  Lord, give me self-control.

  And please, give me enough clarity to keep my eyes open and my legs closed.

  His touch is subtle, gentle, but I know deep down it’s part of his tactic to get my guard down. Silas can break me in half in an instant if he wants to. Despite that knowledge, my body hums, and my nipples harden beneath his soft, faded t-shirt.

  “Why the fuck was the mob after you, Sabrina?” His fingers skim along my jawline until he reaches my throat, at which point he cradles it, holding me in place as if I’m planning to bolt from him.

  I fight the urge to move away—and that dangerous undercurrent that pulls me closer. It must be those eyes.

  “I have no idea,” I say barely above a whisper. “Really. I was leaving my place to attend a gala benefit for a youth group home in the area. My father couldn’t make it, so I was on my way to cover for him. I was minding my own business, in a hurry on my way out to avoid being late when I ran into you. You know the rest.”

  That’s a part-lie too, but whatever it takes, I’m not admitting any more details.

  His fingers tighten almost imperceptibly at my throat and I let out a small whimper. Within seconds, he loosens his hold on me but doesn’t let me go, remaining close. When he closes his eyes and inhales slightly, I start to wonder if there’s any truth to the old saying that some people can smell out a lie. His eyes flash open, blazing blue, so gorgeous it almost hurts to look directly at him.

  “I can’t trust you,” he admits, his voice gruff and rocky, his fingers shaking against the side of my face. “But I don’t want to hurt you right now.”

  “You don’t?” my fingers reach out, brushing the wavy, black ends of his hair that rest at the collar of his cut.

  “No. I want to fuck you.”

  Chapter 13

  Sabrina

  I watch my hand freeze in place at the spot where I was idly playing with his hair. Time stands still between us. Nothing else exists while my heartbeat races, pounding somewhere close to my ears. I don’t question how illogical or impractical this is. I don’t argue or resist as his confession mixes in with the threat that singes the air around us that’s already thick with tension.

  “Admit it, Sabrina. Meeting you was a trap,” Silas says gruffly through his teeth.

  My eyes flutter closed as the deep timber of his voice vibrates and permeates into my bones. Is it my imagination or did his voice grow deeper? His rough, strong fingers slowly wander down the line of my neck, lingering for brief seconds at the base of my throat, close to my collarbone as his heavy palm rests on my shoulder.

  “Even if it was, I’m still going to take you right now. And don’t deny it. You want this too.”

  The last four words aren’t halfway out of his mouth when he pushes forward, sprawling us both out on his bed with his heavy weight pressed between my legs. His lips tease along my bare neck, fingers anchored in the roots of my hair, pulling my head to the side for better access to my tender skin. Warm breath thrums against my skin. A wave of sensation causes me to arch my back and I moan, grasping his shoulders, trying my best to hold on while his lips, tongue, and teeth explore every inch of my neck—everywhere all at once.

  “I wanted this since I saw you,” he rasps against my ear. “Wanted inside you so bad and it makes no fucking sense.”

  His other hand slides down the front of my body and teases my breast. The unexpected contact makes my hips buck, and he groans at my eagerness. As his fingers toy with my perked-up nipples, I writhe beneath him. Helpless. I can’t catch my breath. Trapped in his unforgiving heat, I explore every part of him that I can reach through his clothes. There’s no time to think, but I don’t need to think right now, not with the way he grinds his hips downward at the same time that I arch up into him.

  My self-control is gone. We’re both moaning and writhing from the intimate contact, but I hold my breath and freeze as his thick, hard erection nudges my clit through these bulky sweatpants. His sweatpants. Need overrides every bit of common sense that tries to break through and remind me that I’m a virtual prisoner in this biker gang president’s clubhouse. But it’s too late for warnings. I refuse to feel guilty for wanting him. Closing my eyes, I anchor myself in the here and now.

  Silas rips his t-shirt right off my body, exposing my breasts and capturing a nipple in the heat of his lips. The sheer bliss that floods my system bows my spine. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched, and never this way, with rough, sure hands exploring my body and leaving me breathless. His tongue circles my hardened peak, and his hand pins my arms above my head, stiff fingers flexing along the sensitive flesh of my inner wrists, making my center pulse with dizzying arousal as I close my eyes and commit every second to memory.

  “No. Open your eyes and look at me, Sabrina.”

  I whimper out a sound, slightly embarrassed by the order. An instant flush heats my cheeks. Opening my eyes, I stare up at him as his teeth tweak my nipple, teasing the tip with small flicks of his tongue. My eyes flutter, but I don’t break eye contact. I barely blink as he sucks my nipple into his mouth and his teeth tugs at the tenderness of my breast with just enough pressure for a delicate line of pleasure and pain to twist low in my abdomen. When I squirm beneath him, he pushes my hands down harder into the bed, asserting his dominance.

  Always in control. His movements are quick, sure, and downright primal.

