“Do ye wanna go?” Lachlan addresses Bridget, his eyes keenly watching her every move.
Bridget shrugs. “I don’t care, Dad. I just. . .” She dabs another tear from her eye and leans into Cas when he hooks his arm over her shoulder, bringing her into a side hug. She buries her face into his chest, desperately clutching at the cotton of his shirt with her hands.
“Take her, and get the bloody hell outta here. But ye better be fuckin’ careful with my daughter. Aye?” Lachlan thumps Cas’s bicep with his fist, his expression firm.
“You know I will.” Cas nods affirmatively to Lachlan and me, then turns to Bridget and wraps both of his arms around her as she locks her legs around his waist and he hoists her out of the Tahoe. Carrying her to his bike, her face stuffed in the crook of his neck, Cas’s hands hold her bottom. Hum. . .that seems a little too intimate to me, but hey, what do I know?
I turn to Lachlan and open my mouth to say something, but he’s grinning at me so I don’t. “I know what ye’re aboot tae say,” he teases a little too happily, since we’re standing at a funeral.
“What?” I tilt my head to the side, and he steps closer, his front melting to mine. I groan in delight.
Sifting his fingers through the side of my hair, he observes, “Cas touchin’ Pip bothers ye.”
How in the frick does he know that? I didn’t say that. Even though it does. I’m like a mama bear when it comes to Bridget. Cas being my boss or Lachlan’s club VP, doesn’t factor into that equation at all. I’d be a mama bear to her even if the man were a saint. And he’s definitely not that.
“I never said that!” I defend.
“Ye didnae have tae. I saw yer face. Ye were close tae kickin’ his arse,” Lachlan muses.
“Doesn’t him putting his hands on her butt bother you? I mean, that’s sort of inappropriate.”
“Cas is a horny bastard, my leannan, but he’s not gonna mess with my daughter. He knows that I’d kill him. Ye have nothin’ tae worry aboot.” His fingers tighten on my scalp, and the feeling burns in my belly, turning my blood hot with want.
I wish I could believe that, but I don’t. Bridget looks up to Cas, and if he takes advantage of her, I’ll be the one to kill him with all of those wonderful tools he bought me.
Sighing, I lean my head into Lachlan’s touch. “I dunno—” I begin, but he doesn’t give me a chance to finish when he claims my mouth in a searing kiss that makes my toes tingle as my pussy dampens. I grab his dress shirt, seeking more, and hitch my leg over his hip, grinding myself against him.
He rips his mouth from mine, leaving both of us struggling to breathe.
My lips sting with his addictive taste. Dreamily, I run my tongue over them and flick my eyes downward to catch his dick tenting in his kilt. Reaching out to touch it, he seizes my hand and wrenches it behind my back. My breasts jut upward, firmly pressing to his stomach when he locks my hips to his thighs, his hardness rooting my stomach. My nipples pebble on contact, and his mouth dips, hovering over mine, his warm, minty breath teasing me.
“Time tae go home so we can put all of this shit behind us. I need tae put my mouth on ye.” His lips faintly brush mine, igniting goosebumps down my curvy frame.
My eyes grow heavy, lidding with desire. “Yes.” I smirk wickedly.
His mouth on me. Shoot, I want nothing more than that. Lachlan’s mouth kissing me. His tongue licking me. His body covering mine. My pussy quivers at the thought.
Releasing me, Lachlan moves to open the passenger side door and spanks my hiney when I climb into the bucket seat. Before I know what’s happening, he’s strapping me in with my seatbelt and pecking me on the lips. He slams my door and rounds the front of the SUV, then he coolly slides in and turns over the engine.
On the ride, he reaches his hand over the console and rests it on my thigh. The touch brands me with tenderness and lust. Squirming in my seat, my hand settles over his and our fingers link together.
God, I can’t wait to touch him and wash away all of this misery once and for all. No more regression. I need to take life for what it throws at me. And right now, it’s throwing me something quite remarkable.
