by K. L. Savage
It’s always when someone’s bleeding.
But who is there when I bleed?
Am I the disaster area? Am I where everyone goes to try to get fixed and then I’m left in the debris?
I need a disaster area. I need a place to call my own because I’m not sure how much more weight of the world I can bear. Every cut, every bullet wound, every ounce of blood, every surgery, every time I massage a heart; every time I shock someone to life, it takes a small part of me.
And I don’t know what’s left.
Pieces of me, I suppose.
The unworthy pieces that Jo doesn’t deserve. She needs all of me, and how can I do that when I’m less than half a man?
He didn’t even go to the clubhouse. Eric rented a hotel room down the road from the hospital, so he can stay close just in case anything happens with his mom. He opens the hotel door, and I’m astounded at the sight before me. It’s a suite. There’s a king-size bed to the left, a typical plain desk to the right, but there is a chandelier hanging in the ceiling. There’s a jacuzzi tub in the corner, and a huge vanity against the wall before it disappears into the bathroom. The walls are high, vaulted, reminding me of the ceiling in a church.
“I’m going to take a shower, okay? Relax, order food, watch TV. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I don’t have anything for your bandages, or I’d have you shower with me.” His hand lands on the side of my cheek, but he stares at me for a moment, and he doesn’t say a single word. His eyes are tortured, dark blue stormy orbs that are trying to find the calm. “I love you, you know. I know a lot of shit has gone down. I know we’ve fallen fast, but you and me, this is how it’s supposed to be, Jo. I feel it. In my damn bones, I feel it. Thank you for seeing my mom when you didn’t have to. Thank you for being there. I fucking love you for that.” He smashes his lips against mine. It’s quick, intense, passionate, everything a kiss should be. His tongue tangles with mine, and the space between my thighs tingles, wanting more than just his tongue. I want his body.
I tug on his shirt, gripping the thin material with my fist and deepening the connection, entangling our tongues in a seductive dance. Right as my hand slides up his shirt and his abs ripple against my fingers, he pulls away. His hand squeezes my hip, and he gives me a soft peck, leaving me aching and confused. I know he’s worried about my leg, but I’m fine.
Kind of.
It hurts, but the pain medication helps, and I miss him. We never get time. Selflessly, I understand. Selfishly, I want us to run away and never look back.
“I’ll be back. Get comfortable, babe.” His lips are swollen from our kiss, and the bulge in his groin has swelled, but his eyes, those beautiful eyes are haunted. He shucks off his shirt without care, which is unusual since he always tries to hide from me, from everyone, and he puts his scars on display. It’s like a T-rex took its talons and scrapped down his back repeatedly. The scars disappear below the waistband, marking the flesh of his ass.
It’s still the sexiest ass known to mankind.
I’m sitting on the bed, wondering how I can make him feel better, to try to take his mind off everything, and make him feel good for a change. The only idea I have is sexual, and that’s cliché, but he’s always so worried about everyone else. He fixes everyone else.
I want him to be focused on me. I want to show him that he’s on my mind.
The shower turns on, and the spray plummets against the wall. I stand on one leg and try to put weight on the other, but the stitches pull, and I immediately tumble forward. I hold out my hands to catch myself on the wall and pick my foot up off the floor. I want to kick myself in the ass for cutting myself like I did.
I know my journey is a long one, but I’m already better, and I’m asking myself why.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Eric rushes out with a towel wrapped around his waist, and my mouth waters. I want to run my tongue down the divots of his chest, the ridges in his abs. I want his body to own mine and make me new again.
“Um…” Nothing. I was just on my way to make you feel better, and I failed. No big deal. “Just wanted to stretch,” I lie because how embarrassing would it be to tell the truth!
“Jo, you have to be careful. Okay?” He pushes me toward the bed and makes me sit down, then grabs my legs and swings them on the bed.
My eyes are locked on his stomach, watching the muscles move. I bite my lip as he stands, and the V disappears below the white towel. My eyes move until I’m staring at his cock.
