Lucky: Furious Skulls MC (A Bad Boy MC Biker Romance)

by Daniela Jackson

  We both want the same in life.

  Warmth fills my heart. I sit on my heels and throw my arms around his neck. I plant a kiss on his cheek.

  “I love you, Asher. I will always love you.” My declaration feels natural like I’ve said it to him a hundred times.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  It’s strange, but I’m so certain I love him. I know nothing about him or our marriage or our past, but I know this beautiful thing between us is real.

  It needs work though. Communication. Honesty.

  Right. My husband can’t communicate at all. He loves me in a very practical and mysterious way. It’s wonderful, but we need to get to know each other better. Secrets shouldn’t shadow our relationship.

  Chapter 10

  Asher

  She makes me feel so fucking happy. I don’t take any painkillers but her genuine concern just melds my heart. It’s nice to be looked after for a change.

  Sabrina just wanted more and more. Very rarely did she give anything back. She wanted money, compliments, a well-mannered guy in an expensive suit during the day and a rough biker during the night. Very fucking undoable. I’m no CEO. I’m just a simple guy who rides a bike. Sabrina wanted respect, but she didn’t respect my efforts. She wanted admiration. Envy in other men’s and women’s eyes. I wanted solitude and simple life problems, like your babies waking you at night for example.

  Michelle seems like an honest girl who’d give you everything not expecting you to give anything back. I love it.

  Why did such a nice girl drown in shit?

  It doesn’t matter now. It’s sorted once and for all.

  We matter. Our love matters.

  We drink coke and kiss and grope. First customers start arriving at the bar, but Michelle and I are in another dimension.

  I’m so hard for her it hurts.

  Blaze sneaks onto the couch at her other side. “Enjoying the afternoon?”

  “Yes,” Michelle answers.

  “Good.” He nods several times as he sips his beer.

  He’s happy for me, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.

  I go to the bathroom. As I walk out of it, Blaze is waiting for me. I see Tasha chatting to Michelle, so I jut my chin out.

  “What’s up, old man?”

  Blaze pats my shoulder. “Just wanted to chat with you for a minute.”

  “About?”

  “Everything according to plan?”

  “Yeah, so far.”

  He squeezes my shoulder. “She is…”

  “What?”

  “She’s different to Sabrina. Very modest and kind.”

  “Told you.”

  “Give it time, Asher. Don’t rush anything.”

  “I know what to do with my own wife.”

  He squeezes my shoulder again, nodding as a good grandpa would, and he walks off.

  I return to my wife and pull her towards the dance floor. Romantic music is playing, deep, sensual vibes, so I bury her in my arms. I never dance, but I want to dance with my wife.

  “I can’t dance,” she says as panic coats her voice.

  “You’re better than me.” I kiss her on the top of her head. We sway for a moment, my hands on her ass. I squeeze her lush globes and my hard dick demands attention. “I need to fuck, baby. I need you to be a good wife for me.”

  She shivers in my arms.

  I drag her over to the storage room and close the door behind us. “Just lower your jeans and panties, Michelle.”

  “I—“

  “You said you wanted to be a good, supportive wife.” I unbutton my jeans and my hard cock springs free. I give it a squeeze. “Turn around and put your hands on the table.”

  She does as she’s told. Good girl. So pleasantly supportive.

  Michelle

  He grips the back of my neck and pins me down to the table. It scrapes against the stone floor as dust tickles my nostrils. I feel Asher line his cock up with my entrance and he pushes in. He fills me in one thrust. I yelp at the pain from his intrusion. God, he is so big.

  I feel stretched, teetering between pain and pleasure.

  Asher lifts my knee and puts it on the table as he rests his other elbow by my head. His frame crushes mine.

  “So many weeks without you,” Asher rasps, desire burning through his voice.

  It’s madness. Every nerve of my body can sense the wild need in him.

  I’m mad about him.

  Is this true?

  Is this happening?

  It’s almost too good to be true.

  I’m a wife. My husband is so hot. So gorgeous.