  His fingers delve beneath the waistband of my sweatpants, following the line of my panties until I give up, shutting my eyes and letting out a soft hiss as I give myself over to bliss.

  “No, Sabrina,” he breathes out more roughly this time, which tingle along the wet marks on my breasts and making me shudder. His fingers slip out from their spot at the edge of my panties. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

  “Do what?” His question causes a gentle hiccup in his movement “Why are you stopping?” I ask, my voice raised an octave in panic.

  Confused and full of raw need, I twist beneath his one-handed hold on both my wrists, somehow hoping to engineer more contact through sheer force of will. His gorgeous lips quirk as if he’s fighting off a smile, and he runs his tongue teasingly along my bottom lip, lowering himself so his cock presses against my opening through our clothes.

  “Don’t take your eyes off me. I’m going to make you come, and I want to see you fall apart as I do it.”

  Sweet Jesus.

  For a heartbeat, my world stops turning and my mind goes blank. His blue eyes dance with delight—and somewhere hidden in their dept
hs was something more dire. He’s unreadable. As he continues to swivel his hips, idly grazing my clit with his erection, I forget all about that look in his eyes. I bite my lip and whimper, trying to ratchet up the contact between us with every desperate sway of my hips. How much more of his teasing can I take?

  “Hold on, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

  Then he relinquishes his hold on me, suddenly standing and stripping at lightning speed. My brain tries to put together the gorgeous puzzle his naked body makes. Christ, he’s an etched masterpiece. An exquisite man, I want all that lean muscle between my legs, in my hands or beneath my tongue. His tattooed forearms and biceps flex when he unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his ankles, kicking them off into a pile on the floor with his shoes.

  He eases a hand down the plains of his abdomen, and I’m glad he ordered me to keep my eyes open when he grips his thick, erect cock in his fist. One stroke, then another. Leaning up on my forearms, I watching this incredibly sexy yet intimate show he’s putting on for me.

  Yep.

  Boom.

  My ovaries have officially exploded.

  My first thought is that he’s touching himself to get a reaction from me, but once I see the way his eyes rake over my body, it hits me. He’s reacting to me, on his bed, in his space. That feels powerful as ever, except he’s too damn far away. I stare as a few strands of his hair fall over his eyes, and his head tilts backward as he groans from the delicious sexual contact. With my heart in my throat, I can’t look away. And I don’t want to.

  “Take off those clothes.”

  I scramble to obey. There’s nothing I won’t do right now to have his cock so deep inside me I forget my own name. And from the looks of what he’s packing between his legs, he’s about to go where no man I’d ever been with has gone before. Goosebumps trail along my limbs. My hands refuse to work despite what my brain tells them. All the while, I watch him as he works his length, his gaze never wavering from me on the bed. Without a doubt, it’s the most erotic experience of my life.

  As soon as I finish fumbling and shuck the clothes covering the lower half of my body onto the floor, Silas stalks toward me without a word. His palms touch the edge of the bed, and my body tenses at first, then relaxes. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m relieved that he didn’t talk himself out of it and leave. The small bit of vulnerability makes my stomach twist in knots, but now I know it’s so not the case. He wants this just as much as I do. I slide my palms along the softness of his flannel sheets, waiting for him, expecting him to ravage me, from the look in his eyes. Nothing in the last ten hours has prepared me for this.

  Not for anything like this.

  Silas falls to his knees at the side of the bed and reaches over to twine his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

  My whole body goes taut, eyes wide at the mental picture he painted that’s coming to life in front of my eyes. He turns my body sideways across the width of the bed. Both of his large hands splay on each side of my thighs, spreading me wide as he pulls my hips to the edge. He grips the back of my neck and lifts my head forward until our lips meet for a kiss. Each brush of his soft lips against mine is a subtle tease. He’s kissing me as if we have all the time in the world, as if that throbbing between my legs can wait. It can’t, but he’s already made a point of both showing and telling me this is his domain, his rules, his pace.

  Our mouths and tongues leisurely explore each other, and his fingers tighten in my hair, moving me exactly where he wants me at all times. I want to explode from the way his body heat tingles and pulses along my skin, even in places where he isn’t making direct contact. It’s as if the warmth pouring off of him can be its own living entity.

  He pulls away again, and once again I make a small noise in protest. His smirk matches the cocky gleam in his eyes, eyebrows raised as a small grunt of a laugh causes me to pull away. Well, to try, anyway. He knows I can’t move. He has me pinned down and that’s exactly how he likes it. Compelling me to meet his eyes that sparkle with so many nonverbal messages in succession that I can’t quite pin them down before they flit away.

  “I’m going to have you every which way, sugar. And you’re going to love it.”

  He glances down at the shadowed patch between my legs, bites down on one side of his lip, and drags his piercing blue gaze back up to my face.

  “Open for me.”

  I don’t hesitate. My legs open and he spreads them wider, with his palms dipping lower to meet my heat. His slick, warm tongue traces along the outer edge of my pussy, and I lean back on my elbows, letting out a soft cry. I can’t stop the fact that my lungs constrict with intense pleasure. And God, my eyes want to snap shut, but I keep them locked onto the sight of him between my legs, positive that he’ll stop if I don’t obey him.