He’s just the right size for me.
“You need to behave,” he growls, lifting my chin up with his fingers so my eyes are no longer staring at his thickening cock. I can’t believe how wide it is. I wonder if I can even fit it in my mouth. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jo. You’re healing. I already took you too soon. We need to wait.” His thumb brushes across my bottom lip, and he isn’t staring into my eyes, he’s eyeing my mouth, thinking about taking me anyway even if it goes against what he believes in.
I reach for the towel, hook my thumb around it, and tug the edge free. I watch in earnest as it falls onto the floor, dropping into a pile around his feet. His hard cock bobs free, and even though I’ve seen it before, I’m still in awe. He’s gorgeous.
Absolutely, positively, fucking phenomenal.
“Jo,” he says my name as a threat, and his hand drops to my neck, and then his fingers side down my chest and flick across my nipple. “Today isn’t the day to test me. I’m on edge. I’m pissed off. I’m dealing with too much for you to handle.”
I wrap my palm around him and stroke. He hisses, dropping his chin to his chest as he watches my hand. My fingers can’t touch. I don’t know how I took this monster in my ass or inside me in general, but I did, and I want it again.
“I want to handle you, Eric. I want to make you feel good.” I wiggle toward the edge of the bed and guide my mouth to his cock. The head is wide and a dark blood red from how hard he is. There’s a vein protruding on the side, pumping the angry cock full. I lick my lips, suddenly nervous, but I want to please him more than I want to stop.
“Joanna.”
The sound of my name whispered against his lips has my head tilting up. We lock eyes, and he moans, his eyes rolling back from just a quick glance at me.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says, running his fingers through the sides of my hair, pulling it from the bun I have on top of my head.
I don’t say anything. I flick my tongue out and lick the dollop of pre-cum from the slit, moaning at the salty burst spreading across my tongue.
“Fuck,” he groans, hips thrusting from the wet attention I gave him. His hands tighten around my head. “I’m not going to last with you down there,” he admits and that only spurs me on.
I wrap my lips around the width, mouth stretching wide to accommodate him, and just as I thought, I have to stuff him in my mouth. My eyes water from the pinch of pain in the crease of my lips. Do I have a small mouth or is he really that wide?
“How do you feel so fucking good? Do you have any idea how bad I want to fuck your face right now? Do you?”
I shake my head the best I can and then skim my fingers up his thigh and cup his sack, tugging on it for added pleasure.
He bowls over, grunting when I bob quicker, and his nails dig into my scalp. His hips begin to thrust, small, shallow strokes. “Jo, oh, fuck yes, that mouth.” He gains confidence with every shallow thrust, dragging his cock out more until only the tip of the flared crown is behind my teeth. He pushes forward, sending himself to the back of my throat until I’m gagging and drooling down my chin. “I’m going to fill that mouth, baby. You’re going to fucking take it, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer because I can’t. He pulls himself from my lips, dragging his nerves across my tongue. He pulls free, and my spit drips from his intimidating stalk. He grabs himself and slaps me on each cheek, then my mouth.
I’m the nail to his hammer, and I want him to do whatever it takes to pound me into the damn groun
d.
“I asked you a question, Jo. You’re going to drink me down, and then you know what’s going to happen?”
“What?” I ask breathlessly, inching toward his cock.
“Then, you’re going to lay on your side. I’m going to slide into that sweet cunt, fuck it, fill it, and go to sleep with my cock buried in you until the next morning.” He doesn’t give me time to answer; he slides himself between my lips again and fucks my face.
Without remorse.
Without second guessing himself.
Without caring if he’s splitting my mouth in two.
And I love every fucking second of it.
“Oh, shit. Jo, oh, fuck. I’m going to come,” he warns and fucks my face harder, his balls swinging and hitting my chin. “Fuuuuck,” he moans, thrusting until he lodges himself in the back of my throat as streams of his cum drown me. I swallow the best I can, cough, gag, choke, and the more sounds of struggle I make around him, the more cum that leaves his slit.
