His strokes became longer. Deeper. Harder.
Driving me crazy.
Slowing down the building orgasm that I wanted so badly.
I chewed my lip but couldn’t stop the escape of the low moan that slipped from my lips. “Shotgun, please,” I groaned, trying to hold my body in place as the power of his thrusts escalated again, building harder and driving me into the bed.
A deep growl rumbled in his chest, and suddenly he was fucking gone, my body cold, his cock slipping from inside me.
He sat back, looking down at me. “Don’t you dare come,” he demanded, his hand reaching out, his thumb brushing over my sensitive clit.
My body jumped, and I dug my heels into the bed, my orgasm almost slapping me in the face before he withdrew again.
“Shotgun!” I screamed, wriggling and fighting, my breathing erratic. I wrapped my legs around his waist, anchoring myself to him and forcing him deeper. “Please!”
“Please what?”
“Please let me come,” I groaned out, fighting the burn that I knew I was never going to be able to stop in a few seconds.
“Come now,” he growled as his hand dipped between my legs and his thumb rubbed at my swollen clit just one more time.
“Shit,” I cried out as the world around me shattered into pieces. I felt like I was falling, but there was no use. I had nothing to grab hold of. My body exploded, and I screamed out his name as the waves of my orgasm rolled over and over. It was so intense, so fucking strong that I wondered whether they would ever stop.
“Fuck!” he cursed. “You’re squeezing the life out of me.” He pulled back suddenly, my pussy still twitching and clenching as he flipped me over onto my stomach, my face suddenly buried in the duvet, and my hands still pulled above my head.
He slipped in behind me, his body following the curve of mine as he slammed back inside me from behind, setting off a whole new sensation, an entire new feeling of pleasure washing over me. The new angle had me tossing my head back, his cock now pressing upward as he altered his stance and angle. His hands grabbed my ass in fistfuls, pulling my cheeks apart so he could drive deeper and deeper.
I screamed into the duvet, calling his name when I exploded again, this time, dragging him with me off the side of the cliff as my pussy spasmed tightly around his cock. “Good girl,” he groaned with each jerky thrust as he emptied himself. His body settling over mine, his hips still moving as he shifted my hair to the side and began pressing gentle kisses down my spine.
“Goddammit,” I mumbled breathlessly, turning my head to the side as he nuzzled his face into my neck. His body pressed against mine, his brow pulled together, and his arms shaking as he tried to hold himself up like he hadn’t just come so hard.
It really was perfect.
I didn’t want to move.
I could have laid there forever, the both of us simply lost in an orgasmic state like nothing else in life mattered.
Eventually, he reached up, undoing the belt around my wrists and releasing me from my captivity before turning me over onto my back. He fell to the bed beside me, and unconsciously I curled into his side, my arm falling over his chest and my head tucking into his shoulder.
He turned, kissing my forehead. “I could spend every day of the rest of my fucking life touching you, kissing you, making you come.”
The thought would usually make me panic, cause my heart to race. I could already hear the little voices in my head beginning their screaming, telling me to run. To get out before I got attached.
The thing was it was too late.
I was attached.
To this man who had done nothing but protect me, care for me, and show me a side of himself that I knew others didn’t get to see. He trusted me with his son at a time where he wasn’t sure if he was capable of trusting himself.
And I was starting to realize that I was falling.
Hard.
It was like there was a shift like a kaleidoscope moving.
Each color represented my emotions—the good, the bad, the ugly. And as my world changed and adjusted, the kaleidoscope twisted. Colors that were prominent before, like my fear of losing another person I loved, shrunk away and something brighter and more beautiful grew.
A pattern of perseverance, loyalty, and passion was breaking through, creating something so amazing and breathtaking. And I knew those fears, they were still there, and one day when my kaleidoscope shifted again. they would return, but I was learning to trust the process. Trust that I could control which patterns and colors shined brighter.
It would take practice.
And I was willing to put it in.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“That would be fucking amazing,” I agreed, surprising him a little, I think. “But I left your child with the new nanny, and I need to go see how he’s coping.”
I pecked him on the head and leaped off the bed before Shotgun had a chance to grab me.
“I’m sure the boy is fine. You’ve seen the way he gets passed around downstairs before bed.” Shotgun laughed, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, I didn’t mean Gage, I meant the nanny,” I called back over my shoulder, snatching a towel and wrapping it around my body before making a dash for the door.
“Did you say the nanny is a he?”
SHOTGUN
My dark glasses hid the glare in my eyes as college students walked by me.
Some in awe.
Some intrigued.
Others just fucking petrified I was going to steal their fucking wallets.
I guess that was one of the amusing parts about being in the club. People thought we were these lowlife petty thieves who went around pickpocketing people’s spare change or stealing their 1998 Honda so we could trade it in for parts that might make us a couple hundred dollars. They think I have the fucking time for that shit?
Running the club means keeping my finger on the pulse of every fucking thing that brings income into the club, and there were a lot of fucking things. Legal businesses like Empire and Dynasty. Investments. Properties. And a couple of small side things that I would deny ever happened if I was under oath.
I saw him coming from a mile away. Tall, athletic, surrounded by girls who for some reason thought they had a fucking chance with him—the guy too polite to tell them he wasn’t interested.
Not even fucking slightly.
He’d slipped out a couple of days ago before I got to meet him, but he was meant to be moving into the clubhouse this afternoon, and I was about to have the final say on whether or not that I was going to happen. “Manny!” I called out, shoving away from my ride and folding my arms across my chest.
His head snapped up, his eyes instantly finding me.
The group around him whispered, tugging at his shirt and trying to pull him back as he squared his shoulders and made that first step toward me. Balls. He had fucking balls. At least that was something.
I didn’t want any fucking pussy looking after Gage.
My life wasn’t exactly sunshine and fucking rainbows. The club had its fair share of problems and enemies. Bastards who often had no code when it came to who they would hurt to get to me—the club president—the man who has to give out the fucking orders.
“You rang?” he questioned, pulling to a stop just a few feet from me and mirroring my stance. We were around the same height, the same build, but where this kid was blond, blue-eyed, and running around in wifebeaters, shorts, and Nikes, my dark leather, jeans, and glare were quite the contrast. It was like an angel standing in front of the devil, and with the amount of blood on my hands, honestly, it wasn’t far from the truth. But this was why I needed to know exactly who was walking into my clubhouse, and he needed to know exactly what the fuck he was stepping into.