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Scars (Going All the Way, 3)

Page 7

by Jenika Snow


  And when Hannah watched the life start to fade from Landon’s eyes, as his eyes became unfocused, as he opened and closed his mouth as if his body was on autopilot and desperate for oxygen, that was when Scars leaned forward. His mouth was by Landon’s ear, and she heard the low, deep laugh come from the man who she’d fallen irrevocably for.

  “You come after what is mine, you look into the very devil’s eyes.” Scars pulled back then and locked eyes with Landon, and after a tense second, Landon’s eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp. Scars held him off the ground for long moments, and Hannah knew she’d just watched the life leave Landon. And even though she should feel horrified, the only thing that kept moving through her head was what Scars had just said.

  Scars dropped Landon to the ground, his body slamming against the wooden floor loud enough it echoed in her ears. She was frozen in place as she stared at the very dead body. His eyes were open, the whites visible as he stared at the ceiling.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. And then she blinked and lifted her gaze from Landon to see Scars watching her. His expression was guarded, his body so big, so powerful. He’d taken a life with his bare hands, using his power as if Landon had been nothing but an annoying fly.

  He saved her for a second time.

  The tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked several times. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see straight… couldn’t feel any part of her as she stared into Scars’ eyes.

  “Come here,” Scars said gruffly, and she found herself moving automatically. She needed his warmth and touch. Hannah let him pull her into the safety, the warmth of his big, scarred, muscular body. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

  No, he wouldn’t. Scars had done what she should have all those weeks ago.

  “What happens next?” she whispered.

  “I have my boys come up here and clean it up. That’s it. Done and over with. End of the chapter, end of that fucking nightmare.”

  Scars pulled her in tighter, harder, as if he was afraid she’d leave him. He held her, stroked his big hand down her head and over her back.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured, and she felt herself falling apart in this man’s arms. Did he know how he made her feel, the intensity in which she let herself fall for him? Could she ever feel this again if he didn’t want her the way she wanted him?

  “Don’t let go,” she begged, clutching at him. He held her tighter.

  “Never. I’m never letting go of you.”

  And as she shook and cried, as Scars held her and soothed her, whispering incoherent things that she knew were meant to ease her but just made her cry harder, she didn’t know what else to do but clutch him.

  She wasn’t crying out of sadness, wasn’t crying because she was still scared. She cried, because she’d never felt so… free.

  And she knew there wasn’t any other place she'd want to be than right here in this man’s arms.

  18

  It had been several hours since the fucking Landon situation. An hour since Scars called his club and had them clean up this fucking mess. They’d been fast and efficient, and he’d kept his eyes on Hannah the entire time. She’d been in shock, her arms around her waist as she watched them take the body out. He shouldn’t have exposed her to this shit, but she was his now, and this was his life. But he did regret telling his men instructions close enough she’d been able to hear.

  “Take this piece of shit out of here.”

  “You know what to do with it.”

  “He won’t be missed, and if he is, they won’t know where to find the pieces.”

  He’d seen the way she tensed, and in that second, he hated that this was his life.

  He told her a little bit about his club, about the Vicious Bastards MC. He told her enough that she knew who and what he was. And she stayed by his side still.

  But would she now, after seeing him kill a man, after watching his brothers haul the motherfucker out of the cabin?

  And now here they were in bed, his arms wrapped around her as he just held her. They’d been like this for an hour, and with each passing second, he felt her relax further, move closer to him, and sigh in almost relief.

  “You doing okay?” he asked softly, his hand moving up and down her arm in gentle sweeps.

  “I don’t know.” Her voice was soft, and he tightened his hold on her.

  “Are you upset he’s gone?” He didn’t want to know, if he were being honest. The possessive, jealous side of him rose up, demanding that no other male take up residence in her mind… in her life.

  She lifted up and looked down at his face.

  “No,” she said softly and lowered her gaze to his mouth. He cupped her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, breathing out as calmness surrounded her. He saw the glazed look in her eyes, the way her lips parted, her breathing changing.

  She needed him and he needed her.

  He rose up and slid his hand to her nape, pulling her in close so he could latch his lips onto hers. Her mouth was hot and sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. He swept his tongue into the wet cavern and stroked it along hers, eliciting a moan from her. Sliding his hands over her back, he gripped her ass and brought her closer to him until she now straddled his waist. He had his back to the headboard, his hands on her body, his lips on hers.

  Scars was in fucking heaven.

  “I need this. I need you,” she whispered. “I need you to help replace that memory, the memories of him, with ones of you.”

  He groaned and kissed her harder.

  She shifted on his lap, grinding herself on him. His cock jerked at the feel of her softness. Her hands slid up his chest and wound their way around his neck. She was as close to him as two people could get, yet it wasn’t enough.

  He grunted, and she gasped.

  “Are you sure?” Breaking the kiss was hard as fuck, but he wanted to make sure.

  “I need comfort. I need you.”

  He kissed and nipped along her jaw and groaned when she tilted her neck to give him better access. A gasp left her when he ran his tongue along her throat.