Just when I think he’s done, he pulls out, and I watch a beautiful pearly drop fall from his tip onto the floor. He rips my shirt over my head and unbuttons my shorts before sliding them down my leg, careful not to hurt my stitches. “I want to eat this pussy so bad,” he groans, staring at my wet sheath that’s begging for his attention. “But I know that will hurt your leg, and the last thing I want is to hurt you.” He turns me to my side, my thighs touching, and since the position doesn’t tug on the skin where my stitches are, it feels fine.
He’s always thinking of me even when he’s thinking about himself.
“I do want a taste of this ass first,” he says, nipping at my breast before licking down and around my ribcage. “Don’t move. I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, okay? The moment you feel any pain, you better tell me, or I’m going to spank this ass until it’s raw.” He ends his statement by sucking his lips against my skin. His fingers don’t touch my legs at all, keeping in mind my injuries.
I love how his hands map my body. It’s like he knows every part of me that’s hurt and every part of me that’s on fire.
His lips slide down my rear, kissing, biting, sucking the plump flesh, and he parts my cheeks. With an animalistic snarl, he buries his face between my crease and his tongue plunges into my forbidden hole, lapping at the tight ring.
I bury my face into the pillow, wondering how me focusing on him and sucking his cock turned into him reciprocating. I’m not complaining, but I wasn’t expecting this.
His fingers rub between the wet folds of my pussy, coaxing my clit erect as a rush of liquid heat escapes me. He hums, the vibrations shaking my lower belly. Eric slips his fingers inside me, pumping in and out while he lavishes me.
“Eric,” I moan, squeezing a fistful of sheets in my left hand.
“I don’t know which part of you I want more,” he growls. “That ass, I love how it grips my cock. But I love how wet this cunt is,” he says, pulling his finger free. I look over my shoulder to see him sucking the soaked digits into his mouth. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough. I’ll never be satisfied.”
My cheeks heat, and I bury my face in the pillow, feeling overwhelmed to be wanted in such a capacity. Eric slides up my body from behind, lays a kiss on my shoulder, and rubs his cock along my throbbing lips, coating his cock with my slick. “Are you okay?” he asks, curling his arm around my chest and squeezing my right breast.
“Never better,” I say honestly, wishing he and I could stay wrapped up in these hotels sheets forever. No outsiders, no drama, no obligations.
Just the two of us.
But that isn’t reality. Life is filled with responsibility and obligations. They can never be ignored. The world doesn’t wait for people to be ready for unexpected misfortunes or blessings; it expects you to be ready, no matter what.
People have to adjust, to adapt, and have to figure it out day by day.
Right now, I know I’m not ready for Eric, and I’m not ready to be a mother. With how strongly they make me feel, they make me want to be, so I’m adapting.
I’m changing.
I’m learning to accept love. Love is hard to wrap your head around and understand when no one has ever received it before.
And now that I have it, I never want to let it go.
No matter how much I’m not ready for it, I want to be.
Eric pushes inside me, and a warm, shaky breath leaves my shoulder when he drives in to the hilt. I groan into the bed and bite the pillow, wondering how something so damn wide could ever feel so good. His pelvis moves away from me, and his cock slides salaciously against my plush walls. His fingers slide down the crease of my ass, and a playful grin tilts my lips. A part of him always needs to be inside me … everywhere. At all times.
I love it.
He pushes a finger into my ass while filling me with every delicious inch of him. His free hand rubs over a beaded nipple, and his palm splays across my stomach, protecting me, protecting the baby. He’s telling me he’s all in.
I turn my head and capture his lips with mine, needing to be closer to the man who has come in and ripped my heart from my chest and claimed it as his own.
Eric removes his fingers from my ass and wraps his arms around me, tightening my back to his chest as he slows his thrusts, slowing the urgency and creating something I’ve never experienced before.
On instinct, I try to thrust back against him, but he keeps me still by gripping my hip, warning me. I bite his lip into my mouth and give it a solid tug. He punches his hips forward, stealing the breath from my body and owning it as his.
