Princess

by Sapphire Knight

  Confused as to why he’s touching me, I follow a few steps before he continues, “My brother had a few things to take care of, but he’ll be back in a bit.”

  Requesting any details, even something simple like what time he’ll come back, would be a waste of time, so I keep quiet. I know how bikers and their business work, thanks to my mom’s constant rambling about my father and his MC rules. It’s been drilled in that you keep your nose out of their club stuff, not only for your safety but also because it’ll cause pointless arguments.

  The bartender notices Sinner approach and rushes over, ignoring the other customers waiting for their drinks.

  “Refill?” the older lady questions and he shakes his head.

  “Nah. Vike’s Ol’ Lady needs one of those red girly things you make.” Her mouth turns up in a friendly coffee-stained smile, and then she’s off busily mixing liquor and juices for me.

  I wish I got service like that when me and Bethany order. Instead, it’s usually a dose of attitude and a shitty made drink.

  Cutting straight to the chase, I lift my palm up, covered securely with his. “Umm, why are you still touching me?”

  “Just being friendly to my brother’s Ol’ Lady.”

  “Thanks, but please stop calling me that and I’m able to walk myself.” Using my other hand, I point at my shoes. Dutifully he looks down. “See, I have two feet just like you do.”

  He flashes me a hurt glance about to say something, but the bartender approaches stealing his attention. Once he’s thanked her and has my fruity drink in hand, he starts to tug me along toward the back tables.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You can come sit with the brothers while you wait. No one will bother you back here.”

  “Oh. They won’t mind?” I’ll admit it’s nice of him to offer. Getting attacked by the creep was traumatic enough that sitting at the bar alone is slightly intimidating even if I am inside and surrounded by people.

  “Nah, they’re cool.”

  “And Viking?” I only ask because I’ve seen how he acts when another male’s within two feet of me.

  “Trust me; he’ll appreciate you being at our table when he gets here.” He plays it off as a random idea, but I figure it’s so he can keep an eye on me for his brother; either way, though it’s a win-win for me. I get to relax with a few free drinks and at the same time know I won’t be harassed again.

  Two sex and the beaches later, along with an abundance of information on the guy’s latest conquests, and I can understand why Viking rides with them. Sure they’re scary looking and at times crude, but overall there’s a strong bond forged. Their easygoing nature and friendship with each other are enough to make any outsider want to be included.

  With the vodka and sweet juice mixture working its magic over my self-preservation, I interrupt their banter by blurting out the thought that’s been running through my head all day. “I need to break it off with Viking. It was only supposed to be a one-night stand, yet I’ve seen him a few times in the past couple of weeks and then there’s tonight.”

  Collectively, the entire table of men quiet. Each one is staring me down, looking as if I have the plague, and they don’t know what to do with me exactly.

  “I tried to after what happened the other night, but then he showed up where I live, and I’m sure you know he’s persuasive when he wants to be.”

  Spider cracks a smile, thawing the frigid awkwardness I’m suddenly surrounded with.

  Taking a large gulp, I stammer on, “The man’s beyond bossy. He’s temperamental and demanding and….and each time I stand up to him, I swear he grows an extra five feet tall.” Flailing my hand dramatically, a few of the guys’ expressions lighten, amused at my description of their brother.

  Scot, the older red-haired biker laughs to himself and Spider speaks up. “So, you’re saying that you stand up to him?” His irises sparkle as he glances briefly at his brothers like he’s conveying a silent message that I’m not privy to.

  “Of course, I do. Don’t you?”

  The table erupts in loud chuckles and Spider nods, laughing with them. “No wonder he can’t leave you alone.”

  “Aye, ‘tis a good thing,” Scot agrees, winking like he’s proud of me.

  They move on, picking their previous conversations back up without skipping a beat, and I grow quiet with my thoughts. Staring out the dingy pane of glass in the window beside me, my original plan that Bethany came up with plays through my mind again. Only now I feel incredibly guilty when I think of it instead of excited. Not guilt for my father, but for planning on using Viking. I should be happy right now, being one step closer to making my father miserable, but I know to do that, I’d have to give up Viking.

