by Debra Kayn
Gathering her other arm, he held her hands behind her and leaned closer, putting his lips on her ear. "You're the only one for me, Ace. I've had many women, but not one of them compares to you. Nobody has the strength that you do. Nobody can stop me from making you mine. I don't care if I'm stripped of my colors, you belong to me."
She nodded, swallowing over the lump in her throat. "Please, just ask my dad."
"It doesn't matter, Ace." He kissed the side of her neck. "You're mine."
For how much she loved her mom, her dad, and her MC family, growing up being the center of attention and spoiled changed her needs when she hit her teen years. She no longer found satisfaction from getting her way all the time. Secretly, she wished someone would tell her no, discipline her, and let her know what it felt like to have someone stand up against her...though by her stubborn, strong actions, nobody saw what she needed. She hid her needs, because everyone expected her to take control of her life. Her personality was not one that allowed her to bow down and let others win.
When Ink refused to notice her, and then showed her exactly why he'd pushed her away for all those years, her body woke up. Nothing had prepared her for the euphoric warmth that settled inside her chest when she had to listen and do what he asked. He treated her differently than everyone else and connected with her on a deeper level. A level she didn't even know she had, and he brought that need out in her.
Being strong on the outside didn't mean she wanted to be strong on the inside. She was tired of being the strong one.
From allowing Ink to be strong for both of them, she fell in love with him. Ink wouldn't let her go, even though he'd tried many times to walk away. He always came back, he always texted, and he always took care of her, even when they were states away.
Ink stood in front of her and dropped his hands to his sides. "You're head isn't here with me, Ace."
She stood still and refused to look at him.
"I know a lots going on, but I need you here with me," he said.
She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, struggling to put away all the unanswered questions on what would happen when she walked out of Ink's room. He put her before his MC family, and she was responsible for him risking everything he wanted in life.
"Ace?"
She wobbled on her legs, needing to walk, to yell, to beat the consequences of them being together away. "I know. I'm trying. I just keep thinking this is so unfair."
His hands cupped her face and he tilted her neck, forcing her to look at him. "I can help you."
She moaned in frustration. "Please."
He leaned down and placed his lips on her forehead, holding her still. She absorbed his scent—musk, beer, and a day's work. A smell that'd normally go unnoticed, until he was close, and then it was all him. Because it was Ink and he was close, she breathed him in.
"Trust me?" he whispered.
She nodded. "Always," she whispered back.
He walked around her, never taking his hand from her body. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his touch. Whatever happened afterward, she had faith in him.
He guided her backward, tiny steps, until his body moved away from her as he changed positions with her. He brought her backward and placed her on his lap, directing her legs to dangle over his thighs. The cool air in the room brushed against her warm, wet sex, and her nipples constricted.
Ink sprawled his hand on her stomach, holding her to his chest. "Head back."
She relaxed and placed her head on his shoulder. Her neck arched fully.
"Beautiful," Ink mumbled.
His hand trailed up her stomach, over her ribs, and between her breasts. She shivered, not in fear, but because her body's reaction overwhelmed her. He placed his hand at the base of her neck. His long, thick fingers spanned the delicate area completely. She took shallow breaths against the secure hold he had on her.
"Good girl, Ace," he said, leaving his hand on her.
Supported on his legs, she put her hands underneath her and held on to his jean covered thighs. The tension in her body eased. She pleased him. Proof was in the hardness pressed against her bottom.
Secured in his embrace, her core pulsed. She stretched her back, rubbing against him. Sitting against his rock hard body, the front of her body cried for attention.
"Ink," she said, grabbing at him.
"Settle." He continued to hold her neck and moved his free hand to the inside of her thigh. "I want everything from you."
She stilled. Several seconds ticked, and her body continued to tremble. Finally, he moved his hand to her breast. She jolted in pleasure, sucking her stomach in and pressing herself against his fingers.
