by Nicole Snow
Then his hand slapped my ass, making a clap so loud and harsh I jerked on the leather bench. “Ah! Did you really need to do that to check if I'm numb?”
He chuckled. “Nah. It'll be a few days before I can give you a proper spanking after this shit, and I know you're gonna mouth off sooner or later. Preemptive strike.”
Asshole. I buried my face in the leather underneath me, the only thing I could do to hide my smile.
By the time he'd finished, I was out of my mind with pure desire. No, no, that didn't begin to describe it, and neither did all the other euphemisms for dying because I wasn't getting fucked this instant.
Dripping wet. Horny-as-hell. Heat.
They all plucked my nerves. Painted my skin soft, wet, and full of goosebumps.
My own reflection seemed foreign when the mirror twirled in front of me, then angled down so I could see my butt.
“Good?” he growled. “Looks pretty fuckin' amazing from where I'm standing, but it's your ass, darlin'.”
I looked into the mirror. A winged skull with pistols smoking on both sides lay on my upper ass cheek. A proper tramp stamp.
Everything I thought I'd never have on my body, and yet, it seemed right. So strange, wonderful, and wild I couldn't stop smiling.
The text inscribed on the skull's forehead in flaming, tapered black said it all. PROPERTY OF FIREFLY, DEADLY PISTOLS MC, TENNESSEE.
“Wow. You've got some serious talent,” I said, sliding off the bench so I could finally pull up my panties. “I like it.”
“Fuck yeah, you do. Had a feeling you've been wanting to wear my name since the first night I got my hands all over you, babe.”
I stared at the ground, searching for my khakis, saying nothing. He knew me too damned well for his own good.
For some reason, I thought about his time in the service, trying to imagine this big, savage bastard as a soldier. He'd had his share of names, numbers, and tags throughout his life. He'd turned them over for a patch, and a road name, not so different from the transformation happening to me.
It's proof stung gently on my butt cheek as I fastened my belt. He was cleaning up, putting his tools away and pivoting the lamp, when he caught me staring.
“What've you got going in that pretty head?” he asked, giving the bench I'd just lain on a quick wipe.
It needed it, too. I'd laid there for what seemed like a small eternity while he did his work, shaking and sweating, slick between my legs.
I tried to take my mind off it. I walked up to him, laid a hand on his shoulder, and followed his huge bulk as he rose to full height.
“What's your name? I only know you as Firefly. That can't be your real name.”
“Huck,” he said. “Huck Davis. Ma was a real sucker for Mark Twain.”
Huck. Huck?!
I burst out laughing. Wracking my brain to remember the stories I'd read when I was a kid, I came back with all the hijinks and good humor from a simpler time.
Surprise aside, it fit him. Just like a glove.
“Fucking shit,” he growled. “You'd better believe Firefly's the name that I wear proudly. Far as we're concerned, that's the one you're gonna keep calling me, baby.”
“No, no, it isn't that.” I squeezed his shoulder, swept it up, letting my hand wander across his cheek, feeling his rough dark stubble. “I like it. I like it a lot, Huck. You shouldn't be ashamed. It's a wonderful name. It tells me something about the good man behind all the leather and skulls.”
“Yeah, well,” he grunted, collecting his words. “You'd better keep that shit to yourself, unless we're behind closed doors. Don't give a damn what you say when it's just me, you, and a surface for fucking. You can call me fuckin' Shakespeare for all I care, once I'm up inside you, Cora.”
He pushed the small cart with his tattoo tools away, rounded the bench to my side, and jerked me into his arms. We kissed while his hands roamed my back. He fingered the loops around my belt in my khakis, teasing one hand on the upper edge of my ass, so close to the new brand he'd stamped on me.
The tingling sensation teasing me all evening sparked into an open fire. I pinched my thighs together, struggling to contain the heat between my legs.
Fighting for control, and failing.
Just burning, burning, burning.
“Fuck,” he growled into my mouth, refusing to pull his lips away. “Gonna teach you to suck cock good now that you're mine. You'll love it, yeah?”