  He thrusts into me so deep that I almost black out. His fingers slide down my mound. He searches for my clit and pinches it. The jolt of pleasure surging through me is so intense that I almost reach my peak.

  I love what he’s doing to me.

  I can’t deny my need for this insanity.

  I’m a wanton woman.

  “Come for me,” Asher demands, working my clit harder.

  I feel like I’m rising, heat swelling inside of me. I explode.

  Asher pushes into me hard and starts moaning. I’ve never heard anything more sexy than those sounds coming out of his mouth. The table screeches against the floor as our bodies move in a primal rhythm.

  “Fuck,” my husband growls.

  His cock thickens inside me and his hot come fills me.

  Asher

  We shuffle over to the bedroom. Michelle falls asleep five minutes after she’s entered it. I drop off to sleep ten minutes later.

  I’m the first to wake up, and I crawl on top of her as soon as she opens her eyes. I need her so damn very much. I shove my hard cock into her pussy and she digs her fingers into my shoulders. Her face sharpens, her sleepy eyes wide, as a gasp leaves her sweet mouth. We fuck fast and hard, but I need more. I don’t know. I need more and more of her. All of her. I pull out of her and tumble her over so she’s on all fours. She smells of her own musk. Kneeling behind her, I dip my finger into her juices. I circle her tight hole and slide my fingertip inside it. Michelle gasps and tenses. Her eyes seek mine.

  “You’ll love it,” I say.

  “I—“

  “I know what to do. You just enjoy it.”

  She nods as I slide my finger deeper into her tight hole and stretch her in circles. Her ass is so tight I feel insane. Her ass is mine.

  I rub my thumb against her clit and she moans.

  “You see, Michelle?” I plant a kiss on her ass cheek. “I know how to make you feel good.”

  I slide two of my fingers into her other hole and she stiffens.

  Michelle

  It feels different. Not to mention that I should be ashamed of myself because I like this decadent pleasure.

  Asher works me gently and the stinging pain from his intrusion fades. I want more. I shove his hand away from my pussy and touch myself. I’m his wife. He’s my husband. We have the right to freedom in our bedroom.

  I like our lack of restraints. Sex is very important in marriage and ours is wonderful.

  I feel the head of his cock touch my other opening. I suck in a breath as he pushes in. The pain makes me whimper.

  “Michelle?”

  “It hurts.”

  “Breathe, okay? I’ll be very gentle.”

  So, I try to breathe. My insides feel like somebody is slicing them and pulling them out and only the head of his cock is buried inside me. My throat pulses. Asher stops moving as a low growl leaves his mouth. I’m bathed in pain, but stroking my clit helps. Oh helps so much my pain turns into pleasure.

  Asher rocks his hips, pushing slowly into me. He buries his length inside me, giving me another wave of pain.

  “You’re big.” I chuckle through this pain.

  “You’re tight. We’re a perfect match.” He stops moving again.

  A thought flashes through my mind. Is this how we fuck regularly?

  Asher thrusts into me slowly and I yield mys
elf to him. At first, his cock sliding in and out feels kind of foreign. I stroke myself faster like my primal instincts are guiding me and it’s better. I fall into this abyss of intense sensations. I’m engulfing Asher’s cock with my body like never before. We’re so close in this dirty intimacy. So merged.

  I hear him moan. I moan. He picks up the pace. I scream out my orgasm.

  Asher

  I empty myself inside her and pull out. We collapse on the bed, clenched tight. The smell of sweat and sex hangs heavy in the air as our gasps and sighs form a bubble around us. It feels so fucking good to have your woman sated beside you. The sight of her flushed face after she has had an orgasm feeds the possessive, haughty animal inside of me.

  “Told you,” I say.

  She mumbles something and curls up into my chest.

  We have a nap and get up in the late afternoon. Michelle’s stomach growls so I shower and go downstairs to get some food for us. We eat and make ourselves ready for our ride home.

  Blaze comes out of the clubhouse to say his goodbyes. “Give me a grandson,” he says.

  Michelle’s cheeks flush and she drops her head.

