Reaper's Property (Reapers MC, #1)(41)

“Gotta get used to me, babe,” he murmured, dropping kisses across my face before taking my mouth again for the first time without urgency. “I’ll take it slow.”

And he did. Gradually I felt myself relax around him, and when he started stroking, that big cock of his rubbed against me in places I hadn’t even realized existed. Gradually he moved faster and I started lifting my hips to meet his, body eager for more. Usually I don’t come from vaginal sex alone—I need more stimulation for my clit. Horse was different though, because his body was big enough to spread me wide open, exposing my center to the delicious slide of his erection as he pumped in and out of my body. Having my arms pinned wide added to the experience because I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I had to take what he gave me, no arguments, and that was weirdly liberating—utterly guilt-free sex.

I don’t think even a minute went by before I came, arching my back up from the bed, every muscle in my body squeezing hard enough to hurt.

That’s when he let go and started f*cking me for real.

Horse went from gentle lover to biker thug, rising on his knees as he released my arms. He grabbed my waist, lifting and tilting my pelvis to provide a better angle as he literally f*cked himself with my body. I have no idea how much time passed, but I know at one point I reached down and rubbed my clit, chasing a second orgasm. When it hit and I clenched around him again, he fell over the edge, exploding inside me. He dropped me back down on the bed, covering me as his cock bucked and shuddered his release.

Holy shit.

We both stilled, panting as we recovered. Then Horse rolled off me, stood up and pulled off the condom, tossing it in the little trash can next to the dresser. He walked out of the room without a word, leaving me in the darkness.

I’ve never felt more alone in my life.



I woke up to bright sunlight and silence.

Rolling out of bed, I winced at the soreness between my legs, although I couldn’t say I regretted it. I’d never come like that before, not even with my vibrator. I pulled on a tank with a shelf bra and jeans without panties. I hadn’t thought to rinse my others out last night, and I certainly wasn’t going to put them back on dirty. Horse may have declared my privates a panty-free zone, but we needed to have words about that. No way I wanted to go commando permanently.

I hit the bathroom and then walked downstairs, listening for sounds of life.

“Horse, you here?” I called. He didn’t answer, but I heard the clicking sound of a dog’s toenails on the wooden floor. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with dogs, and this one sounded big to me.

Horse wouldn’t leave me alone with a violent animal, I told myself firmly. He might be a jerk but he didn’t want me dead. I peeked over the banister, poised to run back up to my room if it turned out to be a monster. Instead I found a mid-sized dog with long silver-black hair broken by white streaks looking up at me hopefully. Its mouth hung open in a wide puppy grin, tongue flopped to the side.

Not exactly a killer.

“Hey there,” I said softly, working my way down the stairs. The dog watched me intently, mouth closing as it took on the fixed look of a herd dog at work, ready for anything. I reached the bottom of the steps and held my hand out low. The dog approached me, sniffed my hand and then started butting against it for a scratch. I obliged as the dog melted to the floor, writhing in ecstasy.

“You’re not much more than a puppy,” I murmured. “I’ll bet you fly when you jump—do you like chasing sticks?”

“Be careful what you say to him,” Horse said. “You start making promises, he’ll hold you to them. Takes a hell of a long time to tire him out too.”

“I didn’t think you were here,” I muttered.

“Not all of us make noise constantly,” he replied. “You sounded like a herd of moose up there.”

I scowled.

“I did not sound like a moose,” I said. “It’s not my fault the floors are old and creaky.”

“I didn’t say you sounded like a moose,” he replied, an almost friendly expression on his face. “I said you sounded like a herd of moose. There’s a big difference.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“I made breakfast,” he said, jerking his chin toward the kitchen. “It’s not much. I want you to take over the cooking and shit, but I was hungry and you weren’t moving.”

I blushed, thinking about why I’d been tired, and he gave a low, satisfied chuckle.

“That’s Ariel, by the way,” he added, jerking his chin toward the dog. “But I call him Ari.”

I stared at him.

“You have a boy dog named Ariel?” I asked, not quite sure I’d heard him right.

“My niece named him,” Horse replied, shrugging. “Would break her heart to change it and I figure the dog doesn’t give a shit. I can live with Ari.”

I nodded, biting the side of my cheek. Once again, the badass biker was a mystery. He issued threats, carried a gun that I was pretty sure he knew how to use, and he let his little niece name his dog after a mermaid.

Split personality, no question.

Breakfast wasn’t fancy but it was surprisingly good. He’d made French toast with some ham on the side and wedges of ripe, juicy cantaloupe. The meal followed the same pattern as the night before, except this time he told me to put together a shopping list after we finished. Then he disappeared, taking the dog with him.