Lachlan lifts me under my arms and throws me onto the bed. Squealing with surprise, I bounce a little, and he pounces on me, covering me with his deliciously naked body. Laughing and smiling at his eagerness, I spread my legs and wrap them around his waist, my arms going around his neck, pulling him closer, right where I need him. His erection nudges itself between my folds, and nuzzles it’s dripping head to my equally wet entrance.
“It’s time, my leannan.” He shifts his hips a fraction, slowly breaching my core, stretching me around his thickness.
Oh yes. . .
When we’d arrived home, he didn’t waste a second to shuffle me into the house and start stripping me. I knew what that meant without him saying a word. I knew he wanted this. Ever since the day we left the hospital, he’s been touching me constantly just as I’ve been touching him. We’ve played with each other anywhere and everywhere we can, without making Bridget uncomfortable. We can’t get enough.
It’s never enough.
Yesterday morning over breakfast, he’d sat me on the kitchen counter, tore my pajama bottoms and panties down my legs just so he could go to town, giving me three glorious orgasms with his mouth. He’s frickin’ insatiable, and I’m giddy as all get out because of it.
This morning in the shower, we’d washed one another and I brought him to climax with my hand, which ended the same as always—him retching into the toilet. A little while afterward, he found me standing in front of the bathroom mirror, crying, consumed by guilt and the memories of Brian and Grams. Since Lachlan’s death scare, the only time I can seem to put those feelings to rest is when he’s touching me. And that’s exactly what he did. He’d lifted me onto the bathroom sink, rolled my dress so it pooled around my waist, and kissed me as he told me how much he loved me, while his fingers forced me to come, twice.
Lachlan’s lips on mine bring me back to the present. “Do ye want this?” He rolls his hips, his cock sliding in further. I clench around him, and he growls, plunging his tongue into my mouth without awaiting an answer.
Wickedly, we kiss, until my mouth aches and my pussy is grinding against him, my legs squeezing around his hips. He moves in slowly, sheathing himself in my heat as we groan and wrap our tongues together, breathing heavier and heavier the deeper he seats himself inside me.
When he bottoms out, we both moan, swallowing one another’s pleasured cries of connection. I can feel him, everywhere. His hefty body resting on mine as his chest scrapes across my sensitive nipples. The way my pussy stretches around his girth, hugging it like he belongs there, forever. We fit perfectly.
My heart gives way to the glorious sensations and emotions that fill me up inside, making my heart warm and full and my stomach gooey with happiness. It’s perfect. This, is perfect.
My nose burns as I fight off a wave of unshed tears as Lachlan pulls his lips from mine, swiping his tongue over my battered lips. “Ye. . .” He groans, his body quaking above me. “Ye. . .” He chokes this time and swallows hard, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat.
Gently running my hand over the side of his rugged face, I whisper, “I know,” and softly press my lips to his again, melding us as one. I know this is it for me. He’s it for me. Having thought that I’d lost him showed me more than what I already knew. That I love him deeply. That he’s the one, deep down, that I know was made for me. We fit seamlessly. It’s easy to love him after I got over how much my attraction scared me. After I accepted the one thing I couldn’t change—my feelings.
“I love ye,” he rasps to my lips, and my heart expands as tears of happiness drip down the sides of my eyes and into my hair.
Caressing the side of his face, I breathe him in as my bracelet jiggles, reminding me of him—of us.
“I love you, too, sweetheart,” I whisper, and he shudders, resting his forehead to mine, his cock swellin
g inside me. “Now make love to me.”
He shudders again, exhaling a shaky breath, his stomach quivering against mine.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay. I want to be with you. I want this.” I speak gently to him to move him past the emotions that I know we’re both feeling.
“Ye,” he gulps, “ye feel so fuckin’ good.”
I peck his lips and hug him tighter, trying to convey how much he means to me. “You feel good, too,” I mutter. “So good, Lachlan. So good.”
“My leannan.” He nuzzles his nose to mine and glides his cock out, leaving just the tip inside. Goosebumps race down my arms and legs.