  “We’ll give you five grandchildren, Dad.” I extend my arm to shake hands with him.

  I sit Michelle on my bike and settle myself in front of her. Blaze nods several times, joy written all over his face.

  I’ve never thought much about our relationship. He’s my dad. He’s been my dad for as long as I can remember. He didn’t adopt me officially but Abramo was very useful in providing us with all the required fake documents.

  My adoptive father was a piece of scum. My mother was no better. They adopted me because it was trendy in their social circle and my mother couldn’t have children. Yeah, they were very blunt about it.

  Blaze and I talked about my adoptive dead parents only once.

  “You can have a good life here,” he said. “But it’s up to you.”

  I hated my dry, strict grandmother who was also my adoptive mother’s mother, so I said, “I want to stay with you.”

  “Alright. It’s sorted then.”

  So, I stayed.

  I never reunited with my biological family. I never wanted to.

  Blaze is my family.

  My real name is Andreas Solberg, but I prefer my fake name Andrew ‘Asher’ Connon.

  Michelle

  The bike shoots forward. I cling to my husband so drunk on his closeness. So happy.

  So wrecked.

  My pussy is still burning. My ass is still burning.

  The thoughts about our sex cause my heart to beat faster. It was so intimate. So filthy.

  Two hours later, we stop to eat lunch in a small cafe and then continue our journey home for three more hours.

  As I flop from the bike in the late afternoon, my muscles start aching, but my eyes drink in every detail of my house. It looks quite spacious.

  I sigh as we enter it and my eyes sweep over the light hall with modern furniture and a crystal chandelier. The wooden floor shines like a mirror.

  “So?” Asher wraps his arms around me from behind.

  “It’s light and tidy. I like it. Love it.”

  He leads me upstairs to show me our bedroom. A squeal of joy leaves my mouth as I roam my eyes over the walls.

  “Beautiful, Asher. So beautiful.”

  “Everything for my pretty little wife.”

  I feel at peace in here.

  I have no doubts.

  Asher and I are madly in love with each other. We have a beautiful life in our beautiful house.

  There’s a voice in the back of my head. It whispers to me, poisons me and brings doubts to my head. It’s whispering it’s too good to be true. I kill off that voice.

  I just want to be happy.

  I want to be loved.

  “We need some grocery shopping,” I say.

  “I order everything from a local farmer’s shop and they deliver it four times a month. The fridge is full. We’ll just need to buy some bread first thing tomorrow.”

  “I can cook supper.”

  “No, you just take a bath and put something sexy on, okay? I’m going to cook lasagne.” He plants a wet kiss on my cheek. “A glass of wine? Beer? Something stronger?”

  “I don’t like alcohol.”

  “I know, but I thought a few sips—“

  “No, I mean I’m scared of alcohol.” I swallow thickly and take a deep breath. “Why am I like this? Was my mother an alcoholic?”

  “Yes. She was drunk all the time.” He inhales deeply. “You had a really shitty childhood, but it’s behind you.”

  Asher

  She looks disturbed so I tighten my embrace around her.

  “We’ll get drunk with orange juice tonight,” I say.

  “Do you drink a lot? I mean—“

  “I drink only occasionally.”

  From now on. My wife’s well-being is my priority so some of my habits must change. Her face lights up and she curls up into my chest. I make a mental note—never get drunk when she’s around.

  I hold her hand in mine and show her the bathroom. The window is secured with a lock in case another dangerous idea pops into her mind.

  “The clothes and underwear are in the chest of drawers,” I say.

  We go back to the bedroom and she explores it with the shyness of a wild animal.

  “I never buy such expensive lingerie,” she says, her wide eyes rising to mine.

  “You’re a modest girl, but I love spoiling you.”

  She sucks in a breath. “I was hungry sometimes.”

  My heart freezes. “Your mother didn’t look after you properly, but that’s behind you.”

  It’s getting dangerous. I have to divert her attention to something else so her memories don’t keep popping out. I need more time to get to know her. To tie her to me.

