Duke (The Henchmen MC Book 5)

by Jessica Gadziala

  It was so unexpected, a surprised laugh escaped me. The smile I had was big and his hand moved up to stroke over my lips.

  "Wasn't joking," he added, and I felt his fingers teasing the skin near my knee and moving in and upward.

  My sex clenched hard and I felt another rush of wet.

  "Duke, I need..." I started to say, meaning to say I needed him inside me.

  "I know what you need, baby," he said, voice deep and promising. And it was just that second that his hand slid between my thighs and teased up my slick slit, finding my clit and moving over it in lazy, unhurried, gentle circles. I wavered forward, needing to grab his arms to keep me upright with my suddenly wobbly leg muscles. "Something like this, maybe?" he asked. When I let out a low whimper, his middle finger moved down and slid ever-so slowly inside me. "Or this?" he asked, gently thrusting in and out of me, driving me damn near out of my mind with need for release, but he wouldn't deliver it. "Maybe this?" he asked and his finger curled inside me, stroking over my G-spot and making my legs give unexpectedly out.

  It wasn't an every day occurrence that a man could find the G-spot so easily. Actually, I was pretty sure most of the men I had known were sure it was a fictional thing still.

  Duke let out a low, rumbling chuckle, as his hand went around my hips tight, hauling me against him as he moved us both backward. The backs of my legs hit the bed and Duke pushed me down on it sideways, leaving my legs hanging off. He knelt down, his finger still inside me, looking up at me for a long second before lowering his head and sucking my clit into his mouth.

  I saw white.

  It didn't take anything else.

  He pulsed his lips around it and my body exploded into a powerful orgasm, the pulsations deep and hard and rolling into one another for a long minute as I grabbed a handful of his hair, holding him to me as I cried out his name.

  He released me when my body went slack, kissing up the triangle of my sex, then the center of my stomach and breasts, until he planted his hands beside my shoulders, and pushed up, smiling down at me.

  "There we go," he said with a devilish smile. "Alright," he said, pulling away and reaching for my hand. "That was fine for a minute, but you need to get off your stitches before you pull them."

  Orgasm subsided, I could feel how the pressure was making the little black threads bite into my skin and I moved to sit.

  Which, well, put me in an interesting position.

  Because Duke was standing.

  Before he could realize my intention and before I could let nerves about being so bold get a hold of me, I leaned forward and slowly moved my mouth around the head of his cock.

  "Jesus fuck," Duke hissed, his hand landing on my head as his body jolted.

  Encouraged, I took him deeper, moving my head in a circular motion as I started getting into it, tasting his desire and urged on by the way his breath started hissing out of him.

  "Okay, alright, Penny," he said, sounding amused again as he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled back until his cock slid from my mouth. "Fucking love the enthusiasm, but I want to be inside that sweet pussy of yours and if I let you keep going, we won't get to that," he explained as he stroked a finger down my cheek.

  He turned away from me then, giving me a glorious view of his firm ass as he rummaged around for a second then walked back toward me, a box of condoms in one hand and a blanket in the other.

  When I eyed the blanket, he shrugged, shaking it open and dropping it on the floor. "Not going to fuck you in a bunkbed like a God damn college kid. Besides, we need to be a little inventive position-wise," he explained, reaching for my hand and pulling me down with him toward the ground.

  He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me toward him, kissing me hard for a long moment before releasing me and grabbing a condom and quickly protecting us. He sat down cross-legged and reached for me, pulling me toward him.

  Now, I hated being on top. I hated it. It was a mix of all your bits getting jiggly while you're moving and the fact that it hurt my hips and my pace was never consistent, so orgasms were fleeting.

  But I moved where he wanted me, one hand holding his cock at the base, the other right above my butt, guiding me over to him.

  My hands went to his shoulders, his dark blue eyes intense on mine for a long minute. "Take me in, baby," he urged and I felt my insides quiver at his words. And I mean all my insides. Including the ones between my thighs.

