"I hear you, baby girl." Then he pressed his dick to my slit and slowly pushed in.
I stopped caring about rights and started caring about how thick he was. How long.
My spine arched as I slumped against the desk, and I tipped my pelvis up and back so that it was easier for him to fit.
Jesus, I’d missed him.
I’d missed him so much.
When he filled me, all the way, when his thickness pushed the folds of my sex apart and it exposed my clit, when he started to thrust into me, slow at first, I watched him watch us.
And I knew, crazy though it was, he’d never forget this moment.
The first time he was allowed back home—for real.
And I melted.
I just melted.
I let him enjoy himself, let him savor, and then, I started to tease.
Clutching at him, I squeezed my pussy around him, urging him into moving, into remembering, into reacting. Slowly, it worked. He came back to me, and when he looked at me, the joy in his eyes morphed into the feral hunger I recalled from before.
I saw it eat into every other emotion, saw it tear at the bounds of his control, and I reveled in it.
I savored it.
He fucked me, then. He fucked me hard and raw and brutal, and it was like everything I needed, and everything I’d forgotten.
He pounded me so hard that, tomorrow, I knew I’d be sore, and I gloried in it, because this was my man. My personal Storm.
When he came, he filled me with his cum, but carried on thrusting into me, wild and hungry, until I was bucking back. Until he reached for my sensitive clit and dragged me up to the top just to shove me, face first, into an orgasm.
And when I fell, it consumed me.
The flames ripped into me and ravaged me.
Until I knew I had only one choice—to burn in those flames and to be reborn as the woman he craved.
The wife he wanted.
And the Old Lady he needed.
Forty-Four
Storm
Four weeks after August 8th
"Christ, Keira," I muttered thickly, trying not to shoot my wad because I didn’t want this to fucking end.
When my eyes were ready to roll back into my head and with my hands tangled in her hair, I didn’t have enough sense to grab my phone when it started pinging, message after message after fucking message.
I was semi-concerned, but a lot more interested in my dick, and then, I recalled how I’d received the same Code Red text from Digger alerting me that one of our warehouses was on fire but the chat was muted… Shit.
Shit.
Double, triple, quadruple fucking shit.
"Baby girl, I gotta get that."
She pulled back, her lips making a popping sound as she released me, but she surprised me by murmuring, "So get it?" Then she dove back in, and I growled even as I untangled one hand just so I could reach over and grab it.
With her tucked between my knees under my desk in my office, the one place that was soundproofed, I blindly sought my phone then groaned when I saw all the fucking messages.
"Think Rachel gave birth," I rasped. Then, I squinted at the screen. "Or is going into labor. Or her water broke."
She snickered around my dick which definitely had my eyes rolling back into my head. "Is it just one or all of the above?" she asked when she pulled back.
"They all happen on the same day. So…"
"True. The first one is pretty important though," she said mildly, but she sucked on the tip, hard enough to have me growling. "Best get you off fast, huh?" were her next breathy words as she licked her way around my shaft like it was a sucker.
When she started jacking me off, too, I was a fucking goner, and as she swallowed every drop of cum, my head rocked back as I processed how goddamn awesome that felt.
I’d never let her do it before, mostly because that seemed dirty to me, but I liked her dirty. I liked her dirty a lot.
When she wiped the corner of her mouth with a fingertip, I hummed as she reached for the padlock and carefully inserted the shank into the pierced hole before she locked it up nice and tight.
"I’d have preferred you to hop on it rather than lock it," I grumbled.
"Me too," she replied dryly, "but I have a Posse to call."
My nose crinkled, but as she got to her feet once she fastened up my zipper, too, I hauled her onto my lap, hugging her close to me.
I reached for her chin, pressed my lips to hers, then kissed her until she was breathing hard and she was limp and docile against me.
I loved the taste of me on her and couldn’t get enough of it. We were working things out, slowly. The urge to fuck was hard. As hard as fighting the drugs. Now I’d been let loose, and now she was a goddamn wild cat who’d let me bend her over any and everything, I wanted it all.
Now.
But that way led me back down the path I’d already left behind.
I didn’t want to trigger old habits.
Our new rule was that every time I needed her, she was there.
If it was twice or three times, she was there.
And when the urge to jack off hit me, she was there.
It was hot, but oddly enough, it was the accountability I needed.
It’d be easy just to whack one out, but when she was there, when I dragged her into whatever private space I could get, it reminded me that I couldn’t do that twenty plus times a day. She had shit to do, our kid to teach, a life to live. She couldn’t spend her fucking life bent over a desk, on her knees, or with her legs spread.
I loved her too much to put her through that, and as such, though I wanted to bang her from one minute to the next, I controlled it. It helped that, with her, I could lose control now. It helped that she took me as is, no holding back, accepting every part of me—good and bad.
A knock sounded at the door, and I grumbled under my breath. "No fucking privacy."
"They’re breaking ground soon, aren’t they?"
I hummed. "Next week."
"Good."
The plans were all in, the construction firm was one I’d had the Sinners buy into, and five houses were being built simultaneously.
It was a massive project, one that I had a couple of councilors as well as brothers managing. If it all went well, we’d be building more houses once this set was complete, and slowly but surely, every brother with an Old Lady could have a property on there. Some smaller than others, with the club footing the deposit to give them a starting chance, while they saved up the rest.
"Come in," I called out, tugging her back into me when the door opened.
Her cheeks were flushed as Little peered over us both, a wide grin on his face, as he declared, "Mailman was just here."
I arched a brow as he lumbered over, dropping a pile of letters onto the desk before ambling out.
"Did you know he has a twelve-egg white omelet for breakfast?" Keira whispered as he closed the door behind him.
"Not surprised. You should see what he bench presses," I joked as I reached for the pile and started sorting through the letters.
"Your phone’s going crazy," Keira said softly as she watched me.
"I know, I know," I muttered, finally reaching one that had me frowning because it was from the woman of the hour—Rachel.
Curious, I tore the letter open, and found there was a sheet of paper and an envelope inside it.