Yeah. I moaned into his mouth, doing a terrible job of hiding just how hot it made me.
Just thinking about gliding up and down his long, hard, wild length with my tongue, taking him in my mouth, almost caused me to lose it on the spot.
Firefly's hand caressed up, taking my breast in one hand. He squeezed it hard through my shirt and bra, begging me to throw my clothes off again.
I squirmed against him, pushing my hips on his, forcing my pussy to feel his rock hard bulge against my belly. I swore it was about to tear through his pants, and then he'd flip me around, slam me against the leather bench, and own me all the ways we both wanted.
But he stopped. I blinked, opened my eyes, struggling to see through the lust clouding my vision.
“What?”
“That ring,” he growled, grabbing my hand. His eyes had caught it while we kissed, when I'd moved my hand across his face. “Take it off now, babe. We only needed you wearing it as a prop at the Heel, so we could make everybody believe.”
Ouch. My heart sank. For some reason, it hurt.
I knew damned well that it shouldn't. Didn't change the painful reality.
Stepping away from him, I held my hand to my chest, gazing at the small golden loop he'd given me. Our eyes met across the small space between us.
“No,” I said, forming a fist. “Let me wear it, Huck. I want to. I know it seems insane after the way I acted earlier tonight, but it was all so sudden, so crazy, being forced into something like this.”
“You mean wed to me?” His eyes burned, and I nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Darlin', if you wanna keep that shit sitting pretty on your little hand, I'm down. You'll be under my lock and key for the next week or two anyway. Nobody's gonna see it, except me.”
I smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good,” he rumbled, throwing his arms around me all over again. “Because you're gonna look twice as fuckin' sexy wearing my brand and my ring. Don't care if one of those things means something fake. I'm gonna fuck you like it's real, give you everything you're begging for in those hot little lips.”
He buried me in another kiss before I could even speak. All I could think about was having him on top of me, driving into my core while my legs clung to his.
Sweating, shaking, creaming all over his cock. Oh, hell.
Giving it up for him. All to him. Letting him guide me.
Fucking us both toward a future I'd just begun to seriously think about.
Emotions collided in my brain like comets, sending more fire streaking through my blood. I pushed my tongue against his, sucking at his mouth, biting into his bottom lip for the second time that night.
He bit me back this time. Before I knew what was happening, he had me against the wall, ripping clothing aside.
The fresh tattoo tingled as my ass ground against the brick wall, but I didn't care. Firefly pushed his jeans down, rubbing his cock against my melting slit, hungrier than ever to take what he'd laid claim to.
Then he was inside me. One rough, insistent, unforgettable thrust.
His hand went up my shirt, fondling the breast he'd started on earlier, without holding anything back. Snarling, he jerked his hand against the partition in my shirt, tearing it open.
Buttons flew all over the place, clattering on the ground like pebbles. He held me down, crushed my mouth beneath his before I could squeak any protest. His hips moved, pinning me to the wall, fucking me so hard my bones shook with every stroke.
Oh, shit. Holy, holy, holy shit!
“Give it the fuck up
to me, Cora Chase. Know you want to real goddamned bad. Saw you dripping the whole fuckin' time while I put my ink on you.”
His strokes came faster. Harder, like a human piston.
His hips pulled back and rammed into me, rougher every time, an honest-to-God earthquake that wouldn't stop until I gave him everything he wanted.
My shirt ripped again in his hand. Another hand moved behind me, snatching at my hair, curling it in his fingers. He pulled, setting off a whole new series of explosions inside me.
I was going to be naked, without any clothes, if he kept this up. And I couldn't bring myself to care.
Not while I was slumped against the wall, overwhelmed, captured by his kiss.
Not while he crammed me full of his cock, stretching me a little more with every stroke, training my pussy to fit him like we were made to join.
Not while I was about to have the most furious orgasm I'd ever had in my entire life.
“Ah, fuck, you feel too good. Too goddamned good for every inch of this, woman. Gonna fill you up. Come with me, Cora! Fuckin' come, come, come...”