  Adrenaline tingles at the base of my spine, and my toes curl as he swirls his tongue in short, clipped circles around my clit. My muscles go taut. My eyes are wide from the voyeuristic thrill of watching a man take such control and such pleasure from tasting me, feasting like he’s just come off a three-day fast. Without moving, Silas’s eyes roll up to watch me again. He must be pleased to know my eyes are still on him. His smile of approval making me clutch the sheets so hard that my knuckles go white. His tongue delves into my slit, teasing the barest bit, and I nearly cum right then and there.

  His tongue works me deeper, thrusting, and I move my hips back and forth to accommodate him. Little whimpers escape past my lips when his firm, rough fingers massage my thighs, causing me to open more to his course yet gentle touch. And then, he triggers a cascade of ecstasy that overwhelms my nervous system.

  “Oh…my…God,” I whisper, voice cracking as my throat closes and my muscles all flex, my core a quivering, mess of nerves as I cum.

  I want to mark this moment with more than heavy breaths and mindlessness. After waiting this long and making work a priority above everything else, this foray back to getting some is well worth my involuntary period of celibacy. Silas is exactly one hundred percent the hot-blooded, woman-pleasing, alpha male bedroom material I’ve been holding out for. Heck, I’d take him in the kitchen, on the couch, against a wall, in my office, and wherever he was up for dispensing pleasure. If he weren’t also my captor.

  “You taste perfect,” he groans.

  My thighs quake from the vibration of his words, and he returns to sucking on my clit while simultaneously plunging two thick fingers deep within me. I nearly shoot off the bed from his touch. His firm hand anchors me to the mattress as his mouth and fingers are more and more relentless until another overwhelming orgasm crashes down over my head and thunders through my body, right down to my toes. I’m vaguely aware that my voice is hoarse from screaming, even while he continues to work my pussy with his lips and tongue and digits.

  I writhe against the sheets, too busy scrambling to know whether I’m running from pleasure or aching for more of it.

  “Don’t move.”

  The words coming from Silas barely penetrate my mind, which is spinning in a million different directions. By the time I come back down to earth, he’s found a condom and is sliding it over his cock.

  This is actually happening.

  It takes me a beat to focus, but I need to memorialize the moment. I gather my scattered brain and watch him as he maneuvers onto the bed and pulls both my legs over his shoulders, never breaking his gaze. That stare. It’s intense. Beyond intense. It eats me up from the soles of my feet to the tips of my fanned out hair. Silas tightens his fingers along my hips and scoots forward, positioning himself. I can’t help myself. He’s so close and I haven’t had my chance to grope the goods. It’s a crime. Trying to make up for lost time, my fingers reach up and trace the ridges of his abdomen.

  Then our eyes lock again.

  “I told you I’d make you scream.” His cocky words echo in my ears and then are gone just as quickly when he plunges forward, burying deep into my pussy. All f
ragments of thought are long gone. His massive cock fills every inch of me with a force I’m not expecting. Or maybe I am. He warned me.

  Silas makes a constricted groan from the back of his throat, a sound that causes me to buck my hips. Then he stops again. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

  “Please,” I beg, but I honestly don’t know what I’m asking for as the word trembles under my conviction.

  His hands grip my hips tightly again, and he eases backward, then thrusts forward again, finding a rhythm. I dig my fists into the sheets as the deep, full feeling washes another wave of pleasure along my extra sensitive flesh. With each heave forward, his cock angles deeper and harder, intensifying and accelerating until I can’t catch my breath anymore. He pistons into me like a man possessed, and my body trembles under him as he rides me hard, unrelenting, taking me a step closer toward another orgasm with every thrust.

  “That’s it, baby. Come again for me,” he orders, pushing my legs backward ever so slightly, changing the angle once more, then again, then again until I flex and cry out through the blinding overload of pleasure.

  My inner muscles flutter around his cock, and another orgasm pulses through me, straining through my core and my limbs and my mind. Without stopping, Silas smoothes his hands up my calves, and I shudder from the contrast between that faint touch and the quickening strokes that punish my inner walls, stretching out my climax. My muscles shake from strain, but Silas doesn’t stop. He’s ruthless and unyielding, skimming fingers across every bit of my skin, teasing me with that light touch on the surface as he rams his cock against the deepest depths of my G-spot, over and over again.

  Soon his movements become erratic. He moves my thighs down from his shoulders and settles between them, hips making solid contact now. Our gazes reconnect. Neither of us looks away as he moves much more slowly, deliberately. Each stroke makes me whimper. I curl my limbs around him, running my hands from the back of his hair down his spine, and wrapping my legs around his hips. His tongue wisps down my neck, whispering something I can’t discern along my collarbone. I arch against him and his reaction tells me I’ve taken him past the point of no return.