  So with that need strong, I fought back the old, familiar insecurity and lowered my hips. The hard head of his cock slid down my slit and pressed adamantly against the opening for a long minute before I pressed down, letting him slide inside, stretching me wide and making my hands curl almost painfully into his skin as I let out a small moan.

  Duke's hand released his cock, settling up on the side of my neck, digging in slightly as I kept taking him deeper. "So fucking tight," he growled and I felt myself clench around him, making his lips tip up wickedly. "You like that, huh?" he asked, leaning forward and I felt his nose trace up the line of my jaw. Then his breath was warm in my ear as I took him to the hilt, letting out a little whimper. "You're gonna ride my cock until you're screaming. And then I am going to fuck you until you won't be able to walk for hours afterward," he promised and I felt myself tighten around him again.

  I'd never had a dirty talker in bed.

  The ones who had tried had done it with hesitance. And there was nothing less sexy than hesitant dirty talk.

  Nothing about Duke was hesitant. He talked about what he would do to me with the confidence that he did everything and every molecule in my body responded to it.

  "Ride me, Penny," he demanded as his tongue traced up my earlobe, sending a shiver through my system.

  My hips moved immediately, his cock sliding in and out in a slow, practiced pace. Duke's hands went to my hips as he moved back and then down until he was flat on his back, looking up at me.

  My movements paused as his fingers started tracing up and down my thighs. "What's the matter?" he asked when I didn't start again immediately. I shook my head and went to move again, but his hands grabbed my hips and held them still. "Penny..." he pressed.

  "I hate this position," I admitted.

  "Baby," he said, shaking his head at me as he pushed up to a sitting position again. "Just say that," he added.

  "We can't..." I started with a shrug.

  "Lots of ways to fuck you," he brushed off the objection as he pushed me off his lap and moved up onto his knees. "Won't be good for either of us if we try to force a position you don't like," he added. "Why don't you lie down on your stomach," he offered, hands moving to my sides as I turned away and lowered myself down. His hands traced down the sides of my cuts then lower, then over my ass, squeezing hard for a moment before his hands went around to my hips, scooting them back and I saw one of his hands plant beside my arm.

  Then his cock slid between my thighs and pressed against my sex, pausing, then pressing forward, sinking deep in one thrust.

  I gasped, my hands grabbing hard at the edges of the blanket and Duke let out a deep growl of approval. "Wanna bet that I can make that throat raw with screaming?" he asked, his cock sliding slowly, almost gently in and out of me, just small thrusts, making my thighs clench together, trying to drive myself upward faster than he would allow. "Let's see," he said and then his pace went faster, harder, more demanding, his hips slamming into my ass hard with each thrust.

  He didn't even slow as his hands went under my hips and yanked hard. "Up," he demanded, voice tight as I planted my knees and pressed my ass up toward him. "Spread your legs," he demanded and I grumbled, liking the sensation of them pressed tight, holding onto him inside me. But I opened them and his hand moved around and between my legs, stroking over my clit.

  "Oh my God," I gasped, my entire body going impossibly tight as he kept up his relentless pace, my moans getting louder, more uncontrollable, more wild than I had ever been before.

  My hips started slamming back i
nto him, demanding release.

  "Greedy pussy," he said, hand gripping my hip and dragging me back into him as he slammed forward.

  And then the entire world exploded; my entire body shook hard as the orgasm slammed through me, a fast, unrelenting pulsating that ricocheted outward, pinging off of every nerve ending, overtaking my system in a way I didn't know was possible.

  It blinded and deafened me for a long moment.

  But when my hearing came back, I could hear the scream that ripped from my vocal chords and new it was going to give me a sore throat.

  Duke delivered on his promises.

  "Fucking milked my cock," he growled as he slammed forward, burying as deep as my body would allow, and jerked upward hard once, coming with my name on his lips.

  And that sound made my heart clench hard in my chest and I realized something.

  Something life-changing.

  I wasn't just attracted to him.

  I didn't just find comfort in his presence.

  I liked him.

