I flopped onto my back, sighing dramatically. “What can’t wait?”
Leaning down, he grabbed my ankle and jerked me to the end of the bed.
“Hey!”
Pulling me from tangled sheets, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and legs, then picked me up as if I weighed nothing. “Come. We’re going to have a shower.”
I wanted to fight—to win and reward myself by never leaving the bed, but beneath his amused expression lurked anxiety and a lot of rage.
“What is it?” I murmured, cupping his cheek and drawing his eyes to mine.
He swallowed back the dark emotions swirling on his face, shaking his head. “Nothing.” Stalking toward the bathroom, he kissed my forehead. “Do you know I’ve never touched or been close to anyone like I am with you? I’ve never picked up a woman or wanted her naked flesh against mine.”
My heart twisted to think of him with other women, but then warmed into a smug glow. I smiled. “Is it wrong that I like you being brutal to other girls? That I’m the only one that captured this?” I traced his chest where his heart beat beneath my fingertips, eyeing up his healing wound on his mirroring pectoral.
He grinned, gaze going soft. “Nope. I’m glad you’re still jealous. It makes me feel wanted.”
I laughed as he placed me on the floor of the bathroom. “Oh, you’re most definitely wanted.”
His stance changed from happy to sexually hungry. “Stop it. I want to wash you. Not fuck you.”
I blinked innocently. “You could do both.”
A dark smile stretched his lips and he stepped into the large shower. Turning on the spray, he reached for me, jerking me under the raining hot water.
My hair became instantly drenched as Arthur raised his head beneath the torrent and opened his mouth to capture cascading droplets. Water rippled down his front, darting over muscles and teasing the hard piece of equipment between his legs.
I wanted him. Badly.
He opened his eyes, water glittering on his eyelashes. “Want something, Cleo?” His tone was laced with a challenge and cockiness.
Just for that, I turned my back on him. “No, not really.” I hid my smile as I reached for the body wash and squirted masculine-smelling bubbles all over my body. My legs trembled as I washed away Arthur’s remnants of pleasure from my inner thighs, clenching from any stimulation on such a sensitive area.
“Not really?” Arthur purred behind me. “You’re saying if I pressed you against the tiles and slid my cock inside you, you wouldn’t be interested?”
I shivered as his body heat moved closer, barricading me between the glass and him.
“Stop that,” I ordered. “You’re the one who has big plans today. I’m busy.”
His hands wrapped around me, capturing my soapy wrists and hauling them fast and hard above my head. His weight crushed mine, pinning me against slippery cold glass.
Instantly my heart rate skyrocketed, and I swallowed back a needful moan.
“You’re busy?” he whispered, rocking his erection against my ass. “Too busy to pay attention to me?”
My tongue tied into lustful knots. I had no come back.
Dropping one hand from my wrists, he splayed his fingers on my chest, tweaking my nipple and lathering the glistening bubbles. “I’m the one who gets to wash you. Not you. Only my hands are allowed here”—his soapy fingers trailed down my stomach and cupped my core—“and here.”
I bit my lip as his touch turned firm, rubbing my clit with steel-minded determination.
Harder and lower, his pressure made my legs stumble; I splayed my hands on the glass for balance, my wrists still captured in his grip.
He groaned in pleasure. “God, you look good like that.” His teeth bit into my shoulder. “Spread your legs.”
My breathing picked up as I obeyed. I spread my legs quickly, and he angled his knee between them. I gasped as he let my wrists go, clasping my waist with both hands. Then his thumbs pressed heavenly into the base of my spine.
“Oh God.” I lost the ability to stand under such glorious torture.
“He won’t help you, Cleo. Might as well implore my name instead.”
My lips parted as he kneaded my ass, my muscles clenching as his touch turned inward. Every gentle massage sent shock waves through me as he worked his way to my belly.
“Please, Art. Touch me.”
My legs trembled as he obeyed, his strong fingers capturing my clit. His arm wrapped around me, locking our wet bodies against each other, deliberately making me aware of how damn hard he was.
“Cleo, fuck, I want you.”
I thrust my pussy harder into his touch. “More—”
My eyes flared as he sank a finger inside me.
“More?” he whispered, his voice deserting him in favor of cracked lust and sinful desire. He rocked behind me. “More of what?”
My mind filled with fizzling pinwheels as he drew tingles and wetness from my core. “More of everything. You. Your touch. Your mouth. Your…” Words escaped me as he withdrew his finger and thrust two together, stretching me, deliberately reminding I was erotically bruised from his claiming last night. “I need you, Art. So damn much.”
His teeth sank deep into my neck. His arm wrapped tighter, holding me in place as he fingered me.
My legs tried to scissor together. An orgasm hovered just out of reach. I was so turned on even the glass against my nipples was bliss.
I moaned, rocking in his hold.
Suddenly, he let me go, removing his fingers and turning off the shower.
I blinked. “What—”
“Move, Cleo. My self-control is close to snapping, but there’s something I want to do first.” Tapping my butt, he hurried me from the shower on unsteady legs. Every movement amplified the swollen need in my pussy.
He didn’t grab a towel or let me dry off. Taking my hand, he didn’t say a word as we padded wet and dripping back into the bedroom.