  Her nails dug into the back of his neck, and he relished the sting it caused. Scars ran his tongue the rest of the way up her neck and to her mouth. He let his hands slide over her waist to the front of her jeans. He gave her a moment to stop him, but she didn’t. In fact, she lifted her hips closer.

  He ran his tongue around her pulse point. “I’m going to take good care of you. I'm always going to take care of you, Hannah.”

  He tried to keep his touch soft, to make this all about her. She needed this, a distraction, a way out of her head.

  She just wanted to feel.

  And he’d give that to her and more. Whenever she needed it. Whatever she needed from him was hers.

  She removed her shirt then her bra, and after shifting slightly, her pants and panties were off. Now she sat naked on top of him, the scent of her arousal coating the air and making him hungry.

  He started running his fingers along her arms and softened his gaze, showed her he could be gentle, but only with her.

  “I need it fast. I need rough. I need it raw and uninhibited, Scars.”

  He swallowed audibly and nodded slowly.

  She wanted to forget, to be somewhere else, and he’d damn well make sure she got there, to oblivion.

  He wanted her to know he’d give her the world.

  19

  She could see the change in his eyes after she told him how she wanted it. And Hannah knew he wouldn’t let her down. He’d make her mindless, and right now, that's what she wanted… with him.

  His mouth found her neck, and then he skimmed his lips down her shoulder. He cupped one of her breasts, his thumb moving back and forth over her peaked tip. She tilted her head back and sighed as his touch inflamed her instantly.

  “How’s that feel, baby?”

  “Yes” was all she could s
ay.

  The feel of his thumb and forefinger tweaking her nipple sent sparks of pleasure straight to her core. Hannah found herself slightly rocking on him, back and forth, her pussy so wet, the denim of his jeans in the way. He must have read her mind, or needed this too, because a second later, he was working the button and zipper free on his jeans and pulled his cock out through the open fly.

  The fact that he didn't bother removing his pants for this turned Hannah on even more.

  He kept one hand between them, and it found its way between her thighs. At the first touch of his thumb to her clit, Hannah cried out, long and hard, her head becoming dizzy from the sensations. It was just a small touch, but with her arousal for Scars so monumental, that’s all it took for her to nearly go over the edge.

  He rubbed the digit over her clit, over and over again, slow and easy, teasing and tormenting her until she bit her lip hard enough that she tasted blood. She could have come from this alone, and would if he it kept up.

  She looked into his face, and a low, needy sound left her at what she saw.

  Heavy-lidded eyes trained on her.

  Lips parted.

  Chest heaving.

  He was getting off on watching her find pleasure.

  Scars then moved the finger teasing that little engorged bud down her cleft and teased her pussy hole. She was soaking wet, and the sounds of him gently fingering her had Hannah’s inner muscles clenching and trying to draw him in deeper.

  “I need you,” she moaned. He knew she wanted—needed—something more substantial deep inside her.

  She needed his dick, wanted hard pounding and mindless pleasure.

  And only Scars could give it to her.

  “You have all of me,” he said, and he leaned forward an inch and started sucking at the base of her throat.

  It was only a second later when she felt his cock nudge at her pussy. Hannah rose up slightly on her knees, allowing Scars to run the thick crown over her slit, gathering her cream, making her burn hotter.

  It was a sensory overload of ecstasy.

  He teased the opening of her pussy, not penetrating her, just gently hiding her pussy hole before dragging his length back up her slit and running along her clit with it. Then he’d repeat the process and drag it back down to her hole.

  “Don’t make me beg,” she whispered, pleaded.

  He groaned and lodged the tip of his massive cock at her core. She rocked her hips slightly, trying to sink down on him, but his hands on her waist stilled her.

  “Look at me,” he demanded softly.

  Hannah lifted her gaze from his chest to his face. There was a softness in his eyes that had a breath leaving her.

  “You’re mine.”

  She licked her lips and nodded right as she pressed down and he lifted his hips. His cock started to tunnel into her, and wave after wave of ecstasy washed through her as he filled her.

  She had her hands on his shoulders now as she continued to sink down, taking half of him. He kissed her, his mouth and tongue ravenous. He curved his fingers into her hips and pushed her down swiftly, making her take all his cock.

  “Ahhh,” she groaned and tipped her head back, her eyes closed and her nails digging into the skin at his shoulders.

  Then she rose up and pushed back down, over and over again. A low rumble vibrated from his throat and worked its way into her core. For long minutes, she was the one in control, sliding her slick pussy over his cock, grinding herself on him when he was fully inside her body, then repeating the process.

  Her orgasm built to a fever pitch as she bounced on him, and all the while, he held her waist, aided her motions as she rode him.

  And then the pleasure crashed through her, starting at her toes and exploding through the top of her head. And right before her climax waned, Scars tightened his hold on her waist, lifted her off his lap, flipped her onto her hands and knees, and positioned himself behind her.

  She couldn’t breathe as blood rushed to her head from the sudden movement, but when she lowered her head and looked down the length of her body and between her legs, it was to see Scars holding his impossibly thick, massive cock in hand.

