by Gemma Weir
Echo’s kiss silences me for a second, but I’m not an idiot, and it’s pretty damn obvious that something’s going on. I focus on Echo, waiting for him to meet my eyes, but his gaze stays locked on his plate and he refuses to acknowledge my question.
I turn to Sleaze. “Sleaze, want to tell me what’s going on?”
Echo’s eyes finally lift from his plate, and he growls at me, his teeth clenched. “I just told you everything was fine, Olivia.”
Ignoring Echo, I stare at Sleaze. Torn, he looks to Echo, then back to me. Sighing deeply, he runs his hand over his face before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re making a pretty bold statement, wearing that cut,” he finally says.
Confusion must show on my face, because Sleaze points to Echo’s leather waistcoat that I’m wearing. “Echo asked me to wear it. Why’s that a statement?” I ask warily.
Anger contorts Sleaze’s face. Furious, he turns to Echo. “What the fuck, brother? You didn’t tell her what prancing about in your fucking property cut means?”
Echo’s grip on my waist tightens. “This is none of your fucking business, Sleaze,” he grits out angrily.
Pushing Echo’s hands off me, I stand up. My movement breaks the angry standoff between the two men, and Echo reaches for me, but I dodge and step out of his grasp.
“Livvy, get back here,” Echo warns.
Angrily, I shake my head and take another step away from him and start to shrug the leather cut from my shoulders. “Echo, I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but me wearing this is obviously significant. You need to tell me what the fuck’s going on, because Sleaze’s reaction says that this waistcoat means a hell of a lot more than I think it does.”
Rising, Echo towers over me, seething with anger. His voice is full of cold authority. “Olivia, don’t you fucking dare take that off. I swear to fucking God, woman.”
“Fuck you, Echo,” I shout. I shrug off the cut, throw it at his chest, and walk away from him. I cross the room to the exit door, but Smoke’s leaning against it with his arms braced across his huge chest. “Smoke, I’m leaving, can you move please.”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, Liv, not gonna happen.”
I widen my eyes, anger pulsing through me. “Please,” I beg, but Smoke just smirks.
“Sorry, honey.” He shrugs.
I take a step closer to the man giant and fight to keep my calm, but lose. “Smoke, I swear to fucking God, I’m gonna cut your cock off in your sleep if you don’t let me out of here. Didn’t you learn not to mess with an angry British woman last time I kneed you in the balls?”
His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t get a chance to respond. My skin prickles in recognition, and I know Echo’s standing behind me. Smoke glances over my shoulder and nods before moving aside.
I rush past him, open the door, and escape. Panicked, I burst through the door and rush away from the building, but within two steps, Echo’s hands are on me and I’m spun around to meet his heaving chest and furious face. “Livvy, I’ve had enough of you fucking running from me. You said you were mine, and I’m making sure that every one of my horny fucking brothers knows it too.”
Ripping my arm from his grip, I step back. Echo steps forward, refusing to allow me to evade him. “What does it mean?” I shout. Confusion twists his mouth. “This waistcoat, Echo. What does it mean that I was wearing it?”
Echo straightens and pulls his shoulders back. Towering over me, his eyes sparkling with intensity. “It’s called a cut,” he replies coldly.
Rolling my eyes dramatically, I sneer at Echo, “Thanks, I really should have invested in that biker-to-English translation guide when I saw it the other day.”
“Livvy.” Echo’s tone is a warning, but I’m too angry to care.
“Echo, you need to tell me right now, what the fuck wearing that cut means.”
Stepping towards me, he crowds me. “It means you’re my old lady Livvy.”
“Old lady.” I gasp. My eyes widen, and I start to speak, but Echo interrupts.
“It means you’re my woman. My property. You’re part of the Sinners now. They’ll treat you with respect. They can’t look, touch, or fucking speak to you without my okay. You. Are. Mine,” he growls.
I should have seen this all coming, but I’m still shocked. “Oh my God, Echo, this is all moving too quick.”
“I don’t care if it’s a minute, a day, or a fucking lifetime. You belong to me and have since the moment I set eyes on you,” he roars, the sound so primeval I stumble back.