His cock stabbed into me one more time. My feet found their way behind his, and they pinched at his body desperately, while my nails clung to his neck, clinging for support.
“Oh, oh...oh hell!”
Hella good. Fire and brimstone lashed my body in waves when I lost it.
Snarling, he came, filling me with his heat. His seed flooded me, and he drove his cock deeper, grinding that short, sweet crop of hair on his pubic bone just perfectly against my clit.
I thought I'd died and gone to a new dimension where there was nothing but blinding, hot pleasure. Full bodied fire licked me again and again from head to toe. Everything below my waist curled in on itself, pulsing magnificently, just yawning and clutching and throbbing with passion.
In the middle of it all, something wet exploded from my center. I could feel myself coming so hard I gushed all over his cock, wondering if he'd truly torn me open and emptied part of my soul all over him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Firefly held me down as time slowed.
Still coming, still fucking me, shooting his come as deep as it would go. My pussy clenched so hard to his cock I thought I'd pass out, high on his lightning shooting through me.
We lost ourselves in that mad, mad rhythm for what seemed like half the night. When I could finally blink again, and open my eyes without wincing from the shock, he looked at me.
I saw my blue eyes reflected in his, two seas on fire, storming in ways I could barely even fathom as our two very different worlds came together. Or, at the very least, our bodies. Flesh on flesh, burning and pounding as one.
“Easier than I figured to make you squirt,” he growled, running his hand across my pussy as he pulled out, holding it up so I could see the wetness. “Don't you dare blush, darlin'. Get used to it. I fuckin' love it, and that means you're gonna be doing it a whole lot more.”
I couldn't help it. My cheeks turned beet red, perfect targets for him to smother me in a whole new series of scalding hot kisses.
“Let's get you cleaned up so we can ride,” he said, bending over and pulling up his pants. “Sooner we get to Hannah's place, the harder we can fuck in peace and quiet. Helluva a lot nicer than this fuckin' dump, too.”
I smiled as he handed me a towel. I let him wipe the excess coming out of me before I put my clothes back in place, a strangely intimate thing almost as intense as letting him inside me.
He conquered me. It wouldn't be long before I begged him to finish what we'd started in that screwy little church.
It scared me. But fear hadn't derailed me during any of this. My desire to claw my way through every inch of this dark, dangerous underworld only grew, the closer I got to Firefly.
Before, I'd been worried I'd end up a slave forever to the Deadly Pistols MC. Now, I just had to worry about being his – and a willing one.
He conquered me. Piece by piece, night by night, kiss by steaming kiss.
God help me, I loved it. Every time another part of me pulled away in his hands, or my heart collapsed in another avalanche, I quietly rejoiced.
This man, this unreal pleasure he brought, was everything I'd denied myself under daddy's thumb. Firefly's heat burned away the lies, no different than how his crude words stripped things to their truths.
So I walked with him. Rode with him. Gave him my everything as my protector, my lover, my guide.
Where he'd take us in the end, I wasn't sure. But I was ready for the journey.
When we stepped outside and climbed on his bike, I held him tight, smiling as I rested my chin on his shoulder. His motorcycle cut through the darkness, and I marveled at how quickly I'd learned to love its reassuring growl.
His life was complicated and scary sometimes, but it had a certain charm. Firefly owned who he was. He lived honestly, and right now, after all the confusion, that meant the world.
Maybe one day, it wouldn't be so bad being an outlaw's bride.
It had to be better than being a dead, crooked sheriff's daughter. Hell, it might be everything.
My mouth dropped when we rolled through the huge iron gates outside Knoxville. The house was beautiful, tidy, and ginormous.
Its high brick walls glowed in the moonlight behind the lovely gardens, vines and flowers just beginning to poke their buds out after the winter. Huge roman columns held up the roof, and when he took my helmet and guided me toward the double-doored entrance, I wanted to check to make sure we were really at the right place.