  What do I want more? Viking? Or revenge?

  It’s been no time at all; how can this even be an issue already? Sure, I’ve seen him a few times over the past few weeks, but think of those times. One was me escaping and being too chickenshit to speak to him. The second time, I was taunting him and got freaking attacked, which he saved me from, thank God. The third time, I teased him to no end with Bethany, turning him into some kind of amazing sex god who fucked me in front of a room full of people. The last time I saw him, he mauled me, thinking I was sleeping with someone, and then stormed off.

  Yep, that’s the extent of our relationship. It’s been the most thrilling, life-changing experience of my life so far. What in the hell is he going to do to me if we stay together for six months? I’d be completely ruined for anyone else. Like he wanted to happen when we slept together, it’d happen with my heart as well. My vagina’s already given up; she was waving the white flag the first time she saw him.

  My heartbeat starts pounding stronger in my chest as I watch Viking pull into the gravel parking lot, rolling to a stop under the bright street lamp.

  Minutes pass with him remaining on his bike, not moving to dismount. I can’t make myself turn away nor do I want to, as I watch him eagerly. His ominous figure practically glows from the lamp overhead and the pitch blackness fanning out behind him, makes him appear incredibly powerful. Something must be on his mind to just sit there, lonely, not hurrying in for a drink. He knows I’m here.

  I can’t wait any longer. I talk a good front in my mind and to him, but every time I see him, my insides melt. He’s like gravity, keeping me to him, even if I try to jump.

  Leaving my seat without another thought, I weave around people trying to play pool and dance. My legs dutifully carry me through the bar and outside until I’m left standing in front of Viking, feeling more feminine than ever next to the powerful rumble of the huge machine between his legs and his needy gaze.

  My mouth parts, drawing in a swift breath as I’m close enough now to notice the blood splatter that’s covering his jeans and arms. Suddenly my mind’s plagued with memories of the first time I met him. The image of Viking gripping the man by the throat, and then staring at my exposed chest is almost too much to think of. He may have saved me, but I could read it in his intense glare that he wanted to take me just as badly as my captor had.

  “Get on.” He breaks the silence, and I swallow.

  “I don’t ride.”

  Viking’s nostrils flare as he revs the engine louder. “Didn’t ask. Now climb on.”

  The liquor in my system does the trick, providing me with enough courage to place my palm on his solid bicep. Holding on securely, I swing my leg over the back. I’ve seen my dad and brother mount their bikes countless times, so I have a general idea. There’s not much of a seat for me, just a small piece of padding wrapped tightly in black leather.

  His other hand reaches back, landing on my exposed thigh, warming it instantly with his touch. Gripping my leg firmly, he slides my body forward until my breasts are molded against his back, and then he wraps my arms securely around his muscular torso.

  Viking’s so solid; holding him to my body like this makes me feel the safest I’ve ever been. I know I’m with a man who’s able and wi
lling to protect me; he’s in control, and he’s already made me his. He’s also everything that I’ve never wanted but is turning out to be everything that I’ve always needed. I can feel myself healing. In just a short time, he’s helping my anger fade away, replacing it with his heat.

  Viking’s movements are so quick and efficient it takes me by surprise, and the next thing I know, we’re entering the highway with me holding on for dear life.

  Too scared to look around at first, I take in the broad stretch of the endless dark sky above us. The stars twinkle proudly as he takes his time, steadily increasing our speed and making the ride pleasant. I’ve never ridden a bike before and with Viking being a seasoned rider; I’m guessing he can tell. Most people would never believe me if I was to admit I’d never been on a bike before, being the daughter of an MC President.

  After about ten minutes of the quiet highway, my muscles and grip on him start to relax as I grow more comfortable being behind him. Laying my temple against him, I close my eyes and just breathe, taking in the peacefulness of the whole experience. Once we started going faster, the stuffy Texas air swiftly morphed into what I’d imagine a thousand butterflies kissing my skin would be like.