“My leannan.” He breathes reverently and rocks his hip forward, gliding himself back in.
“Yes.” I dig my nails into his shoulders and my heels into his hard glutes.
In and out, he gently drags his dick, hitting me in all the right places. Leaving me writhing and whimpering under him.
Tortuously slow, he revs me up, turning me into a growing ball of fiery lust and indescribable need.
“Mine.” He rumbles a husky growl, punching his hips forward and hitting me deep, before gliding back out slowly, agonizingly.
Arching my neck into the pillow, my eyes rolling back, toes curling, I sputter a long, heady moan.
“Always mine.” He thrusts again, rougher this time, and I hang onto him for dear life, worried that if I let go, I might float away from the sheer euphoria of it all.
Harder and needier, he slams into me with jerky thrusts, his body trembling fanatically the faster and deeper he makes love to me. His heart beats so hard that I can feel his pulse blending with mine. My pussy tightens around him, feeling every inch of his thickness plundering me in the most delicious of ways. A voracious mixture of our combined grunts and moans echo off the walls in our bedroom as we consume each other.
Sweat beads on his forehead, dripping onto me, and I grasp the back of his neck, forcing him to kiss me. Our tongues tangle and fight like we’re possessed as my body coils tighter, the heat at my core rising me to a place I never knew existed. Bright colors burst in the back of my eyes, and I stop breathing as a searing orgasm crashes through me.
“Lachlan!” I cry, gasping for air as my body rides the wicked peak of unadulterated ecstasy.
“My leannan,” Lachlan growls to my lips, his body thrusting wilder. Then he suddenly stops, going still, and pours himself into me, his liquid heat coating my insides, making everything perfect in my world—everything.
Lachlan releases a breath and melts into me, settling most of his weight atop me, going boneless, with his face resting in the crook of my neck. I caress his back up and down, waiting for him to make a run for the bathroom. Only, by the grace of God, it doesn’t come. Overcome by hope and love, I send a silent prayer, saying thank you to the man upstairs for giving me the chance to live and love again. And for allowing Lachlan that same chance, too.
A single tear drops from my eye, and I smile happily.
Seconds, minutes, tick by as I draw lazy circles on his back with my fingers, both of us catching our breaths, our bodies recovering.
Then, he pushes himself up and kisses me, soft and tenderly. “Ye’re mine forever?” He sounds unsure.
“Always,” I whisper. “Always.”
Beaming, Lachlan smiles, and I kiss him again, expressing all of my emotions and love, beyond my words.
What else can I say other than thank you so much for taking this wild and painful ride with Magdalene and Lachlan. Now that you’re finished, I’m sure you’re either ready to hug me for loving the story or scowl at me for hating it. If it’s the former, I want to send you a virtual hug right back. And if it’s the latter, I want to send you a virtual hug, too, just for finishing the story even though it wasn’t your cup of tea. And if you’re reading this note before the book. . .as Mags would say— “Quit cheating and start on chapter one, you silly goose.”
Beyond Her Words was a journey for me to expand my horizons as a writer and truly tap into a set of characters that kept nagging at me. Strangely, they came to me in a dream. And for six months, I poured my heart and soul into this beast of a novel. A novel I had no intention of writing in the first place, since I told myself I was taking a summer off to spend time with my family, but the characters wouldn’t listen.
So here’s a bit more about these people I hope you’ve come to adore as much as I have.
Lachlan: He was inspired by my love for Outlander. Not that he’s anything like Jamie except for his Scottish ancestry, but the Scottish dialect really appealed to me. And let’s face it, it’s sexy as hell. Plus, let’s not forget the kilts. . . Swoon.
Magdalene: She was inspired by no one, actually. Except maybe she has bits of me in her, parts of her darkness that I don’t want to shed light on. But as a character as a whole, I thought her up.
Most of the other characters in the book weren’t inspired by anyone else either. . .