  He had his free hand on the center of her back, pushed her upper body forward, and she buried her face in the pillow, smelling his scent, getting drunk off of it.

  She felt him pull her legs apart wider so he could move between them, and just when she thought he’d slam back into her, Hannah felt his warm breath skate along her exposed pussy.

  He buried his face in between her legs, swiping his tongue along her folds and humming in pleasure.

  His big palms were on either side of her ass, spreading the cheeks as he ate her out. Scars licked and sucked at her until she was thrusting back against his face. And when his mouth latched onto her clit and he sucked long and hard, her orgasm raced to the surface.

  “Mmmm,” he murmured and drew out that pleasure.

  He left her unhinged.

  And then Hannah felt the hot, hard length of him slide against her slit. She was wet, so incredibly dripping, that the tip of his shaft slid right into her channel. Scars groaned behind her as if in pain, and her inner muscles clenched down hard.

  “Fuck, that’s it. Take my cock.” He sank all the way in until she felt the brush of his balls hit her flesh.

  He moved out and then pushed back in. It was agonizingly slow, but he didn’t make her beg again. His pace started picking up until he was fucking her hard and fast, grunting and growling behind her like an animal.

  The sounds of their sexes slapping together filled her head and made her high.

  He held onto her waist tight and continued to pound into her. The sounds he made were untamed and uninhibited. It was a feral noise that matched how she felt inside. He worked his hips against her with a fierceness that had her gasping and holding onto the sheets.

  She swore she could feel every inch of his thickness pulse inside her.

  His hands moved down to grip her ass, and he kneaded the globes, making a gasp of pleasure leave her. And when he spread them, dragging his cock in and out of her, no doubt seeing the action in full focus, no obstructions, she felt her cry of pleasure escape.

  Another orgasm coursed through Hannah almost violently, as if she couldn’t think, breathe, or even move as it claimed every single inch of her.

  “Fuck, Hannah,” Scars growled out, and then she felt him tense behind her as he found his own release. He slammed into her once more then fully stilled, his groan of completion muted against her back, his hot breath skating along her flesh and sending more sparks of pleasure through her.

  This wasn’t just about sex, wasn’t Scars fucking her or making love to her. It was about both of them coming together in a blinding light, of Scars helping her heal from the inside out. He made her feel whole, and Hannah had never experienced that before, never thought it was even possible.

  But it seemed with Scars, anything could happen, and she welcomed what that meant for their future.

  The intimacy, the chemistry that moved between them so they stole her very sanity. She was dizzy, hazy with her emotions. And when the heavy weight of his chest was no longer covering her back, she cried out on the inside from that lack of contact with him. But he pulled her into an embrace only a second later, spooning with her, holding her tightly to his much bigger, harder body.

  The heaviness of sleep started to fall on her, and she turned in his arms so she could rest her cheek against his firm chest. The sound of his heart beating started to lull her to sleep, and with the protection of his arms caging her in his warmth, how she felt so small, so feminine against him, had a smile forming on her lips.

  “What now?” she found herself asking softly. He smoothed a big hand up and down her back then felt him kiss the top of her head.

  “We move forward, start over… together.”

  And in that moment, she’d never heard anything that sounded more perfect.

  “It’s us now, baby. You and me. Tha
t’s how it’ll always be, Hannah.”

  Yes. That was how it would always be.

  Epilogue One

  Several months later

  The months had flown by in a blur of happiness and surprise. Surprise, because Hannah never saw herself smiling this much, loving the touch of a man—her man—or needing it like she needed to breathe.

  But here she was, surrounded by big, scary-looking bikers, who in reality weren’t that scary at all. Not to the ones they considered family.

  The Vicious Bastards MC wasn’t anything like she could have ever imagined. She’d never thought twice about motorcycle clubs, but it was very obvious that the core of them was their love for each other and their club.

  They stayed at the cabin for only a week after the Landon incident, and truthfully, she couldn’t have waited any longer to leave. The memories tied to it now tainted by Landon’s presence and subsequent death had her tense and upset. Scars had seen that, and he’d told her they were leaving. She was leaving with him.

  She’d never agreed to anything faster.

  And once they’d gotten into the town of Reckless, once she was in Scars’ house, surrounded by his things, his scent, she’d felt strangely… at home.

  And now here she was, several weeks later, sitting at the table in the center of the Vicious Bastards’ clubhouse, her belly full from the family-style meal they’d all had and enjoyed, and her heart overflowing with love.

  She recognized the men who’d come to take Landon away that night, but they never let on and certainly didn’t speak of it.

  “What happens in the club stays in the club. You’ll always be safe. No matter what.”

  Scars’ words echoed in her mind, and she felt this calming sensation fill her for some reason.

  The MC had welcomed her with open arms, started joking about Scars finally finding “The One,” that they’d never seen him so light and free, so happy. And the whole time, he kept his arm around her and growled that she was his and they better respect her like they respected him.

 

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