  I pull her to me. “Have a bath. Relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Okay.”

  She walks over to the bathroom while I go downstairs and start cooking for her. She joins me fifteen minutes later, wearing a red kimono robe. The satin fabric reflects the light cast by the green chandelier.

  “That moisturiser,” she starts as my heart stops beating, “is really good. I like such butter-like stuff.”

  Yes, I’m a lucky bastard.

  Not to mention that the shop assistant in the pharmacy wanted to kill me when I bombarded her with questions about all the moisturisers they were selling.

  I stir the lamb simmering in the pan and switch off the stove. “Half an hour, baby.”

  “I feel useless, you know.”

  I was right about her. She had a bad mother, but she was a good kid. Good kids like her always meet bad people and end up in shit.

  “Sit on the table and smile for me,” I say as I layer a baking tray with the lamb, lasagne sheets and white sauce. I shove it into the oven and turn to face Michelle. “You’re not sitting on the table yet.”

  She puts her hands on the top and settles herself on the edge, resting her feet on the chair. A timid smile plays on her lips.

  Chapter 11

  Michelle

  He moves closer to me, kicking the chair aside. His hands land on my hips and he moves me a bit backwards. Thin streams of sweat trickle down his naked chest as his manly smell circles me, causing my mind to twirl. Oh God, my husband is so hot. I’m a lucky girl.

  “So, you want to be useful, huh?” Asher says as his mouth closes mine. He sucks on my lower lip gently before sliding his tongue in. “I know how to make use of you.”

  “I bet you do.” Am I flirting with my husband? I think I am.

  I thought I couldn’t flirt.

  Asher chuckles. Parting my thighs with his hand, he wedges himself between them. He hooks me under my arms with his hands as his hot mouth touches my throat, sending an electric current down my spine. My muscles shiver.

  Asher tugs at my belt and opens my kimono robe. His fingers slip under the strap of my lacy
red bra and he lowers it, exposing my breast. He circles my nipple with his thumb and it hardens at his touch. My heart hammers in my chest. My core pulses.

  My husband kisses his way down my throat, leaving a wet path. He runs his tongue around my nipple and draws my breast fully into his mouth. My body is on fire. The flame of need pulsates within me, centring on my tummy. It will consume me at any moment, but I want that more than anything.

  I realise I’m not embarrassed or shy anymore. I should be because that’s how I am, but I’m not. I wrap my thighs around Asher’s waist and the lust in his eyes is the answer to my boldness.

  My world narrows to this hot reality of our bodies clenched together, our impatience scorching and untamed, our need like a tangible primal force between us.

  Asher kisses my neck, every touch of his mouth like a lick of fire. My body doesn’t belong to me any longer. It belongs to his rough hands and his fierce mouth branding me with each kiss. I’m his and he’s mine. Every atom of my body chants this declaration.

  With my fingers sinking into his hair, I urge him to kiss my breast, and he bites down on my nipple, forcing a gasp from my mouth. Our lips meet hungrily and it’s madness. A pure unrestrained lust that will make us diffuse into each other. I feel Asher pull my panties down and he growls with frustration as they brace my thighs.

  Asher growls again and rips my panties off. “That will do.”

  “They are expensive.”

  “You’re priceless.”

  He lifts my knees and spreads them wide apart, sinking his face between my thighs. My pussy is so wet I’m ashamed of myself. For a second or two. Asher’s tongue penetrating me strips me of rationality. His palm pins me down to the table as he devours my pussy. Tension builds in my tummy. I throw my arms over my head and let him give me pleasure. Oh so much pleasure. Every whip of his tongue promises heaven. He sucks my clit, bringing me to the brink. I wiggle so impatient for my release.

  Asher leans over me, pressing his lips against mine. I taste my own arousal as he eases his weight onto his elbow. Our eyes meet. His radiate both evil and good. He’s all danger and gorgeous hotness. He is mine.

  I feel him slide a finger into my pussy. It curls and strokes this sensitive area inside me, jolting me. I fall into sweet, torturous unrest.