Then he’s on me, his lips attacking mine and kissing me roughly. He’s reinforcing his claim, owning me and dominating me. Instead of fighting, I surrender. The moment his hands touch my skin, my anger dissolves and I melt into his command of my body. He lifts me off the ground and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist, his touch consuming me.
All I can think is more. Something about him makes all of my resolve to keep things casual between us disappear the moment he touches me. His controlling attitude and orders make my brain switch off and my instincts take over. I want to give myself over to him and allow him to consume me.
My back hits a wall. His rock-hard cock pushes against my pussy through the fabric of his jeans. Never breaking our kiss, he reaches down and releases his length. Echo pulls away from my lips and wraps a hand around my neck, collaring my throat. Our eyes lock, and my heart pounds in my chest as his cock plunges into me. It’s hard, brutal fucking while Echo kisses and bites at my neck and shoulders.
His voice screams words against my skin, while he slams into me again and again. “Always.” He’s fucking me into submission. “Forever.” His voice is dark and stern. He’s branding his claim into my brain. “Mine.”
Two more thrusts and he sends me over the edge. I scream as my orgasm is forced from me. His lips crash against mine again. He thrusts and frantically slams into me so hard I cry out in glorious pain as another orgasm roars through me. Echo groans, emptying himself deep inside me before slumping down against my shoulder.
We both pant loudly. He lifts his head, and our eyes lock as he leans forward, kissing me gently. “Mine,” he whispers. His hand cups my cheek and gently strokes my heated skin. He rests his forehead against mine, our breathing gradually slowing while our bodies calm from the frenzied sex.
We both groan when he pulls his hips back and his still semi-hard cock slips out of me. Hot liquid runs down my thigh, and I freeze. My entire body tenses, and I close my eyes as panic washes over me.
“Fuck,” I shout. I claw at Echo’s shoulders until he drops me, and I fight to stay upright on wobbly legs. “Fuck,” I scream again, furious at myself for my stupidity.
“Livvy?” I barely hear him shouting, too consumed in my own thoughts. “Livvy, baby, what’s wrong?” Panic is clear in his voice.
I reach between my legs and his sticky cum coats my fingers. Holding my hand in front of his face, I screech, “This is what’s wrong. Your fucking cum running out of me. We didn’t use a condom. Oh my God, how could we be so stupid?”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Echo, are you clean? Please tell me you’re clean,” I beg.
His eyes focus on my fingers, where his cum glistens in the sunlight.
“Echo,” I shout.
Blinking, he looks back at me. “Lift up your skirt and spread your legs,” he says slowly.
I shake my head furiously. “Answer the fucking question, Echo. I’m clean, are you?”
His face darkens. “Of course I’m fucking clean; I’ve never had sex without a condom. Never,” he says through gritted teeth.
My eyes roam his face, searching for a lie, but he looks sincere. Relief flows through me, and I tip my head back to rest on the wall.
“Livvy, lift up your fucking skirt and spread your legs,” he growls. I look up at him. His face is focussed, in full dominant mode. “Now.”
My heart pounds at his command, and I slowl
y lift my dress and move my legs apart. His eyes drop to my thighs, fascinated. He watches as the liquid works its way from my pussy down my skin. He reaches down and caresses me, feeling my arousal mix with his cum and soaking his fingers. “I love to watch my cum drip out of you, sugar. I love knowing that I’ve been so deep in you, claiming you from the inside out,” he drawls.
Rough fingers stroke my inner thighs and start to push his cum back inside me. I’m so focussed on watching his fingers, his voice startles me. “I want my seed still inside you hours after we finish,” he murmurs.
Two fingers slide back into me, teasing me as he strokes our essence deep inside. Adding a third finger, he pushes further, until his knuckles are almost buried. “I’m never gonna use a condom with you again, Livvy. I want to mark you and brand you. Every time we fuck, I’m gonna push my cum deep back inside. I want every fucking horny man who comes near to smell me on you and know you belong to me.”
His words and fingers push me over the edge. I shake and mewl incoherently while my whole body pulses in ecstasy.