  I liked him in a way that was wild, uncontrollable.

  In a way that told me I was teetering at a dangerous cliff with clumsy feet and vertigo and that when I fell, I knew what it would be into.

  Love.

  And that...

  Oh, God.

  I couldn't fall in love with someone like him.

  "Orgasm to over-thinking in two-point-three seconds. That's practically a superpower," he said, sliding slowly out of me and I felt the disconnection with sadness. "Talk to me," he said and I could hear him shuffling to stand, moving away for a second toward the bathroom and then coming back. He moved down beside me, stretching out on his side. His hand planted on my shoulder and he pushed slightly until I moved to my side as well, facing him. "Not gonna have you open up to me like you just did only to shut down on me. Not, at least, without talking to me about it first. What's going on?"

  My stomach went liquid, swirled around in a way that made me queasy. But I took in a deep breath and decided it was always better to ask than stay silent.

  "Why do you have a swastika tattoo on your shoulder?"

  FIFTEEN

  Penny

  He visibly flinched at the question, like it had totally escaped his mind that he even had that tattoo on his body.

  But then, to his credit, he didn't stall or hedge, or try to sugarcoat any detail of his upbringing. He gave it to me with all the gory, twisted details intact from the fights he got into at school with kids of other races to the times he had needed to lie to the cops when they showed up or when a rally got violent. He told me about the awful things his people and, often himself, had been involved in.

  Then he told me about the daycare center, how that was his wakeup call, his final straw.

  Then he told me about how he found The Henchmen, how things just clicked with them. He had grown up in a brotherhood with a sense of loyalty and service to his people. So finding that again, minus the hate, had been the right transition for his life.

  Even if what The Henchmen did wasn't legal.

  He said they helped him get rid of some of the guilt and shame that came from his upbringing, helping him become a better man in the process.

  "Honestly, no one mentions the fucking thing so I just forgot to finish getting it removed," he said, shaking his head at himself. "Guess I need to make an appointment soon."

  My hand went out, sifting into his hair and brushing it behind his shoulder and my heart did that squeeze thing again and I knew it was inevitable. I was going to lose my footing and then I was going to fall. And if the way I reacted to him was any indication, it would be sooner rather than later.

  "See the gears turning. What's going on in there?"

  I shook my head. "Bunch of things," I said, it being mostly true.

  "You scared?" he asked.

  I knew what he meant.

  He meant about the faceless men with guns and trigger-happy fingers.

  And there was fear of that.

  But, more so, there was the fear of getting involved, in loving him, in getting my heart stomped all over, in dealing with a breakup that I was pretty sure might be more painful than any I had experienced before.

  I was terrified.

  "Yes."

  His face softened at that, his hand going out to cup my jaw. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." The way he said it was like a vow. Then he gave me a lopsided type of grin. "I know maybe that is hard to believe given the course of events these past few days, but I am going to keep you safe by whatever means necessary."

  "I don't know if I like how that sounds."

  He shrugged at that. "It means tonight is probably all we get to have until we figure this whole situation out. It's not safe at the compound. More so now than ever since we have no men left to protect it."

  "I have to go to Hailstorm," I said, my stomach twisting a little painfully at the idea.

  Duke winced a little. "Don't look so sad about it. If I can, I will come and visit."

  Visit.

  That sounded so formal.

  I felt my lip curl slightly at it.

  And it only made him smile. "Hailstorm is like a mini military. They all, women included, sleep in a barracks-style room. I don't know if that has changed now with all the women and kids shacking up there. Maybe she let them overtake the medical ward or something. But there is no privacy there. I could come to visit but all we would be able to do is hang out and talk." Sensing my disappointment and likely feeling his own, he leaned forward and placed a sweet, chaste kiss on my lips. Pulling back, he had a wicked smile. "Okay, so maybe I'll drag you down one of the dead-end corridors and kiss you until you can't catch your breath. But that would be about all I would risk there with all those men and women milling about."

  "I want more than tonight," I admitted as I slid my leg up and over his hip, scooting closer and tucking my head under his chin.