However, Casanova being an amputee was not only inspired by all those men and women who lost their life and limbs fighting for our freedom. But it went a little more personal for me. I have a sister in my clubhouse, whose beautiful daughter lost her leg to cancer, and I wanted to instill a part of that into my story, just as her story of triumphant inspires me every day.
And. . . . The last but not least. . . .
Bonez: I am sure y’all wanna know more about him. Bonez was never a character I even dreamed up until half way through the book. Honestly, it came to me after I’d been seeing my chiropractor for weeks on end, working on my hip, which meant he was touching my ass pretty regularly. After one session where I left sore as hell, I called Pixie in my truck and told her that in one of my books I needed to write a perverted and loveable chiropractor. She agreed right away. And there you have it, Bonez was brought to life.
Okay, I’m going to stop now, because I’m sure I could talk about this book all day.
In the end. . . even though you and I hate to see Mags and Lachlan go. . .know that they’ll be back in future Corrupt Chaos novels, possible MC Chronicles novels, and a special novella that I will be publishing with a little more of their story.
In the words of Lachlan, “I hope tae see yer bloody arse soon. Thank ye for readin’ aboot me and my leannan.”
Peace,
Bink Cummings
P.S. I hope you will consider posting a review. It would mean a lot to me.
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When an author spends hours, days, weeks, and months writing a book, it’s emotionally taxing. It’s frustrating, yet rewarding. It’s a piece of our hearts and our lives that are poured into the pages for you to read. It’s not just a book; it’s a small sliver of us—a piece of our hearts.
During the process of writing Beyond Her Words, I was blessed with a brand new beta team. From the beginning, I had been scared to bring anyone into my inner sanctum, but as the time has progressed, I have slowly allowed my walls to come down. Jay was the first, who is my PA, beta, Vp, and real sister ’til the end. Then after opening my clubhouse on Facebook, I was blessed with hundreds of beyond amazing sisters who have not only come into my life but climbed into my heart.
Among those beautiful women, there were a few that I felt I got to know a bit more by their constant interactions in the group. They really tried to be a part of something that’s greater than just myself—our Sacred Sisterhood. Which is how those few select sisters were bought into my beta team. This isn’t a team where they just read my book at the end. They read along the way, gave opinions (sometimes daily), and really make the hard work I put into my novel extra special.
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So without further ado, I want to shout a huge thank you to. . .
Mary, Teena, Tamra, Zetta, and Dyana (my beta bitches)—you have been my never-ending cheer squad, my sisters, my pick me up, my mentors. . .and for that, I will be forever thankful. Love you, bitches!
Sue: Thank you for all of your kind and helpful words- It made all the difference.
Kristina: (my editor): Thank you for pouring your time into the book to make it that much better. I know we had time constraints, but we made it work and I am grateful for your dedication and honest, no holds barred, opinions—it was exactly what I needed from you and you delivered. I hope to work on many more books together. . . You’re awesome!
Genevieve: (my editor): Thank you for your quick, precise work. Your swift and clean proofreading, along with mild editing was exactly what I needed and I am thrilled to have worked with you on this project. I hope to work on many more.
To Jay: (My PA): I just have to say your loyalty knows no bounds and your support could never be beaten by any other author’s PA or sister. I’m proud to call you a part of my life and the clubhouse. Love ya, VP!
To Pixie, the never forgotten stepchild: I love you bitch. You’re my rock, my biggest cheerleader, my sounding board, and a huge but lovely pain in my ass. I’ll love you forever. You’re never gonna get rid of me, even if I have to cuff myself to you when we’re old and in wheelchairs. Haha- Sucks for you.
To Jezebel: My sassy mouthed sister with a perverted mind and an even bigger heart. I love you, hooker. You’re always there to pick me up, tell me when I’m being a dumb bitch, and have my back when shit gets real—loyalty to the end. Sorry to tell ya, but Bulk is just gonna have to get used to sharing, because I’m here to stay. We’ve been sisters for what feels like forever, and until the Lord takes me, I’m glued to your hip. Get used to that shit.
1. Whitesnake: Here I go again
Beyond Her Words (Corrupt Chaos MC) Page 39