by Nikki Landis
“Oh, I know you will, angel.”
She seemed a little nervous, so I rested on my elbows above her, kissing her long and deep as our tongues tangled together. Moving my hips slowly, I pressed against her and let my cock rub against her core, stimulating her clit.
“R.J.,” she moaned into my mouth, her hands roaming my back before squeezing my ass.
Using two fingers, I slid around her slick entrance and then gently entered between her folds, sliding in and out of her as I continued to kiss and ravage her lips. Her breath hitched in her throat and she tilted her head back, thrusting her breasts into my face. I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to lick and suck her breasts, leaving my mark all over her skin.
“I need you.”
The feeling was mutual.
Lining up my dick, I pressed inside her only enough to submerge the tip of my cock, rubbing tight little circles over her clit. She cried out, lifting her hips off the mattress as she tried to fuck me and impale herself on my length. It was hot as fuck, watching her body writhe with need.
Without a word, I plunged deep inside her all the way to the base and covered her mouth with my own, swallowing up her cries of ecstasy. My hips assaulted hers as I thrust in an out, holding her in my arms as I sat back and she straddled me, riding my cock as I held onto her hips and guided her movements. The angle meant I was seated all the way inside her tight pussy, and it was pure fuckin’ heaven.
I never felt as complete with any woman as I felt with Cara. Our eyes met and time seemed to slow down, our movements an intimate, sensual dance that prolonged the pleasure and drove our desire higher. I could hardly hold back as I felt her tighten and I knew she was close.
Turning, I lay her back against the sheets, lifting her legs up and back so that she was fully exposed as I plunged hard and fast, pounding that sweet pussy as she grabbed the sheets. Cara’s eye widened and then she cried out my name as her head thrashed back and forth.
Fluid gushed from her center and covered my cock in warmth the same moment her cunny tightened, and I fucking lost it, thrusting harder and faster, coating my dick in her cream. Her orgasm seemed to last forever as I finally tossed my head back and roared my own releases, filling her up with a good seven or eight spurts. I wanted to knock this precious girl up and give her my children. I wanted a dozen babies with her, and I wanted to look in her eyes and kiss her every single morning for the rest of my life.
“I love you, Cara.”
She blinked, tears filling her eyes as I collapsed, pulling her with me. Still lodged inside, I held her as tightly as I could, stroking her cheek with my fingertip.
“I mean it. I love you so fucking much.”
She couldn’t speak. Just shook her head and smiled as a few tears leaked from her eyes.
Cara was my sun, and moon, and stars.
My sunshine. My light in a tunnel of never-ending darkness.
I wanted her, more than I ever wanted anything in my life. Even Rae.
Holy fuck.
How was that even possible?
I never thought I would ever get over my feelings for Rae, but I realized that although I did love her, I was never actually in love with her. Not like Pete. It took meeting Cara and falling in love with her for me to see it, but it was worth it.
The connection, love, and protectiveness I felt for this woman was more than I could ever express with words. Throughout the night, I had her on her back often. And every other way I could get her – on her knees and ass up in the air, straddling my waist, up against the wall. I must have fucked her at least a good six times before the dawn rose and the bright hues penetrated the horizon.
“You’re gonna knock me up,” she joked, stifling a yawn. “Not that I mind.”
“My master plan,” I joked, kissing her forehead. “I’m one part saint and two part sinner, darlin’. That first part is still undecided.”
She laughed lightly. “I don’t doubt it’s true.”
Cradling her head over my heart, I pressed a kiss on top of her dark hair. “Sleep, angel. I want to hold you and believe it or not, I’m exhausted.”
She snuggled into my chest, swirling a finger and I realized she wrote I love you into my skin. “Goodnight, R.J.”
“Night, my Cara.”
Chapter 20 – Valan
“How’s Sophie?”
Charlotte blinked, staring up at me with those same green eyes as her sister. Where Cara was a brunette, her sister was blonde. I had a thing for blondes, especially with green eyes. It was a shock to realize that I was attracted to this woman. I hadn’t thought of getting my dick wet since I lost my ol’ lady a few years ago. Her death shattered my world.
