Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(38)

“Perfect,” she purred. “Does he eat you out?”

“I’m hanging up now!”

“What? It’s a legitimate question and a deal breaker for me. If a guy isn’t going to go down on—”

I hung up.

Two seconds later my phone vibrated, signaling a new text message.

What about stamina? Is he a one, two pump?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I was in heaven.

Two days ago my father had come back from New York, officially ending lockdown. The club had gone into secret meeting mode and I’d gone home with Eva and Ivy. The next morning my father and Cage, along with half the club, left for North Dakota.

And now…I was in heaven.

And my heaven consisted of the bare bones of a home, if you could even call Ripper’s tiny, one-bedroom log cabin in the middle of nowhere, a home. He didn’t even have real dishware, only plastic plates and cups and, yes, plastic sporks. There were no curtains or carpets, no pictures or paintings on the walls, nothing was personal except a small picture of his parents he had on his bedside table. They were conservative-looking people, well dressed with an air of importance about them. His mother was a strikingly beautiful woman and his father, an older, clean-cut version of Ripper minus the long hair and scars. They looked nothing like I’d thought the parents of my gruff and overbearing biker would have looked.

My biker.

My biker, whose hands—beautifully large and covered in deliciously rough, hardened skin—were groping me as I lay naked on my back. Sneaking past the slats of the window blinds, warm rays of sunlight were warming my skin wherever they landed. Heaven.

“You hungry?” Ripper whispered, licking at the side of my neck.

Was I hungry? Oh my god, who cared about food? I was sore everywhere, I was excited and nervous and insanely happy and scared out of my mind and…

“Baby,” he said, grinning, “you gotta be hungry. I know I’m hungry. We haven’t left this f*ckin’ bed in twenty-four motherf*ckin’ hours. Let’s get you in the shower, and then you can make us somethin’ to eat.”

“Mmm,” I murmured, hooking my arms around his neck. “Whatever you say.”

“Whatever I say?” He laughed as he dragged me out of bed and into the hallway. “Careful, beautiful girl, I might take you up on that.”

Like I’d care. Whatever he wanted me to do, whatever he wanted to do to me, I already knew the answer would be a thousand times yes. I was at the point of no return, falling hard for a man I’d had more sex with than conversations. But for some reason, it didn’t seem strange to me.

Every time he moved inside of me, looking up into his gaze, it felt as if we had already spoken a million words at a million different times.

We existed in a world where words weren’t needed. Everything I needed to know, everything he was feeling, I could already see on his face and feel through his touch.

And what I saw, what I felt, was…

He loved me.

I don’t know how I knew, because I’d never been loved by a man who wasn’t my father or my brother, loving me only out of familial obligation. Never, ever like this, nothing in my life had ever felt like this, but somehow I knew…I just knew.

In the bathroom, inside the large tub shower, my eyes closed, I reveled in his touches, his kisses, as the hot water poured down over us, washing away hours upon hours of sweat and sex that I was determined to put right back on us.

“You’re killin’ me.” He groaned as I cupped him and began stroking him back to life.

“Ripper,” I begged, feeling like I would burst if I didn’t have this man inside of me. Right. Now.

“Please…now…please…”

I couldn’t get enough.

I would never get enough.

Pushing me up against the wall, he gripped my side with one hand; his other slid down my leg and grabbed a hold of the back of my knee. Lifting my leg, he situated it high around his waist and then he was there, right where I needed him between my thighs, hard and ready and pushing inside of me.

Moaning, gripping his biceps, I let my body go soft and limp, letting Ripper take complete control.

“Baby.” He groaned, sliding inside of me. “Ah, god, Danny…I gotta see your face, baby, please…”

He stopped, paused to brush several thick clumps of wet hair out of my eyes, and with heavy lids and water-blurred vision, I blinked up at him.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pulling out. My hips jerked up, not wanting to lose him. “You look right at me, beautiful girl. I need to see you, I gotta see that way you f*ckin’ look at me.”

He thrust back inside and my eyes closed as all the air left my body.

“Eyes,” he demanded, pulling out and slamming back inside. “Look at me, Danielle.”

I kept my gaze locked with his. Even when it was nearly impossible to do so. Even when my womb was burning, quivering, and clenching with my release, even when he took me harder and faster, even when my legs were shaking, my body jelly, my mind nothing but mush, still I kept my eyes on him.

“Ripper,” I whispered, clinging to his neck as he carried me from the bathroom into his bedroom. “I think I love you.”

Laying me gently down on his bed, he climbed over top of me and covered me with his body.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered, sliding back inside of me. “Ain’t no other explanation for what a girl like you is doin’ in bed with a man like me.”