"More than fills my hand," he said, on an exhale.
Every squeeze released pleasure inside her. Her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened painfully. She moaned, unable to stop herself from verbally approving.
He removed his hand. She sucked in her bottom lip and bit down, missing the loss of his touch.
"I want this to last." He inhaled deeply. "Never want you to leave my lap."
The heat from his hand came back to her. Her hips jerked forward. Oh, God.
"Not yet," he spoke against her ear, slipping his finger in her wetness. "Fuck, Ace. Always ready for me. Your body begging for me."
"Yes," she mouthed.
He dipped his finger inside of her, the rough skin of his palm brushing her clit. "Wish we had more time, I'd show you so much more we could do with each other."
She wanted that too. They could have the rest of their lives together. All she had to do was show him that any hardships he'd receive from the club for being with her would be worth the fight. All he had to do was talk with her dad, and they could be together.
He stopped manipulating her sex. She squeezed the tears from her eyes and forced herself to breathe through her nose the way he'd taught her when she became overwhelmed. He wasn't trying to scare her, but to teach her to focus on him, to believe that he knew what was best for her. She couldn't control the way she reacted to him.
"I could hold you all night, Ace." He returned his hand to her pussy, rewarding her.
He drew his finger lightly over the folds between her legs, and continued to stroke her. Her lower stomach tightened in arousal, and her limbs went slack. She couldn't think, couldn't focus, couldn't move.
All she could do was breathe and feel.
"Give it to me, Ace," he commanded, taking his hand away from her neck and circling her waist as he continued to rub her clit. "I've got you."
With Ink giving her the freedom to go with the spiraling pleasure he'd created inside of her, her body convulsed in pleasure. Her shoulders pitched forward at the power of it all. Ink held her firmly in his lap, his finger continued to rub her. The only sound in the room was the sloppy noise of his finger in her wetness and her cry of release.
Before she could recover, he lifted her to the bed and stood. She sat up quickly, scared of losing him already.
"Lay down." Ink reached into the nightstand, removed a condom, and stood at her side.
He moistened his lips, waiting for her to do what he asked. She lay back down, grabbing a fist full of blanket to keep from ripping off his clothes. She wanted to wrap herself around him, hold him, and feel his heat, his skin, his pulse.
He stripped off his vest, his shirt, and removed his boots, jeans, and boxers. She wanted to take her time and soak him in. He stood proud and tatted. With full sleeves and chest colored, the only part of him bare to her sight also grabbed her attention. She moaned. His cock, hard and throbbing, stood at attention.
He rolled on the condom. "Get on your knees and hold on to the headboard.
She rolled, scrambling to assume the position he requested. Vulnerable with her legs spread and unable to see him, her body trilled in anticipation, already recovered and wanting him.
The bed dipped and his hands clasped her hips, drawing her ass toward him. His hardness slid between her legs. She pushed back, trying to
position herself on him. "Ink..."
He leaned over her back and bit her shoulder at the same time he plunged inside of her. She gasped, holding still, shocked at the way he filled her. She could only count four times they'd had sex, and she swore she'd never get used to having him completely inside of her.
There was too much about Ink she had yet to discover. She wanted the time to get to know everything about him. Did he wake up hard? Did he like to be touched as he drifted off to sleep? Did he think about sex as often as she did?
She jolted in pleasure when he wrapped his arm around her and fingered her clitoris. She closed her eyes at the myriad of emotions playing over her.
He held her.
He controlled her.
He was inside her.
He looped his other hand in her hair, wrapping the strands around his fist. Her head came back. The prickles of each hair pulling against her scalp sent tingles down her spine. Her ass went higher, and she arched her back. The force of his thrust set her breasts to swinging. She moaned. There was not a part of her that wasn't involved.
Her hands clutched the smooth wood, holding on while her body accepted every pleasurable move. "Yes..."
Her legs trembled, weak and unprepared for his strength.
Her lungs burned without enough air.