Fifteen minutes later, we sat in front of a roaring fire, a glass of wine in my hand and a beer in his. He'd snorted when he looked at the fancy glasses lined up, ripping off the cap with his bare hands and drinking from the bottle instead.
“Sis keeps this place stocked to the fucking brim for all her rich friends. None of that shit ever appealed much to me,” he explained, taking another long pull on his brew.
I put my wine glass down, careful not to spill any. It felt like a wine tasting at a lodge, with all the fancy trimmings and Turkish rugs beneath us. I feared I'd break something just sitting there.
“How did she make so much money?” I asked. “I mean, if you don't mind me asking. I didn't picture you coming from this kind of family, Firefly.”
He swallowed the last of his beer and grinned, slamming his bottle down on the table. “I didn't. We never grew up rich, Hannah and me. She only turned into a hotshot entrepreneur about five years ago, when shit really started going her way. We both chose our trenches. Mine were in Afghanistan, and then all over Dixie, riding with the Pistols. Hers were spreadsheets, computer fuckery, kissing the asses of angel investors for a couple years before she got her app launched. Fuckin' thing must've made a cool million over a month or more, and then some.”
“Wow.” I sipped my wine, loving the quality.
“Yeah. She's got herself a nice little deal with that Ty kid up in Alaska now. You know, the rich techie Sterner fuck you see all over the gossip rags from time to time. Boy married his fuckin' stepsister, you know.”
I laughed and nodded. Of course everybody knew about the Sterner family and all their antics. For every dollar they earned, there must've been a gene for crazy. Except that girl he'd married, Claire, had gotten the fairy tale romance almost every girl dreams about. So the tabloids said, anyway.
“Truth is, I'm happy for her. Both of us grew up in a damned trailer park, our folks living check-to-check, never enough to go around. We barely talk anymore, me being so fuckin' busy with the club, and her being all biz. But we were close once. We both grew up dirt poor. Sis is doing me a solid, letting us hang here like this.” He looked up, the fire next to us dancing in his eyes. “You'd better believe she's the only chick I'd die for besides you, darlin'.”
I smiled, staring into the flames, watching them rolling softly in the fireplace.
“I hope you never have to,” I said. My heart ached when I thought about any pain coming to him because of me.
“Shit, girl, so do I. But I'm ready.” He stood, crossing to the little loveseat where I sat, joining me. “Nobody's ever gonna lay a finger on what's mine. I'm a jealous sonofabitch, yeah. Know how to take good care of everything I own, too. You're safe, babe, long as you stick with me. I'm not letting you go anywhere.”
His arm went around me, and I buried my face in his chest. Enjoying the cozy, warm, masculine cocoon around me was all I wanted for a night like this.
Well, except for one more thing...
My thighs tingled deliciously, meeting in the center where a whole new fire burned. I nestled in his arms, hiding my face against his perfect chest, until I couldn't take it anymore.
When I finally looked up, he read my mind. Firefly held my chin, letting me feel his strength as he pressed his fingers gently into my face. He held me there, poised for his kiss, which came hot, slow, and teasing as he brushed his lips against mine.
I couldn't stop the moan coming out when his mouth covered mine.
“Come on,” he said, lifting me up, into his arms. “Your eyes are bugging out at all this fuckin' glitz and glamor just sitting here. You're really gonna flip your shit when you see the bedroom.”
Oh, God.
He wasn't kidding. Jesus, did this man ever crack a joke? Ever exaggerate anything?
The room where we stayed was bigger than the apartment, and I'd thought that seemed like a lot of space for just him and I.
Here, we had our own sauna, a small bar, and a gigantic canopy bed all to ourselves.
He undressed me before we stepped into it and I watched him pull the curtains shut. A small, blue lamp switched on above us when he touched a button. We were suddenly deep in our own pure world of luxury and desire.
My mind raced a hundred miles an hour, and my heart tried to keep pace, enjoying the wild clash of this bad boy against the sophisticated backdrop. The Ruby Heel tried to emulate this atmosphere, sometimes. Only it came off ten times cheaper by its very nature as a strip club and watering hole for dirty men.