  His arm went around my hips, the other hand started sifting through my hair gently. "We'll have more. We just have to wait a bit."

  "I'm good at waiting," I said, my tone a little solemn.

  Duke's chest shook as he chuckled silently. "You'll probably knit a pair of socks for every member of Hailstorm by the time I get you out of there."

  "Shut up," I laughed as he rolled onto his back and pulled me onto his chest. He reached to the side and grabbed the end of the blanket, pulling it up and over me.

  In that moment, I was pretty sure I never felt safer in my life.

  And it had nothing to do with the underground bunker with reinforced walls and a pile of guns.

  It had everything to do with the man who was holding me.

  "Tired?" he asked as my body started to go slack.

  I nodded. "But I don't want to sleep and waste what little time we have."

  "Sleep, baby. We both need it."

  He said it, but I was sure he wasn't going to sleep.

  But the events of the day crashed down on me at once, making my eyes too heavy to keep open. And my body, weak from sex, was in no mood to fight it.

  I drifted off.

  I woke up slowly, sighing out my breath as my lazy muscles came alive. I moved my face to rub up against my fuzzy body pillow.

  But I wasn't on my fuzzy body pillow.

  I was on a man.

  Then I woke up immediately, body jerking up and I pushed up to look down at Duke who was already awake. Or, rather, was still awake. His eyes were heavy, his skin a little pale, the circles under his eyes deep and slightly purple from exhaustion.

  "Out of curiosity," he started, brushing my hair behind my ear. "Do you have some kind of hidden dream to become an exterminator?"

  My brows drew together as my lips twitched. "Um, no..." I said, shaking my head. "Why?"

  "Because you said 'exterminate' really loudly in your dream."

  I felt my cheeks get warm as I smiled, remembering the dream vaguely. "I, ah, was having a dream about Doctor Who."

  One of his brows
lifted as his lips twitched. "That show about the guy with the phone box and aliens?"

  "Yeah, that's the one," I nodded, feeling just a little bit embarrassed that I had actually had a dream about it at all, let alone one I spoke out in to be overheard by the guy who I had just had some amazing sex with.

  Then the smile he had been trying to hold back broke free, making the skin at the sides of his eyes crinkle and his face to look so much more open, almost carefree, than I had ever seen it before. "You closet sci-fi nerd, you," he teased. "I don't know if I can date a geek. It might hurt my reputation as a badass biker."

  "Really? Doctor Who is where you draw the line? Knitting like an eighty-year old is cool, but a cult classic TV show is a no-no?" I asked, smiling big because it was nice to just be able to talk to him, not about his past or the threats around us, but just talk.

  "Maybe I'm into old ladies who knit."

  "Yeah, you did seem quite taken with my grandmother," I small-eyed him, but I couldn't keep my smile in.

  "Hey, she flirted with me first. It was just good manners to flirt back."

  "She was a looker in her time too," I added, remembering the black and white pictures in the big, heavy albums I used to sit and stare at cross-legged in her living room for hours.

  "I bet she was. You have her eyes."

  I did.

  It was cool he noticed that.

  "Will I be able to see her again?"

  "Probably a lot more if you're up at Hailstorm. That place is pretty state-of-the-art. And they have a lot of trained men and women who will escort you where you need to be, stay with you, then get you back safe. Really, you probably should have been there all along."

  "Why wasn't I?" I asked, eyes focused down toward his chest where I was tracing little shapes across his skin.

  "Mix of guilt and selfishness."

  My gaze went upward. "Guilt and selfishness?"

  "The only reason this," he said, fingers tracing the edge of my cuts, "happened to you is because you talked to me. Feel like shit about that. Probably always will. You'll have a scar here to remind me."

  I shrugged a shoulder, wanting to take that haunted look out of his eyes. "Maybe you can give me the name of the dermatologist who is doing your tattoo and I can have them work on the scar." When he didn't say anything, I pressed. "And selfishness?" I asked, maybe needing the ego boost a little.