I was a shadow of the man I had been.
For the first time, I acknowledged my loneliness and knew that Charlotte was just the type of woman to bring me out of my slump. She wasn’t just some club whore. A single mother and a teacher, she was brilliant and self-reliant. I preferred my females to be strong and confident. Charlotte was all of those things and more, not to mention gorgeous. I liked a woman with a little meat on her bones. This one had curves in all the right places.
“She’s doing well. Thanks for asking.” Shielding her eyes from the sun, she smiled. “How are you, Valan? No hangover today?”
I shook my head. No more heavy drinking.
“Nope. I’m trying to get sober. Think you could help me?” Yeah, it was a ploy to keep her close, but I did mean it.
“Like an accountability partner?”
“Sure,” I hastily agreed. “I should get your phone number. In case I need support or talked down from the ledge.”
She laughed lightly and I liked the sound. It seemed to land in my chest and made me smile. “Okay.” She swiped across her cell and handed it to me.
I entered my number and name and then saved it, handing her the phone back. “Call me and then I’ll have yours.”
She dialed and I felt mine vibrate. “Got it.”
Neither of us moved.
“Thirsty? It’s pretty hot out today.”
Yeah, I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could. Little Sophie was running around the clubhouse with Leah somewhere, so she wasn’t busy.
“Actually, I could use an iced tea. This weather is scorching.”
So were the shorts she had on and exposed the long sexy limbs that led up to her succulent ass. I was tempted to reach out and grab the flesh, pulling her into my body as I nibbled on her ear. The wild and random thought caused my cock to harden and I nearly growled.
Something about this woman made me want to lay her down and give her as many orgasms as I could. I might be ten years her senior, but I could handle her, and she sure needed a man that knew how to give her what she wanted.
She didn’t know it yet. But Charlotte needed this big Irishman.
And I was gonna make sure she realized it, just as soon as I kissed her and made her mine.
Thank you for reading!
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If you enjoyed R.J. and Leah’s story, please leave a review to help others decide on the book.
The series continues with Sinner’s Lament, Ravage Riders MC #3.
You can add to your tbr list here: Ravage Riders MC
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The Providence, CA Chapter:
Pres – Mack “the Knife”
VP – Pete “Edge”
SGT at Arms – Valan
Enforcer – Tank
Secretary – Ghost
Treasurer – R.J.
Road Captain – “G.Q.” Luke
Member – Bryce “Killer”
Member – Jake
Prospect – Artist “Art”
Prospect – Junior
Sneak Peek at Ridin’ for Hell, Royal Bastards MC
“You don’t want to do this, bruh.”
This piece of shit really had no idea how much I actually did want to do this. I fuckin’ lived for it. Breathed it. Inhaled violence, blood, and death in like oxygen jus
t to make it from one minute to the next. I couldn’t function, couldn’t survive through the day without my sinister addiction. My need to rip things apart and destroy flesh was a basic and integral part of the gruesome monster I had become. Nothing else was nearly as important as the vengeance that focused every fuckin’ decision I made.
Shit. I was created to fuck people up.
And I got off on it like a goddamn drug.
“My pres is gonna have your ass, motherfucker,” my prisoner yelled, spittle flying from his busted mouth. The drool was a mixture of blood and saliva as it dribbled down his chin. My gaze followed the movement of the fluid, almost gleeful at the fact that I was inflicting harm.
“Oh?” I asked calmly, unrolling my bag of delightfully sharp steel toys. “I’ll remember that.” Pausing to scratch my jaw, I shrugged as he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t take it up the ass, boy. Maybe you do? Or your pres?”
“Fuck you!” he shouted, wiggling his body and only succeeding in tightening the bonds wrapped around his thick, meaty wrists. The fucker really needed to lose a few pounds. His chubby gut wobbled every time he jiggled.