I’ve fucked a lot of women, and putting a condom on is like second nature to me. I always wrap up; hell, the club whores spread it about so much sometimes I double wrap. I don’t want my dick anywhere near their nasty cunts without a rubber.
I was so desperate for Livvy, I didn’t even think about a condom. Fuck, sliding into her perfect pussy without any barriers is the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt. Her pussy is mythically good, tight and hot, and fuck, now I know what she feels like bare, there’s no way I’m gonna let anything stop me from feeling her heat on my cock when I slide deep inside her.
The look of panic and fear on her face when she realised we hadn’t used a condom had me feeling like a bastard for not taking care of her. At least until I saw my cum on her fingers and dripping out of her pussy. Then my cock saluted me and told me to bend her over and do it all over again. I’m turning into a fucking caveman, because the idea of filling her full of my seed makes my heart pulse and my pride swell.
My cum leaking out of my woman’s pussy. Fuck, I had no idea that it would be a massive fucking turn-on.
I should see if she’s on the pill, but honestly, I couldn’t give a crap. I want her full of my seed. I want, no, I need to brand her in every way possible.
My future, Livvy, her belly swollen with my baby.
Where the fuck did that thought come from?
I’ve never wanted a family, but Livvy pregnant…. My chest swells at the idea that she might be growing my child already.
Her voice startles me. “I’m on the pill, so we don’t need to worry about me getting pregnant, okay,” she says nervously.
Disappointed, I nod and pull my cut off. I drag my T-shirt over my head and then gently clean between her legs. Fuck, I’m getting turned on again. This woman is gonna fucking kill me.
“Come on, baby, let’s go and pack up all your shit from Mimi’s before work, and I’ll get one of the prospects to go fetch it later.” I guide her towards my bike, but she stops.
“Why would I pack my things?” She sounds confused.
Smiling, I throw my arm over her shoulders and pull her into my chest. “You’re gonna be living with me, sugar. You’re probably gonna need your stuff,” I say with a laugh.
“Echo, I’m not moving in with you,” I say, shocked. He ignores me, placing the helmet on my head and fastening the strap. “Echo, seriously.”
Gentle fingers caress my cheek before his lips graze the corner of my mouth. Silenced, I simply stare as he effortlessly straddles his bike and waits patiently for me to climb on behind him.
The ride to Miss Mimi’s is thankfully short. I hold on so tight I begin to lose feeling in my hands, my eyes stay closed with my face buried into Echo’s back the entire time.
We stop and I jump off the bike and steady myself for a moment before fumbling with numb fingers to undo the helmet. Echo moves my hands and unclips the strap, then pulls the helmet from my head and balances it on the handlebars of his bike.
I step back awkwardly. “Okay. Umm, thanks. I’ll see you later.” I turn to leave, but his fingers wrap around my wrist. My eyes dart up to look at him, and his smile is wide and indulgent.
“Go pack your shit. Then I’ll take you to work.”
I shake my head and pull my arm, but his grip is unrelenting. “I’m not moving in with you, Echo, and I work just over the road.”
His smile twitches before he breaks into a raspy chuckle. “Go do as you’re told, sugar.”
His grip loosens, and I turn, darting towards Miss Mimi’s. Looking back over my shoulder, I blow him a kiss and shout, “I’m not moving in with you, Echo. See you later.”
The door clicks shut, and I flop back against it. Shaking my head, I smile and scoff lightly as I think about my bossy biker. Echo’s dominant personality consumes me. He breaks all my rules, but I like it. I pull in several calming breaths to try and find some equilibrium, but every thought flashes back to him and us.
I glance quickly at the clock; it’s time to get to work, and I rush to shower before changing into denim shorts and a Strikers vest. Sassy heels are swapped for worn Converse, and I grab my bag.
My phone beeping distracts me, and I grab it from the bedside table and quickly reply to a few texts from friends back home.
Home. The UK and my life there feels like a lifetime ago. Echo would never fit into that world.
I catch my refection in the mirror across the room. I’m not sure I fit into the world I left behind anymore either. The old Livvy was prim, proper, and lost. The girl in the mirror is wild, free, and happy. My American adventure might have helped me shake off the lost girl, but Echo’s responsible for the smile.