Most of all, her pussy spasmed, each tickle of pleasure coursed through her body, pounding in the truth. She'd never experienced anything that came close to the confidence of having Ink inside of her.
"Take it." Ink thrust inside of her, withdrawing, and plunging again.
Unable to do anything more than hold on, she blindly grabbed the headboard and greedily accepted him. Wound tight, she clawed into the wood, panting, reaching for her orgasm.
He set a rhythm that took her higher, filled her completely, and stroked her from the inside. Her body, no longer warm but hot and out of control.
Ink let go of her hair, wrapped his arms around her waist, and shifted his body until she sat back on him and he had his thighs under her ass. She let go of the headboard and let him support her.
Never giving up on her clit, he continued to rub. "Take it all."
As if he, and only he, operated her body, she convulsed around him. She arched her neck, grinding down on him, whispering his name. Pleasure exploded and circled inside of her, and she shuddered her climax.
"Fuck, yeah." He grunted his release.
His cock pulsed, setting her off again, and her legs slid out from under her. Her weight went on him, and he held her securely in his arms.
He remained kneeled on the bed, her on his lap, his hardness inside of her. Every twinge of his climax rebounded in her. She trembled, weak and complete.
Ink's breathing slowed and he lifted her off his thighs, laying her on the bed. She reached for him, and he kissed her hard, and said, "Be right back, and then I'll sneak you over to Kurt's house."
He got up from the bed. She watched him, exhausted and too tired to protest. There was no amount of wishing things were different. She had to accept that the stolen minutes alone with him were all that she was going to get. She sighed loudly, willing her heart to slow down. It'd been easier to hang around him before she turned eighteen. Nobody questioned what she was doing, because everyone believed she was immature and crushing on a biker. Nobody understood that she connected with Ink beyond being sexually attracted to him.
He returned to the room. She soaked in his strong, muscular body. Her gaze lowered to the fine white scars on his upper thighs and she sat up. Heaviness settled around her. How many times had she ignored the ridges on his legs and on his arms under his tattoos? Tattoos meant to hide his scars.
The first time they'd had sex, she'd wanted to ask him about the marks. Instead, she'd traced each one of them with her finger, until Ink realized what she was doing and left abruptly. He'd disappeared from her life for two months.
Whether it was because she noticed his scars or he couldn't face having sex with her, she swore that day never to question the reason he hid his past from her. He did eventually come back, and they'd had sex again. She had her answer on what drove him away. Someday, she hoped he'd trust her enough to tell her what made him into the strong, stubborn man she loved.
She only had to wait.
Chapter Seven
Almost every citizen in Federal—all six hundred of them— gathered on Bank and Cedar street for the Huckleberry Festival, checking out the booths selling everything from homemade huckleberry fudge to cheap sunglasses. Ink sat on his Harley next to Germ and the rest of the Bantorus members. They'd never gone to one of the twice-monthly festivals before, and he saw no reason to come today.
But, the bitches got it in their heads that they wanted to parade around town and drum up more business for Silver Girls, and the men decided to let them get their way. He propped his boot against the foot peg. He had a feeling coming here was all Lilly's idea too, because she was taking Silver Girls to new heights.
"They're asking for trouble," Germ said, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his handlebars.
"Unless we want to spend the rest of the week pulling our pole, we're here to let the girls have fun." Ink swung his leg over the Harley and stood on the sidewalk. "They could've worn something else though."
"I agree, brother," Ink muttered.
Lilly dressed sexy for the occasion in a pair of cutoff shorts with two ratted slashes placed strategically under her ass. Her bare, firm, soft skin showed through, and anyone with half his vision left could make out the fact she went commando for the day. He glared in her direction. Unlike the Silver Girls who wore spangled or sequined or sparkly bikini tops, Lilly wore a black half shirt with two skulls printed over her breasts. If she raised her arms, every man around would get a shot of her braless boobs.
