Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,66

Damn that’s what she is, once she explodes, she leaks lava; instead of burning me, it slicks her up for my cock.

My hand dives between her legs and finds her hungry, swollen clit, slippery from her cum. I pinch the erect pearl, wishing I could see it and kiss it, but once I roll the bundle between my fingertips and tug, she’s crying out, gyrating her hips and pussy undulating around me.

“I’m not ever going to stop fucking ye until ye tell me,” I repeat, then flip us over so she’s on her back.

“I want to listen,” she says between swallows, trying to catch her breath. “I wouldn’t mind someone watching. I don’t know. I need to trust them. You won’t share me, right? I don’t like that.”

The heat, the passion, the yearning, the desire to stamp my claim on her in this moment, vanishes because the red hot lividity takes over me. I grip her chin and make her look at me. “Did he do that to ye? Share ye with other men?”

She glances away, and her silence speaks loud enough.

I let go with a growl, a primal animalistic howl gnawing at my throat as I grab her hips, lift them in the air, and pound into her like a man possessed. I am. There’s no doubt about it. She’s mine. No man will ever touch her. No man will ever use her like that again. Only me. Mine.

“Yours,” she replies.

I must have said that out loud. I don’t care. She needs to know I won’t let anything happen to her. I fucking love her.

She’s coming again, and this time I fall over the edge with her. I bring my lips down on hers. Her pussy weeps for me as she orgasms, soaking me with her nectar of tears.

I collapse to my side and wince when the wounds on my back hit the sheets. Fucking hell, all the aches and pain are hitting me now that the endorphins are crashing.

“Oh my God.” She giggles and throws her arm over her eyes. “Never in my life. That was so good.” The sweet sound of her drunk laughter makes me smile.

Hell, it makes me puff out my chest with the pride of a peacock. I’ve made her delirious. If that isn’t good sex, I don’t know what the hell constitutes the definition of good.

“I’m lucky to have you.” She snuggles up next to me, and I wrap my arm around her shoulder. My thumb lazily strokes her inner bicep. She's soft, silky, heated velvet that I find comfort in. “I bet if Aidan met you, he’d love you. It’s impossible not to.”

Is that her telling me she loves me?

“We’re going to bring him home to us. I’ll die trying, Dawn. Yer my family which means he is my family.”

She sniffles and shakes her head. “I can’t talk about him right now. I feel too helpless. Tell me about you. Tell me about your family.”

I stare up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn in a circle. I haven’t talked about my past in a long time, and I’m not too sure if I want to start now. She’s given herself over to me, and it’s only fair that I do the same. She’s trusting me to keep her safe, to protect her, to bring her son home; the least I can do is tell her about me.

She presses a kiss on the side of my stomach that fixates to the depths of me, settling in my ruthless bones. A lifelong, ever-present, deep-rooted emotion replaces everything I thought I wanted, with everything I need.

Love.

Bikers like me, men like me, we aren’t supposed to love. Our hearts are too wicked, too dark, too far gone for anyone to take a chance on us. No one ever really took a chance on me before, so Dawn jumping in with both feet excites me and terrifies me.

“I wasn’t always in an MC,” I start by saying, wondering where I should begin my story, and I might as well tell it from when everything changed.

“When did you come here? Why did you join Ruthless?”

I let out a sad breath, one that is full of good and bad memories. “I used to live in Scotland. When I was younger, my parents moved to the United States. We lived in Georgia or something. I fucking hated it, especially since my brother decided to stay in Scotland. He was a fighter, the greatest in the country,