  Time passes all too soon it seems, and I feel him start to slow down. Parting my lids, my senses become overwhelmed. The leather on his cut hits my nostrils, along with an undertone of exhaust, the humming vibrations growing stronger each time he downshifts sending delicious pulses to my core.

  My pussy grows wetter with each passing mile, a sinful torment as I do my best not to squirm and chase my pleasure. The last thing I want is to cause a wreck when he’s showing me this other side to him. He’d probably never forgive me for ruining his motorcycle and this beautiful night. Judging by the blood decorating his clothes, it wasn’t so pleasant for someone else.

  At a bump in the road, Viking’s bike shifts, the movement causing a powerful enough tremor to hit my clit. He must hear my whimper escape because he slows down, pulling off at the first abandoned dirt road he finds.

  The bike comes to a complete stop and my heart pounds so erratically he has to be able to feel it against his back. My breath comes in silent pants; I’m so damn turned on after the sweet torture my pussy was just put through.

  “Get off,” He barks, causing me to jump.

  “Ex-excuse me?”

  “You heard me; get off the fucking bike, Cinderella.”

  At his words, I suddenly feel like there’s a frog in my throat. I don’t know whether to laugh at his nerve for ditching me way the fuck out here or cry. I’ll most likely scream and throw what I can at him but then I’ll get so angry that I’ll end up crying. Who can blame me, though, we’re out in bum fuck Egypt, surrounded by fields. It’d be pitch black if it weren’t for the million stars and nearly full moon. With my luck, I’ll be hoofing it home and get so nervous; I’ll have a full-on anxiety attack and pass out on the side of the road.

  Carefully I dismount, watching, so I don’t graze any of the pipes or engine with my legs. That would be a miserable reminder of tonight. I learned about them getting hot when Brently was a kid and burnt his hand on my dad’s pipes. That ER visit took forever as my mom kept having to explain that she didn’t burn or abuse her kids.

  Standing beside his massive thigh, I prop my hands on my hips and hit him with a glare that’s so cold you’d think he’d turn to ice. “You have a lot of nerve.”

  “That so?” His gaze flicks to mine, eventually dropping to run over my body.

  “Hell yes. I can’t believe you’re actually kicking me off your bike here,” I retort angrily, gesturing to the emptiness around us.

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been rubbing your tits all over my goddamn back. Your nipples are so fucking hard; I can feel them through my fucking cut!” he shouts back fiercely.

  “My nipples? You have got to be joking right now. If you weren’t too busy driving like some kind of maniac maybe, the wind would be warmer!”

  “So it’s my fault?”

  “Of course. You’re the one who brought me out here. I told you back there that I. Don’t. Ride.”

  Viking peers down at me with his mouth drawn in a stern line, making me feel like I’ve been naughty and now I’m in trouble and about to be punished. It almost makes me want to lash out at him some more to see what happens.

  Those thoughts flourish as his massive hand shoots out, snatching my bicep with rough precision. He yanks me toward him like I’m some rag doll, weighing nothing at all. Unable to catch myself quickly, my stomach collides with his thigh. The impact is forceful enough that it damn near steals the breath from my lungs.

  I should be furious with him for manhandling me each time a situation escalates, but being so close to him has pure carnal desire running rampant through my veins. Beating my fists on his solid pecs, I halfheartedly shove against Viking and prepare to let loose an outraged scream. Pretending to fight and struggle like this, will only spur him on further until he satiates the ache building between my thighs the bike ride initiated.

  On our first night, he had to hold me still as he took my virgin ass. I’ll never forget how thick Viking’s cock grew when I’d whimpered and attempted to move away. He’d stopped at first to try and ease the ache by coating the rim, inside and around my tiny puckered entrance. It felt sinful and erotic having him use the warm cum he’d filled my pussy with moments prior.

  I’d begged, offering my mouth and pussy again while he’d worked his way in slowly. Then my tears came, and he fucked my virgin hole like a man obsessed. Fuck, it hurt but eventually his skilled fingers played with my clit until he had me calling out in ecstasy.