"Eh, they're our property. I guess we shouldn't worry. Nobody else is going to touch them and take the chance of us coming after them." Germ got off his motorcycle and walked down the sidewalk to join the other men.
Ink kept his opinion to himself. Not even his MC brothers would touch what was his. He wasn't letting any of them near Lilly. Hell, he didn't even want them looking at her.
Mrs. Palmer, one of the city council members, waved at him from across the street. He lifted his chin. The young woman at Mrs. Palmer's side shielded her eyes, looked right at him, and followed Mrs. Palmer his way.
He stepped forward and gave the elderly woman his hand, helping her over the curb. "Are you having fun, Mrs. Palmer?"
"It's a good turnout this year." She tilted her head and gazed at him through her glasses. "It's nice of the Bantorus boys to attend the festival."
He grinned, because not many people would dare call the members of a motorcycle club boys. "The Silver Girls wanted to come. We're just here to make sure everything stays peaceful."
"Oh, they're big girls. They don't need protected in this town. You need to have fun too." Mrs. Palmer pulled the young woman up closer. "This is my granddaughter, Janelle."
"Nice to meet you." He dipped his chin.
Janelle's gaze swept him from boots to head and settled on his crotch. Ink inhaled, and let her have her fill. About thirty years old, Janelle's body lacked the curves to fill out her sundress and the hair pulled back off her face couldn't hide the calculating looks she was sending his way. Her grandmother had no idea what was going through her granddaughter's head, but he could read the signals loud and clear. It wouldn't take much to take the girl on a short walk to find some privacy, and have her blow him off.
"Are you going to the dance tonight?" Mrs. Palmer looped her arm through Janelle's keeping her at her side. "Janelle, who is just visiting, doesn't have an escort."
Oh, hell no. The last thing he wanted to do was go to a town dance and put on a show of being a citizen. "I'm—"
"Hey, Ink." Lilly jumped up on the curb and stood beside him. "Kurt wants you. Now."
He nodded. "Sorry, Mrs. Palmer. The Prez needs me, and I have plans for tonight."
Lilly dragged him away. At the end of the block, he stopped her. "Where's Kurt?"
"Home with Risa." Lilly dropped his hand and searched the crowd, avoiding his gaze.
He chuckled, running his hand over the back of his neck. "Are you sinking down to lying now."
"No." She shrugged. "You looked like you needed an excuse to get away from Mrs. Palmer."
"Right." He smiled at her. "It didn't have anything to do with the chick trying to find a way to get me away from her grandmother?"
"What chick?" Lilly raised her brows, but the flush of warmth on her cheeks told a different story.
"You're the only one I want to fuck, Ace." He leaned down. "Half the time, I can smell your scent on my skin, because you're so damn close."
Her eyelids fluttered and she stepped back. "Everyone's looking."
"No one's looking," he whispered. "We could slip out of here—"
"I'm not lying this time. Cutter's walking this way, and from the speed he's coming, he's not here to see if you want to hang out with him," she said, stepping back.
"Jesus," he muttered, pushing his errant thoughts to sneak Lilly into the Sterling Building for a quicky out of his head.
He was already half hard and out of patience.
"Lilly, go back with the girls." Cutter kept his gaze on Ink. "Now."
She hurried off, and Ink turned to Cutter. This watch dog bull shit was out of hand. He stood on a damn public street with half the town within viewing distance. What did everyone think would happen?
"There will be times I talk to Lilly." Ink moved back and leaned against the building. "I've known her more years than I can remember. Even longer than I've known you, so don't bust in here, pushing her around."
"She's the president's daughter." Cutter popped a few sunflower seeds in his mouth. "I'm more concerned about you. No one wants you back to having a warning hanging over your head."
He motioned to the girls talking to a crowd of male admirers. "Why don't you go make your presence known where it's needed? You don't need some asshole thinking he can get a private dance outside the club, do you?"