Biker's Virgin (An MC Romance)

by Claire Adams

  After I got dressed, I did the only thing I knew to do that would ensure us a quiet, private, calm conversation: I went to confession.

  Yes, I knew how blasphemous it was. I was on my knees, pretending to pray, and waiting for everyone else to go first so I can have time with him…and I knew how bad this was. When it was finally my turn, I entered the confessional and out of habit I said, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

  “Daphne?” he whispered.

  “Yes, it’s me. I have to talk to you.”

  “Daphne, this isn’t the place.”

  “I know! Don’t you think I know that? I used to be so respectful of the church and all of the sacraments…but then I went and fell for a priest.”

  “Daphne, please, what if someone hears you?”

  “There’s no one left out there. I’m your last.”

  “We can’t talk about this here.”

  “We are talking about it, Jace. I have to get this out, now. I dream about you every single night. They’re not innocent dreams. They’re hot, sexy, passionate dreams. It’s driving me crazy. I wake up wet and covered in sweat and smelling like sex. I can’t get you out of my head.”

  I stopped when I heard his side of the confessional open. He was just going to leave. I was such an idiot… Or maybe not.

  I heard the click of my door and I looked up into his sexy eyes. They had the most intense look in them that I’d ever seen. I thought he was there to scold me, but when I stood up, he took me into his arms and kissed me. His full lips caressed mine and then he used his tongue to part my lips and he slipped it into my mouth.

  He kissed me hungrily, and the idea that we were inside of a confessional, under the roof of the house of God, did not even entire my mind. His hands were all over me, touching me like a blind man who’d never seen a woman…like he was trying to memorize my every curve.

  When he broke the kiss, I thought that was it and he would leave. I was so wrong. He reached back and locked the door to the confessional behind us and then he began to disrobe, literally.

  When he had his cassock and collar off, I was surprised to see that all he had on underneath were boxers. I’d always wondered what they wore under those things. His uniform was suddenly the furthest thing from my mind as he ripped my dress up over her head, flipped me around, and unhooked my bra. Then he brought his hands around to cup my warm breasts.

  I felt his hard body pressed into my back, and I could feel his breath on my neck as he brushed past it and leaned in to nibble on my ear. I shuddered and pushed back into him.

  He growled low in his chest and flipped me around again to face him. He claimed my mouth hungrily, forcing his tongue in and tasting every inch while his hands continued to caress my body. They were sliding down into the back of my underwear as I melted into his arm.

  My body was quivering all over as his hands traced my curves. His mouth found my collarbone and his hot breath left a trail across my skin as he nibbled and licked his way down to my nipples.

  I was out of my mind with lust as his fingers played with the edges of my panties around the tops of my thighs and his mouth found and claimed a rock-hard nipple. He sucked it in between his lips and held it there with his teeth while he flicked it and licked it with his tongue. He moved over and made love to the other one with his mouth, causing my warm juices to flood my panties and slide slowly down between my thighs.

  I felt him grab the top of my panties and begin pushing them down over my hips. He let his tongue play inside my bellybutton on the way down, and then he used his hands to gently part my thighs. His fingers played in the smooth, warm liquid that coated my thighs.

  I moaned and rubbed my hands through his hair as I thrust my hips forward, begging him to touch my pussy. It was on fire. My legs were growing so weak I had to press my back into the corner of the small, wooden closet.

  Finally, he touched me…and waves of electricity surged through my body. His fingers slid across my opening, all the way down, and then back up and across my aching clit.

  “So wet,” I heard him whisper as he stood back up and let one finger slide into me. He worked it in, burying it before he added another. He worked them in and out and I whimpered, almost on the verge of tears, unable to process the sensations he was sending through my body.

  I could feel how hard he was through his boxers now as he pressed into me hard, fingering me and massaging my clit. I whined and pushed him back far enough to get my hands on those shorts and put them down. I needed him inside of me; I was past the point of want.

  I took him in my hand and delighted in the strangled sound that came from deep within his chest. He took another small step back and pulled his fingers out of me so he could push the shorts the rest of the way down and get them out of my way.

  As soon as they were gone, he thrust towards me. His hard cock disappeared between my thighs, and I could feel the heat of him as his hard erection slid across my clit, nearly sending me into convulsions. He reached down and wrapped his big arms around my hips and lifted me up off the ground. He shoved me back into the wall as I wrapped my legs around him, and then he entered me.

  The top of my head nearly exploded from the feeling of his hard cock buried deep inside of me. As he moved in and out of me, he engulfed my mouth once again with his. It was a raw, hard kiss that belied the need between us. His hands were cupping the cheeks of my ass, holding me tightly in place as he drove his cock into me.

  I bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep from crying out. He was so hot…and he filled me up completely. My breaths were coming in little gasps as he rocked up and down, back and forth, grinding his pelvis into mine, giving me every inch of his glorious erection.

  He pulled back and looked into my face with that incredibly intense look again as he quickened his pace and slammed into me again and again. He let go of one of my cheeks and brought his hand around to take a breast in his hand. He kneaded and massaged and squeezed and tweaked.