  My cheeks blush, thinking about that once-untouched area, now fully being his. Someday he may want it again. I know it’ll hurt for a while until I’m used to it, but I don’t care, it’s worth it.

  As if Viking can read my thoughts, his mouth slams down on mine, ravishing my lips like he’s famished and can’t get enough. His dark scruffy jaw prickles my sensitive skin and turns me on more, knowing he’s one hundred percent man. I love it when he’s this way. There’s nothing soft when he gets like this. His muscles are like rocks, his kisses relentless, his movements harsh, and his cock stiff.

  One hand tangles in my long hair, gripping it tightly against my skull as his tongue takes mine hostage, demanding it to surrender to him.

  Meeting his hunger, my tongue twists with his, hoping to entice him even further. My body’s brimming with so much need that if he brushes against my pussy, I’m going to come.

  He frees my arm to grab the front of my shirt roughly where they cover my breasts, twisting the material tighter against my skin. Viking’s mouth overtakes my every thought as he kisses me crazily, sucking my bottom lip between his and then pulling away to nip at my top one playfully. Not ready for the erotic moment to end, I draw his tongue into my mouth, sucking and rimming it like I would his cock, greedily taking whatever I can.

  Within seconds, he’s breaking off our lip-lock, panting and flushed. The crimson coloring his cheeks, more pronounced from the pale moon, reveals that he wants it just as badly as I do.

  My mouth’s left tingling in his absence, the rough whiskers bestowing a bittersweet memory as the night air tickles my skin. His soft lips leave mine behind, swollen and eager for more. I refuse to beg no matter how badly my body wants me to.

  Viking’s dark gaze drops to my chest, enraptured as my breasts rise and fall from my excitement. “You’re not wearing a bra,” he murmurs absently, and I shake my head out of habit, not needing to respond. The evidence is clear with my peaks stiffly pleading for his attention. He loves my breasts; I left my bra at home purposefully for him.

  He clears his throat, his voice gruffer than normal as he demands, “I’ve got what you need, climb on.” He leans back some more, sliding closer to where I was sitting on the way here.

  Viking turns my body and then lifts until I climb back on the bike. This time, I’m facing the handlebar
s like I’m the one driving us. Staring out at the openness in front of me, I begin to panic. “I can’t drive.” Plus, his bike’s massive, literally the biggest I think I’ve ever seen.

  A deep chuckle comes from behind me as I feel his large, warm palm rest between my shoulder blades. “Baby, you’ll never drive my bike. You belong on the back. And before you lash out with some smartass retort, I mean that in the best fuckin’ way, just trust me.”

  He puts pressure on my back, having me lie forward until my breasts rest against the still warm tank of his bike. I’m curious what he plans to do. He probably should’ve taken my shorts off prior to me climbing on if he’s going to have me from behind.

  “What are you doing?” I mumble, laying my cheek on top of my fingers in case there’s grease or something on the tank.

  “I’m taking care of you like I should’ve done the moment I saw you.” His hands grip my hips, lifting them up until each of my thighs rest on top of his, and my ass is slightly elevated. “Hold still until I say otherwise.”

  “Why, what are you doing?”

  “Just hold still or it’ll hurt.”

  Well, that’s reassuring.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I hold it in, waiting for whatever he’s about to put me through. There’s no telling, but when it comes down to it, I trust him. Something cold and metal touches the inside of my thigh, kind of like a cool pen tip. He moves it more forcefully, a ripping sound happening along with air finding places it previously couldn’t get to. It takes an abundant amount of control for me to hold still and not freak the hell out as I finally come to the conclusion that he’s using his large hunting knife between my thighs, sawing away at a pair of my favorite shorts.

  “I could have taken them off,” I whisper.

  “Shhh, Cinderella. This way I get to that dripping wet cunt, and I also get to play with my favorite knife.” Once he slices through my shorts completely, he pushes the material up, leaving my ass cheeks on display in the moonlight.