Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(64)

“Knife fight in Sturgis, not long after I'd earned my bottom rocker.” He smiled. “Trust me, the motherf*ckers had it coming. I scarred their asses ten times as bad as what they did to me. I got off lucky – a couple inches higher and they'd have taken out my eye.”

Frowning, I shook my head. “Don't you ever get tired of it? The constant danger and fighting, I mean?”

He laughed. Deep, rich baritone that seemed to shake the whole forest. His feral edge should've disturbed me, but truly, it didn't do anything but make my nipples tighten and my * tingle.

“Babe, this club's what I live for. It's the only life I've ever known, the only one that makes sense to me.”

“But you're a smart man,” I mused, running my fingers along his stubble. “You're like the club's accountant, aren't you? You could do so much more with your life.”

I tapped the small TREASURER tag underneath his name patch. Skin nodded.

“Yeah, the boys would be lost without me. Lucky for them, I know how to handle the IRS just like the shitheads who disrespect our colors. There's nowhere I'd rather be than behind my bike or drinking with my brothers.”

He paused, deep in thought, and then snorted. “Well, f*ck, maybe I can add one more place to the list...”

“Yeah? Where's that?”

His hand ran through my hair, took my locks in a fist, and pulled them tight. “In you, babe. And I'm not just talking about that sweet * I'm about to f*ck right here. I'm talking about having you with me on the open road, having you in my room, my cabin, my bed. Fuck. I gotta get you out of your parents' place the second we get back. I can't stand having you anywhere else. You belong with me, babe. Here's the proof.”

His hand flowed down my neck and stopped near my new tattoo. It was still a little sore, but I didn't care. I smiled, overwhelmed with new passion, and put my lips on his.

Skin never did anything half way. He kept his word, flipping me around on his lap. His hands worked my jeans and panties down, and he took me right there, sitting on the rocks, squeezing my breasts through my shirt while he f*cked up into me.

The closest I'd ever come to something like this was my last night as the old Megan Wilder, skinny dipping with the girls and the dopey rich guys.

Now, I was being pinned down and f*cked in front of the universe.

Skin grunted, his pleasure rising, pushing his lips against my throat. I moaned, trying to keep it quiet, and failing a few seconds later.

His free hand reached for my clit, found it, and applied his expert pressure as his thrusts quickened. Blood rushed to my head before it arced lower. The distant foaming creek became a roar in my ears, mixed with his curses, his growls, his commands.

“You better f*cking squirt for me, woman. If I pull outta you and my balls aren't soaked, we're not going anywhere 'til you do. Come on, baby girl. I know you can do it. Scream with the birds and the bees out here when you come on my cock.”

Oh, God. Like I could resist.

I wasn't sure what the hell he was talking about, I'd never done anything like that in my life.

My * burned like never before. My hips bobbed up and down on his. I started grunting too, so rough and shallow I barely recognized my own voice, the animal need throbbing through every limb.

“Skin – yes! Let's come together. I want to feel you burst so bad.”

His sharp breath mingled with a low laugh when he heard me whimper the last two words. His cock slowed while his fingers moved faster, and his teeth sank into my neck.

I felt like I had a rocket between my legs, or a dam about to burst. The harsh blood tearing through me became a torrent, something I couldn't hold back, no matter how hard I tried.

My knees started shaking. It didn't stop me from bucking as hard as I could, riding his cock, f*cking him just like a whore for the first time in my miserable life.

I'd been forced to sell myself to those other men. I hadn't really enjoyed sex with anyone before Skin. I'd been too self-conscious, too focused on what they could do to me, or too scared, just wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible.

With the biker sinking his teeth into my neck, marking me, all of that faded. It died in the explosive urge to please him, to feel him fused to me in the height of my own pleasure.

I had to let go.

“Come the f*ck on, Meg. Stop holding back. Your little *'s gonna soak every damn inch of me when I fill you, right?'

I couldn't answer him at first. I was right on the verge – if only he'd give me something more, add his body pounding strokes to mine, spill his seed inside me.

His hand jerked my hair, pulling my ear to his lips. “I asked you a f*cking question. Answer me, babe!”

“Yes,” I hissed, barely a whisper.

His cock sped up. Shit.

So. Fucking. Close.

“You feel that fire building between your legs?” He growled. “You're gonna give it all to me. I'm gonna walk you through the damned mountains dripping me when we're done. You're my old lady, my girl forever, and you're coming for me anytime I ask. Got it?”

“Yes!”

“Fuck yeah, you do.”

Yeah, I did.

His hold on my body tightened. His cock sped up, hammering into me with the full force of his hips, all the masculine strength he had focused around my clit.