Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(92)

She could feel the wave of anger ripple through his body as his fingers dug painfully into her flesh. “You got in the car because of me. You were going to leave.”

“I got in the car because I wanted the passport.” She trembled beneath his touch. “Not because I’d decided to go that night, but because I wanted the option. I wanted to have it in my hand so that I’d know if things went bad, I had a way out. You just … made it easier to get in the car.”

Her words inflamed him. With a growl, he spun her around, backing her up to the wall. She shivered as the cool surface pressed against her bare skin, her nightie providing no protection from the chill.

“I won’t make it easy again.” He bracketed her wrists with one strong hand, lifting her arms and pinning them above her head. “What happened after you drove away?”

Anger and arousal roared through her blood. She writhed in his grasp, but her struggles only heightened her desire, her nipples hardening as they brushed over his solid chest. Jagger forced her legs apart with a thick thigh, the rough denim of his jeans scraping over her sensitive flesh as he held her in place. “Tell me.”

Ah God. How could she save Jeff from Jagger’s wrath? He was lost to her, but she couldn’t be the instrument of his death. “Axle was in the car. Jeff owed him money. He was tweaking and needed a hit. We wound up at Bunny’s.”

“Jesus Christ. Axle.” Jagger spat out the name. “I should have finished him when I had the chance.”

His eyes blazed so hot, she could almost feel the burn, and his pulse throbbed rapidly in his neck. With his gaze fixed firmly on hers, he brushed his fingers along her throat, feathering his way to the top edge of her nightgown.

Then, with a brutal yank, he tore it away.

“Jagger!” Vulnerable, inexplicably ashamed, she tried to turn, hide herself from him, but his hands kept her pinned against the wall, and his thigh held her immobile.

“I thought I made it clear: You don’t go to see Bunny. Ever.”

She bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. “I didn’t have a choice. Axle had a gun.”

He gave a satisfied grunt, then leaned down and nipped her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. Confused by his unpredictable shifts between hot and cold, rough and gentle, she pulled away.

“Is he the one who hit you?” With his free hand, he cupped her breast, kneading it until she physically ached to have him inside her. He brushed his thumb lightly over her nipple, then gave it a rough pinch.

Her body heated, burned for him. And he was hard—so hard, she could feel his arousal against her stomach, smell his hunger thick and hot around her. She rocked her hips, grinding her wet sex against his thigh, hoping to distract him from his questioning, making him lose control.

“Answer.”

Her stomach clenched. He wouldn’t kill Jeff for hurting her, but he wouldn’t let him get away with it either. “They … both did.”

He reacted as she knew he would, his body going rigid, his face smoothing into an expressionless mask. “Jeff hit you, too?”

“I was trying to run away. He was tweaking.”

“Fuck.” He pounded his fist against the wall beside her head. “Jesus Christ, Arianne.”

Torn between fear and arousal, she tried to pull away, but he slid a hand between them, his fingers reaching inside her panties to stroke her wet curls. Arianne’s body arched and trembled, but when she licked her lips, a bitter taste coated her tongue. “I don’t want to play this game anymore—”

Her words choked off in a gasp as he lowered his thigh and pushed one finger deep inside her. Her inner walls clenched around him and she bit back a groan.

“What happened at Bunny’s?”

“Bunny wasn’t involved,” she murmured, leaning her forehead against his shoulder as he drew his finger out, then thrust deep again. “He recognized me and let me go. He said he didn’t want to get on your bad side.”

Jagger added a second finger, rubbing along her sensitive inner walls as he penetrated her. Moisture flooded her sex and she rocked shamelessly against his thrusts, seeking a release from the tension coiled through her body.

“I want you, baby,” she whispered.

“I know, sweetheart.” His deep, husky rumble reverberated through her body. “I can feel your heat. I want you, too. But I want something more.”

“What? What do you want?” Her hips pushed against his hand, but his rhythm didn’t change. Too slow. Too shallow. He was in control, and his dominance served only to heighten her arousal.

“I want to know who beat you, tied you up, shot you, and chained you to the wall.”

Dazed, on the precipice of orgasm, her body pulsing and throbbing with need, she almost gave the game away. Almost. “It doesn’t matter. I got away.”

“It matters.” He added a third finger, filling her, stretching her, pounding inside her with an exquisite, brutal intensity. “It’s killing me, sweetheart, because I wasn’t there, and if you don’t tell me who did it to you, I’m gonna lose my f*cking mind.”

“Please … don’t do this, Jagger. Not now.”

“Who?” His voice rose to a shout and he pressed the base of his palm against her clit, sending her arousal spiraling out of control. “Was it Bunny? Axle? Who else was there? Jeff?”