  I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to control myself much longer; I needed to scream.

  He must have sensed it because once again he covered my mouth with his, muffling both of our sounds. I felt him moan into my mouth as I felt him pinch down hard on my nipple. I was right there, on the edge, when I felt that hand slide down in between us.

  He let go of the kiss and let my body fall back slightly so his fingers could find my clit. When they did, they began to circle, pinch, and pull on it. My hips humped greedily against him as my fingernails raked the flesh on his back. I had to press my face into his shoulder, and from that point escaped my muffled screams.

  Shockwaves began to bolt through my body with each desperate thrust. I could actually feel him losing control as he pumped deeper and harder. I squeaked as the orgasm began to build and hurtle me towards a monumental climax.

  Everything blurred and I could barely see thanks to the sweat that poured down into my eyes. I was gasping as I felt him stiffen up against me, and then it was his turn to bury his face into me to muffle the sounds his body wanted to make with his release. Once he finished coming, I felt him shiver and shake, and then I suddenly went cold as he pulled out of me and lowered me to my feet.

  He bent down and picked up my dress and underwear and handed them to me, then he picked up his own and slipped them on. Still dazed from what had just happened, I slowly began to dress.

  Jace had his robes back on and holding his collar in his hand, he turned to the little door to go. “Wait… I don’t know… I mean, what does this mean?”

  He turned back to me, cupped my face in his hands and kissed me hard. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. Then he slipped out. I stood there in the house of the Lord that I loved and worshipped and waited to make sure the coast was clear…and then I slipped out, as well.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jace

  I prayed every morning and every night, and 10 times in between, but He won’t talk to me. He won’t tell me what to do.

  I
had sex in a confessional.

  I sat there and listened to her talk about her dreams and it sounded like she was describing my own. I felt myself get excited and I remembered waking up with her in my arms…and I just lost control.

  It’s bad enough that as a priest I was having sex at all…but in a confessional? In front of the altar? Had I no decency left at all?

  I didn't know what was happening to me. I do know that I think more about Daphne than I do my faith. I can’t imagine what my life would be like now if she walked away; I couldn’t imagine life without being able to make love to her any longer, either.

  I knew now that when I was with her, my self-control was not just lacking — it was absent. She’d become my sustenance, she’d taken the place of the church in my eyes and she was the one I wanted to worship.

  Had I committed the ultimate sin? Or was this something God would forgive because I honestly thought there is no way I could control it if I wanted to.

  Maybe I wasn’t really meant to be a priest. Maybe it wasn’t so much my calling as it was my escape, and I no longer needed to hide from life. I wanted a life now…with Daphne.

  I told her we would figure it out, but then I never called her. I was so confused. I knew she was, too, and I didn’t want to confuse her further.

  I couldn't let the silence go on, though, or I might lose her. I couldn't lose her. When I thought about that possibility, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

  I had to make a decision. I had to talk to her and we had to come to a decision together. I can’t take this any longer. We have to figure it out now, today. I grabbed my keys and headed over to see her.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Daphne

  The knock on the door startled me. It was loud and sharp, and for just a second, I was afraid that it was my father again. Just in case, I looked through the peep hole.

  It was Jace and he looked upset, or worried. I opened the door and as soon as he saw me, he smiled. I loved having that effect on him, even if I wasn’t supposed to.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” I stepped back to let him in, and he followed me over to the couch. I hadn’t heard from him since the day we had sex in the confessional, but that was okay; I had a lot of soul searching to do over that one. We sat down and neither of us said anything for a long time. At last, he said, “How do you keep your faith so strong?”

  “What?” I was sure he was there to talk about us and figuring this all out. That wasn’t what I expected. I didn’t exactly answer. Instead I said,

  “Maybe my faith is not as strong as I thought it was…considering.”

  He knew what I was talking about, but he said, “No, there is something about you, Daphne. Something that is so special it transcended everything for me. Everything I ever thought I knew or believed in. From the first moment I saw you in that bar…”

  I felt my face go hot. That whole night of the bar started this mess and every time I let myself think about it, I felt so cheap. “I don’t want to talk about the bar,” I told him. “But we do need to talk about what happened in the confessional.” I didn’t want to talk about that, either, but we had to. It was taking its toll on us both.

  Instead of doing that, he moved in closer and took my hands into his. Just that small touch set my insides on fire. “It’s not often, Daphne, that I meet someone your age that just has this…aura of faith about them. I feel it when I’m with you and it fills me with light. I need to know more about that. I need to know where your faith comes from because I feel like I’m losing my own.”

  In my experience with men, which was very limited, whenever one of them wanted to have a conversation with me where we divulged secrets, it usually ended with him running for the hills.

  The only really serious relationship I’d been in ended that way, the second I told him about my life. Then there were the ones that wanted to pity me and protect me. They didn’t understand that although there were times like the night I reached out to Jace that I needed protection, most of the time, I just wanted to be treated the same as everyone else. I wanted them to recognize that I was strong in my own right and what my father had done to me had not made me weak and dependent.