“Fuck, Jo. Fuck, you feel too goddamn good.” He lays his forehead against my shoulder, and wraps his arms around my waist, crisscross, and hugs me as he buries himself as far as he can go. “I fucking love you. Damn it, Jo. Damn it! I love you. Never in my life…” He mutters the last sentence, “Never in my life has anything ever felt so good.” He slams his lips on me and groans when I clench my muscles on the inside, a firm warning that I’m about to come.
“I love you too,” I tell him, climbing with him higher to orgasm. “I think I always have,” I admit, thinking back to the first time I saw him. He helped me out of the van from Jersey, and immediately I was wrapped in his strength.
At the time, I thought I was relieved I had been saved, and maybe it was a little of that, but now I know what it was.
It’s this magical kinetic energy swirling around us. It has to be otherworldly. Love like this has to be on the verge of extinction because the way I’m feeling it, it’s like it’s the first case ever recorded.
I’m obsessed.
I’m bound.
I’m his.
“You’re going to make me come.” He sucks my earlobe between his teeth and grunts, stuttering as his orgasm approaches.
“Me too,” I say on a twisted tongue, feeling the warm sweat of his skin slide against my back with every wave of his hips.
“Come with me, Jo. Come with me,” he begs, burying a hand in my hair and yanking my head back onto his shoulder. He sucks a mark onto my neck and shouts, muting his cry of release against the column of my throat. Hot splashes of his cum warm me from the inside out, and I fall over the edge once I feel him coating me.
“Eric!” I scream, my voice echoing off the walls as I clamp around his width. “Yes, so good, oh, Eric,” I moan, riding the ecstasy of the orgasm.
After shocks shake my body as we come down from our climaxes. Our bodies tremble, and the air is thick with sex still, a spell hanging in the air, and if we aren’t careful, we’ll fall into its passionate clutches again.
Something wickedly beautiful brews between us, something that can only be described as magic.
He kisses the middle of my neck and sighs. “Are you okay? How’s your leg?”
“Mmm,” I say, lazily. “I’m okay, I promise.”
“Good. When you’re all healed, I want to see this body on top of me.” His voice thickens with lust, and his cock starts to mov
e again.
I open my mouth to answer, but his phone rings from somewhere in the room. “No,” I whine, grabbing his hand to keep him by me. “Ignore it.”
“I can’t, babe. It’s Reaper.” He rolls away, and his cock slides out along with a gush of his cum.
Outside obligations ruining everything…
He bends down to grab his jeans off the floor, and his brows furrow as he answers the call. “Now? Okay, yeah. You want me to bring her? Why? What! No, absolutely not, Reaper—” Eric pulls his phone away from his ear and throws it on the bed. “Bastard hung up on me.”
“What did he want?” I gather the sheets and pull them to my waist.
“We need to leave, and you’ve got to be bait for the plan.”
“What? Why! What do I have to do with it?”
“Because the man who shot up the clubhouse is none other than your friend Brody. I should have seen that coming.”
I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m pissed off.
The last place I want to be is here at Maximo’s Casino. I want to stay wrapped up in Jo in the hotel, a world where we only existed, but that isn’t how life works. No one keeps Reaper waiting. We were in such a rush I didn’t even have time to get dressed properly. I pull my arms through my shirt and work it over my shoulders and down my back.
There are a few curious glances from my MC brothers when they see the scars along my back, but they don’t ask questions. All of them understand.
We all have our scars. Physical, mental, emotional.
We’re a fucked up bunch, and that’s why we work.
“So, what’s going on?” I ask, rubbing my eyes to get the sleepiness out. “What’s the plan? And why the hell is Jo involved? That man raped her! She shouldn’t have to confront him,” I sneer at Reaper, hating that he would put her in this position. He’d never expect Sarah to do this.
“Because Brody knows her. When he sees her, it’s the validation we need to make a move.” Reaper pulls a small pill out of his cut and shows it to Jo. “I figure you could get your payback.”