“I’m not into men although I do have a club member who is.” Turning to Mammoth, I ticked my head in his direction. “Wanna a treat while I get everything ready?”
Mammoth chuckled, folding his arms across his massive chest as he silently appraised the punk dangling like a hunk of raw beef and stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers. A meat hook secured to the main support beam above held him firmly in place, his feet scraping along the ground with every movement, not quite low enough to stand and much too high to rest on his knees. It was uncomfortable on purpose.
“I’d tear him apart,” Mammoth answered with glee. “He’d be shitting blood for a month.”
Mammoth wasn’t gay but at six-foot-seven he was big as a fuckin’ beast and rumor had it that he was packin’ some serious meat down below. Of course, that was conjecture spread among the little club whores or cookies who kept us all company. But the Scorpions MC member who was cussing us out earlier had paled with Mammoth’s words and didn’t know any of that shit.
Mammoth never changed his expression, just kept those dark blue eyes focused on our prey.
“Let me go!”
A bold and pointless demand. He wasn’t leaving this room. At least, not alive.
I was kind of hoping he’d piss himself soon with fear, especially once he realized he’d awakened to his last hours on this earth when the asshole climbed out of bed this morning. Mammoth’s lips twitched when our eyes briefly met, and I knew he was waiting for the same thing.
We were sick fucks, no doubt about it.
“How many years did you serve in Ely again?” Ely State was a fierce maximum-security prison in our home state of Nevada. Hell, the state’s only death row inmates were housed there. It was no joke.
Mammoth smirked. “Five.”
The Scorpion prisoner went completely still as he listened to our words.
“I can’t remember what the conviction was,” I replied casually, running my finger over the edge of a large hunting knife. “Murder?”
“That’s what the judge said,” Mammoth confirmed, his gaze never wavering from our prey. “Among others.”
“They ever find the fucker you were convicted of killing?”
“Nah,” Mammoth replied with a wide grin. “Too many pieces. Scattered them all over the state.”
That was when our guest decided to start shouting as loud as he could. Gave me a fuckin’ headache. “Grab him,” I snarled as I walked over to a flat, stainless steel table that we used for interrogations. A high, load-bearing ability with a maximum weight capacity of 1,000 lbs. and guaranteed not to break. Or so the manufacturer boasted. It was for made for hunters with bulky, heavy prey like elk or human cadavers that were morbidly obese. I liked the idea of the second option.
Glancing at Mammoth, I was reminded why we needed such an expensive table in the first place. He was over three hundred pounds of solid muscle alone and when he was holding someone down it was imperative the damn piece of equipment didn’t snap beneath the strain. That happened once. Wasn’t pretty. Took forever to clean up the bloody mess.
Chuckling lightly, I picked up a long steel rod used for sharpening knives and a hammer. Walking over to the Bloody Scorpions MC member, I lifted the objects before his eyes. “I think you need a little motivation. We’ve been enjoying each other’s company for over an hour now. I’m getting hungry and soon I’m not going to have any patience left.”
Mammoth was busy strapping the guy down and securing him so that he wouldn’t be able to move while I did my thing. Picking up the guy’s right hand, I pressed it flat against the table as Mammoth held his wrist in place.
“I’m gonna fuck you up!”
“What’s your name?” Mammoth asked, staring down at our prey as he struggled. “I wanna know whose mama I’m fuckin’ tonight after I gut you like a squirming little fish.”
“Fuck you!” He spit in Mammoth’s face and missed as one of Mammoth’s fists closed around his throat.
“Do it, Rael.” My V.P.’s voice was calm, deadly quiet in a way that almost frightened me, and I was one of his best friends. “I ain’t squeezin’ yet.”
Shit. Mammoth was pissed.
Maybe I should have asked one of my Enforcers like Exorcist or Jigsaw instead of Mammoth. His short fuse was gonna explode any second now. Better speed things up.