  I didn’t want Prince Charming to swoop in and slay the dragons of my past. I wanted someone who would realize that as horrible as it was, it shaped the woman I am today. I wanted his respect and support, not his pity.

  I wasn’t sure which man Jace would be, but I was afraid either way. My gut was telling me not to go there, and I was usually better off when I listened to it.

  I couldn’t bear the thought of driving him completely away. Something inside of him called to me to, and I couldn’t deny it any longer.

  “Daphne, listen to me, please. I can see you struggling with how much you want to share with me, but I’m having doubts about everything in my life — except you. If you’re feeling the same way, then maybe we can help each other through that. I think we have to tackle that first before we can figure out where to go from here.”

  “I am.” I said with tears beginning to fill my eyes. “I’m feeling the same way. My faith has been strong for a long time, but now, the way I feel about you has overshadowed it and I’m not sure what to do.”

  He was nodding. “I feel guilty all the time about what we’ve done, but there is something still inside of me that keeps saying it’s the right thing; it’s telling me that it’s my purpose, to be with you.”

  “I know. I feel the same. The guilt overwhelmed me at first, but this little voice inside of me kept asking what if you were the one I was meant to be with? What if you were who God put in my path?

  “I wish I knew, but I don’t. All I do know is that I can’t pretend any longer that you’re just my friend, because you are so much more than that to me.”

  “I’m glad you said that about the path. That’s what I keep asking God over and over: if I wasn’t meant to be with you and if this is wrong, then why did He put you in my path and give me these overwhelming feelings for you?

  “There has to be a reason we met. God has to have a plan for us, and I can’t imagine that plan is for us to have this kind of intense experience and then just walk away from one another and go on with our lives as we swallow the guilt.”

  If Jace really believes that, if he really thinks we’re destined to be together, then maybe he won’t run away when he knows the truth. If I am going to expect him to give up his life’s chosen work for me, then the very least I can do is tell him the truth and let him decide what to do with it on his own.

  I took a deep, shaky breath and said, “My faith comes from having nothing else and no one else to turn to. I turned to God when I needed someone to tell my secrets to because they weighed much too heavily on my young shoulders. Things I couldn’t tell anyone else…”

  His brows were pulled together and he was looking worried again. “Things like what, Daphne?”

  I felt a tear slide down my face. “My mother died when I was very young. I’m not sure if that’s what prompted it…or if my father is just a sick bastard who has always been so…”

  Jace was giving me that look that other men had given me — the one that said they may be afraid they asked now. I swallowed the lump in my throat and went on.

  “My father beat me…and he raped me. When I finally got away, I was sure it was because throughout it all, I had kept my faith in God. Otherwise, I believe he would have killed me. I needed a stable parent in my life and God gave me that. I learned that He would love me unconditionally and would never, ever hurt me, so that was where I turned.”

  Jace was staring at me, and I couldn’t read the look on his face. I reached up and wiped the silent tears off my cheeks and waited.

  If he was going to run, it would be now. If he was going to pity me, I would see it…and hear it in his voice. He didn’t do either. All at once, he nodded and said, “That’s it,” in a soft voice.

  Confu
sed, I said, “What? What’s it?”

  “It’s that strength, that will to survive that I see and feel coming from inside of you. It’s immense, bigger than most people and the strongest kind of faith a person can experience. I know this for a fact.”

  I smiled slightly at his analysis. It was the best I’d ever heard and instead of making me feel like a freak, it made me feel warm and safe inside. “How do you know it for a fact?” I asked him.

  “I recognize it because I feel it. I feel it because I’ve been there, too.

  “My mother was a raging alcoholic. She went through boyfriends the way she did liquor and each one of them got worse. My brothers and I were never sexually assaulted, but we were beaten, sometimes so severely that we had to go to the hospital. We all have different fathers and none of us knew who any of them were; that was probably a blessing.

  “She got into drugs, too, eventually. She owed a lot of money to her dealers. I think she worked some of it off with her body and some of it by selling drugs. But apparently, not all of it.

  “She was murdered in the house one night while we were all sleeping. Her boyfriend at the time wasn’t home when it happened. When he got home, he got high before he called the police.

  “Ryan was just starting to pull himself up at the time. He grabbed a baggie of something off the coffee table and spilled it all over. He knocked Ryan across the room and then got up and went after him again. “Max and I got between them, and he beat us both so badly we all had to be in the hospital for a while. By the time we got out, they had finally tracked down my grandmother.

  “Mom had taken off when Max was born and never told Grandma where she was. She had always told us that her mother was a horrible person and if we didn’t behave, she would send us there and Grandma would torture us like she did her.

  “Grandma never stopped looking for Max. Mom wasn’t supposed to have custody of him because she was already a mess when he was born. Grandma had kept in touch with the police for years, and when my mother died, one of the detectives connected the two and called her.