Traversing the floor quickly, he spun me forward, using inertia to throw me backward onto the bed. I gasped as I crashed onto my spine, staring at the man who ran a motorcycle club and made a fortune trading the markets. The man who looked at me as if he wanted to eat me alive.
Grabbing my hips, he slid me to the edge of the bed, then slammed to his knees.
My heart rate exploded, every remaining sense and atom shot to my centre.
Pulling my legs apart, his eyes burned with fire. “Fuck, I want to taste you.”
I bowed off the bed, a loud cry wrenched from my lungs as his hot, wet mouth latched onto my pussy.
“Shit!”
His tongue came out fast and flat, licking me like a delicious predator deciding if he wanted to devour me quickly or slowly.
I couldn’t stay still as his tongue slicked to my entrance, dipping once inside me. “Oh God.” My back arched as every part of my body spasmed. “Arthur!”
He placed one hand on my belly, pushing me flat against the bed, the other started at my ankle, trailing quickly up my inner thigh, up and up until he touched my clit. With his tongue licking and teeth nibbling, he pushed two fingers deep. So fast. So swift.
I had no hope of remaining sane.
My hands dove into his silky long hair, clutching the shower-dampened roots. He made a noise I instantly adored: a cross between an arrogant growl and a groan of desire.
His tongue moved faster, licking me, tasting me.
With urgent hands, he draped my tattooed leg over his shoulder, dragging me closer to his eager mouth.
When he paused, breathing hard and dousing me in hot air but no tongue, I squirmed. Tilting my hips toward his lips, I moaned, “Please… Art…”
He grumbled deep and low in his chest, his large hands trembling a little on my hips. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. You’re drugging me.” Then his mouth captured my throbbing clit, sending me bowing off the bed.
Every muscle and sinew locked into place as his tongue drifted lower, teasing my entrance with tentative hes
itation.
“Yes. Yes…” I grabbed more of his hair, tugging him, completely caught up in needing his tongue inside me.
With a sharp spear, he drove it deep. Fucking me with heat and wetness, his breath hot between my thighs.
The buildup of the shower, the animalistic way his tongue drank me, and the erotic image of his long hair obscuring his eyes as his head bowed between my legs sent me spiraling toward the stars. The band of an orgasm shattered everything left inside. It built and built and built. My eyes rolled and every part of my body transcended.
Arthur sucked and nipped, thrusting and stroking.
I clutched the bedspread. My vision went black as my body combusted beneath his skillful touch.
“God!” I couldn’t breathe as wave after wave of mind-twisting sensation sparked through my core. He skillfully brought me to the fastest release I’d ever had.
The moment I stopped rippling around his tongue, he raised his head. The smug satisfaction in his eyes sent shy happiness skating over me.
Standing, he didn’t say a word—he didn’t have to. His gaze said everything he needed. Using his fingers, still wet from being inside me, he touched my hip, and coaxed me to roll from back to stomach.
The moment I pressed my cheek comfortably against the mattress, he positioned himself behind and slid, fast, hard, and entirely possessive, inside.
“Yes,” he hissed, sinking deep, his cock as hard as stone.
Part of me wanted to rest; the other part wanted to drive high again and explode just as completely. Arthur captured my hips, pulling me backward to meet his thrust. “Damn, you tasted fucking good. Never tasted a woman before.” His cock stretched me relentlessly.
I could barely think; talking was a mission to Mars in effort. “You’ve never done that?”
His cock stroked hard, setting a punishing pace. “No. Never had anyone’s mouth around me either. Didn’t want to. Couldn’t—”
Love erupted in my heart and another orgasm caught me completely by surprise. My legs locked together, wrapping around him from behind as he fucked me hard.
He groaned, driving faster toward his release.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he snarled.
“Come!” I begged. “Please.”
He growled as his pace increased, then his entire body stiffened as he spurted inside me. Feeling him let go—giving in to me and becoming powerless in that second—my body unraveled for a second time. Not as intense as the first, but my core gripped his cock, milking him with pleasure.
Shuddering shock waves passed from his body to mine, our hearts thrumming out of control.
I froze.
He took me from behind.
What did that mean?
Don’t read into it.
I didn’t want to let the fact he’d flipped me onto my stomach be anything upsetting. Just habit probably, or he’d felt too much and needed some normalcy after a night of touching, loving, and togetherness.
He slid out slowly, flopping down spent beside me. His long hair obscured one eye and his chest still glittered with droplets in a mixture of shower and sweat.
Rolling closer to him, I brushed dark strands off his forehead. “For a novice, you were amazing.”
His eyes opened, glassy and lust-sated. He chuckled. “I plan on becoming an expert. Now that I’ve tasted you, I never want to stop.”
I’ve never had anyone’s lips around me. If that was true, he’d never had a blow job. And for the life of me I couldn’t remember if I’d ever given one to the brown-eyed boy I’d lost my virginity to.
I smiled gently. “Well, it seems as though I owe you a favor.”
He froze, then a satisfied grin spread his lips. “I agree. You do.” His eyes locked with mine and the sharpest, keenest love whipped between us.