I settled the metal rod over the center of the guy’s hand, picked up the hammer . . . and slammed it down as hard as I could. A bloodcurdling scream launched from our prey’s mouth as the rod punctured the table and pierced his flesh. The rod was shoved directly through the center of his hand and wobbled above like a floppy dildo. Chuckling, I couldn’t help but stare at the blood that leaked from the wound and dripped onto the concrete floor, trickling closer to the drain I had installed years ago in the center of the room. I was kind of pissed that I didn’t watch my strength and drilled a hole through the table, but my Reaper didn’t hold back, especially when I was occupied with my number one obsession.
Revenge.
“Your name?” I asked, walking around the table and over to my workbench.
All the guy did was yell and cuss, his body flailing until Mammoth began to squeeze. “Last chance,” he muttered. “I’d answer if I were you.”
Choking and sputtering, the BSMC member tried to speak. Mammoth loosened his grip.
“Tiger.”
“Your real name, not the pussy ass excuse for a road name,” Mammoth demanded, shaking his head in annoyance.
“Biff Declan.”
I snorted as Mammoth chuckled. “Your mama not like you any, boy?”
Biff cussed under his breath. “Fuck off.”
Shaking my head, I ignored the agitation that surfaced. I needed answers, not to lose my shit or let Mammoth take Biff’s life before I was ready. Sighing, I picked up a mallet and swung it around in the air.
“Your knees are next.”
The door opened across the room and Exorcist walked in, his bloodshot blue eyes assessing the situation quickly before he snorted in humor. “Thought I’d pop in and check on my two favorite brothers.”
Mammoth smirked. “Right. You’ll get your turn. I want my piece first.”
“What did he do to you?” Ex strode our way, all swagger as he lit up a cigarette.
“Spit in his face,” I answered, trying not to laugh at Mammoth’s expression of fury at the reminder. “But this asshole is mine until I say I’m done.”
Ex nodded, immediately understanding this was personal. I didn’t have to go into detail. The whole club knew my past. It wasn’t a secret.
“My pres is gonna kill every last one of you Bastards!”
Biff must be feeling brave again. Dumb fucker.
Taunting my Reaper was a bad idea. That motherfucker had a bad temper and a short fuse, and he always came out to play. There was a reason I was the club
Sgt. at Arms. I handled the hard shit. The jobs no one else wanted to deal with because it was messy. Thing was, I loved to lose control. When I was angry, my Reaper couldn’t be held back. And then the real fun began . . . only to cause a shitstorm of carnage and destruction that dripped crimson and left everything in ruin.
Sort of like my past.
Sure, I’d been promoted to SAA, but I started out an Enforcer and that shit was in my blood. I didn’t get to play as much as I liked anymore and that had a hell of a lot to do with my personal vendetta. I was only participating in this particular interrogation because this asshole worked for the same guys I was after. The ones who took everything from me.
Rage bubbled under the surface of my skin and I felt my Reaper stir. “How’s Razr handling his new position? Missing Acid any?”
Biff was still for a moment and then started fighting against his bonds again, only succeeding in wearing himself out as he screamed threats and profanity.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, twirling the mallet in my hand again. “Answer my questions.”
Biff glanced at his hand and the rod still anchoring his palm to the table’s surface. He paled a little more. “He’s pissed. Your club is going down.”
“Razr picked the wrong club to fuck with this time,” Exorcist interjected.
“Who’s supplying his whores?” I asked, moving closer and lifting the mallet. “Give me a name.”
“Fuck you!”
Whack. The mallet hit his right knee as I swung, and a loud crack could be heard as the bone shattered. Biff’s screams echoed in the room as I walked around the table, leaning down. “The left knee is next.”
His words were almost slurred from the guttural screams that left his throat and the hoarse tone of his voice. “The Russian.”
I already knew that. Needed more detail. “Which Russian?”
Cursing, Biff shook his head. “Vlad.”
Vladimir Solonik. Russian Bratva or mafia. Fuck.
“When’s the last time he visited your pres?”
Biff’s eyes were glazed over with pain. He needed to answer before he passed out.