As I leave Miss Mimi’s, I see Echo leaning up against his bike just where I left him thirty minutes earlier. I blow out a sigh and tip my head to the side. When I raise my eyebrows at him, he smirks in response. “Echo, what are you doing?”
He hands me the helmet and waits for me to strap it on. I stare at it, then look over Echo’s shoulder at Strikers just across the street. “Echo, the bar is just there.” I point behind him, but he doesn’t even glance. His eyes are fixed on me and starting to narrow. “Echo, this is ridiculous.” I sigh in frustration.
Strong hands lift me into the air and place me on the back of the bike. “Echo!” I shout. His lips press against mine, silencing me, and my eyes fall closed. The kiss devours me, but it’s over too quickly, and I slowly open my eyes just as he places the helmet on my head.
The journey to Strikers takes less than a minute. Climbing off the bike, I remove the helmet and hand it to him. He pulls me into his chest; his huge hands palm my arse and lift me onto my tiptoes so he can claim my lips again. “See how much nicer I am when I get my way, sugar,” he drawls.
I raise my eyebrows in exasperation, pull from his grasp, and try to walk away, but Echo’s arm wraps around my shoulders, dragging me into his shaking chest as he quietly chuckles.
Strikers is busy, with people standing three deep at the bar. Turning to Echo, I question, “Bloody hell, it’s only early. Why’s it so busy?”
He pulls me into his chest and kisses my temple. “The night shift just finished at the factory, darlin’. They head into town for a drink before they go home to sleep.”
Brandi busily rushes from customer to customer, and I start to head towards her, but Echo stops me, pulling me in for a passionate kiss. Arousal swirls in my stomach, and his touch leaves tingles on my skin. I slowly open my eyes, desperate to see my desire echoed in his pupils.
Instead of lust, his eyes sparkle with mischief, and warm leather hits my bare skin. I look down and find I’m wearing the cut, Property of Echo bold against the black fabric. He steps back, smiles, winks, then turns and walks away.
My eyes flick from his back to the cut and back again.
“Liv, get over here. Time to work, baby girl.” Brandi’s voice spurs me into action.
“One minute,” I
shout back.
Stomping across the bar, I shout, “Echo.” He pauses and turns. I throw the cut, hitting him square in the face. He holds the leather in his hands as his expression darkens and he stalks towards me. I back away, but he’s too quick. Thick arms band around my waist tightly as he walks us away from the bar and into the shadows at the back of the room.
“Arrgh, let me go,” I scream, but my squeals are drowned out when the house band starts to play. He lowers me to the floor in front of a booth; the area is dimly lit and barely visible from the bar. I struggle in his arms till his hands go down the front of my shorts and panties, cupping my pussy. He speaks quietly, his voice rasps into my ear, “Here’s your options, sugar. You can wear this cut and let everyone in this bar know that you’re mine and to stay away. Or I can stick my fingers inside your wet pussy and make you come hard, again and again until you scream so loud they all hear and know you’re off limits.”
I gasp loudly, shuddering when he kisses me on the temple. “Now I like the sound of the second option, sugar, but it’s your choice.”
His finger strokes up and down my sex, and my legs buckle. “How about you stop being a fucking caveman and let me get to work. Then you can go do whatever it is badass bikers do all day,” I shout.
His growl vibrates through his chest, and he forces me forward, bending me over the table at the booth. “Option three is I pull down these tight little shorts and give you a hard reminder of exactly who you belong to,” he growls.
I push against him, struggling to move with his hand still inside my shorts, but his weight holds me down, keeping me helpless. “Echo, I’m sore from all the times you’ve reminded me already in the last couple of days, so don’t be a dick. Let me up,” I snap at him.
His laugh’s dark and hard. “You’re mine, Livvy, and if I can’t use my fingers or my cock, then I’ll kiss you better and fuck you with my tongue instead. Now tell me, sugar, who do you belong to?”
I push back against him as hard as I can, but he’s unmovable. “Oh, for God’s sake.” I groan. “You, you stupid caveman, I belong to you. Now give me that damn cut and let me get to work.”