I sucked in a breath. “Now?”
He sat up and kissed me, brushing my nose with his. “No. We’ve wasted too much time already. I have to get to the Club. I want answers.”
Disappointment settled in my heart, but then anticipation replaced it. I could wait to give him pleasure. After all, we had all the time in the world now. We’d found each other. Nothing could ruin that.
Nothing.
“Answers?” I stretched, my body feeling used and taken.
Arthur climbed off the bed, heading to the bathroom for a second shower. He turned by the door, saying, “Don’t you find it strange that it was you who were stolen?”
I sat up, a cold draft howling down my back. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
Yes, I do find it very strange.
Lighter Boy came to mind and all the questions I’d been avoiding swarmed with determination.
His emerald eyes darkened to moss. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”
I agree. “I’m sure it’s explainable.”
He bared his teeth. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I went eight years thinking you were dead. Then you just turn up because my Club stole you—against orders—to traffic you into slavery? It doesn’t make sense.”
I couldn’t stop the animosity replacing our postcoital glow. I’ve been thinking the same thing. “What are you saying?”
That someone knew who I was? Before I remembered? Before all of this?
He glared across the room. “I think there’s a lot more than we both know. And I mean to get answers.”
“But how? What if—”
His hands balled into fists. “I’ll make them talk by any means necessary, even if I have to spill blood to do it.”
The compound was quiet when we arrived.
Most of the men I’d met at the pizza lunch weren’t there. In fact, the whole place looked deserted.
“How many rooms are there here?” I asked, following obediently behind Arthur. My jeans and yellow T-shirt were a splash of color in the dark grey–and–wooden floor décor.
Arthur looked completely in control in his black jeans and T-shirt with his leather jacket. There wasn’t a hint of the soft, vulnerable man who’d had his tongue between my legs only hours before.
He’s my secret.
Kill the biker president had replaced my soul mate, Art. I just had to learn how to love both of them—despite what he’d done.
“There are ten bedrooms, three common areas, a few offices, and the garage. Why?”
“No reason. Just wondering. And you never stay here? Do the others?”
He chuckled. “I stayed when I first arrived. But that was before the renovation and cleanup—before the crew embraced what I could do for them and followed my rules.”
There was so much I didn’t know: What had he been up against? How had he been incarcerated? How had he found freedom?
So much to learn before we could reconcile completely. I loved a stranger. There would be nothing powerful enough to stop my love—time had tried and failed—everything else was inconsequential. Whatever existed between us was steadfast and immune, but it didn’t mean I would blindly follow him if he was doing things that were morally wrong.
“And you expect your men to stay here, but you don’t?”
Arthur stopped. “When did I ever say they lived here? This place belongs to everyone. At the same time it belongs to no one. It’s a place of sanctuary, brotherhood, and business. Before I took over, it was a requirement for each man, including the president, to live on home turf. To put their brothers over wives and kids, to put the Club before blood. It made for an unbalanced family.
“Men need the softness they get from women—they need to be reminded of their value and rules placed on them by loved ones. Living together, taking orders, never having something of their own that wasn’t already claimed by the Club made for anger, discord, and a fucking lot of fighting. Sure, they were loyal, but this way—my way—means they get the love of their blood and family, and their loyalty and regiment of their Club.”
Love of a woman. The love he never had. He’d tried to give his men what he would never have.
My heart broke al
l over again.
He smiled softly. “Win-win.”
I wanted to tell him I understood—that I got why he needed his men to value love above everything, but I didn’t want to point out something so tender. Instead, something tugged at my brain, wanting to break free but still prisoner to my mind. “That’s not how we were raised, though. Is it?”
Arthur smiled. “You remember that?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just a feeling.”
He took my hand, squeezing. “You’ll remember soon enough. I’m with you now. I’ll piece you back together.”
My heart beat hard at the adoration emanating from him. The words “thank you” rested on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to thank him for loving me, for loving me so much he’d lived a life of utter loneliness while watching his men go home to their families. Such strange things to be grateful for, but if he hadn’t—
Horror lodged quickly in my throat.
If he’d laid my ghost to rest, he might’ve found love with another. I might’ve turned up to find him happily married… with kids and no feelings left for me.
Oh God.
“Hey…” Arthur cupped my chin, bringing my eyes to his. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
I gave him a watery smile. “I’m being an idiot.”
He pressed his lips gently against mine, stealing the horror in my heart and replacing it with love. “I agree. You’re being an idiot.”
My eyes flared. “Hey, you’re not supposed to agree with me.” Huffing, I added, “Plus, you don’t even know what I was thinking about.”
His face softened, his hands grabbing my waist and holding me close. “Don’t I? Don’t you think I’ve thought about it?”
“Thought about what?”
His eyes tightened. “About letting you go…”
My heart flopped in a faint. “Eight years, Art. I would’ve understood. The grief…”
I would never have understood. You’re mine.
He kissed me again, whispering against my mouth. “No matter how much I wished I could forget, I couldn’t. You stole my heart and soul, Cleo. There was nothing left to give anyone else. I gave up trying to forget you and focused on other things.”
I almost crumbled to the floor in a weird combination of thankfulness and guilt.