Rage (A Thunder Gypsies MC Outlaw Biker Romance) (6 page)

“Yes,” I whispered, throat raw from my cries of pleasure. “I need you in me. I need you to make it real.”

“It sure sounded real.” He pressed his chest against mine, flattening my breasts until I didn’t think I could draw another breath.

“Real for you.” I ran my hands over the thick-muscled arms that could lift and control me so easily, then down to the powerful muscles of his thighs and ass. “I want it to be real for you, to have you wet and screaming.”

He still wasn’t in me, his hand positioned between us and blocking my attempts to wiggle onto his cock. I couldn’t understand why he would hold back. Doubt crept in. Had I done something wrong?

“Don’t you want me?” My lips quivered with the question. He shushed me in answer, his mouth moving over the skin of my shoulder and neck in a whisper of kisses. “Please, Callan -- do you want me?”

“More than anything, Avery.” His weight lifted until he supported his body on one arm and could look at me. Shadows darkened his gaze. I didn’t know if it was the light in the room or if it was his mood and I had somehow placed those shadows inside him.

“But what you said is right.” His hand stroked at and in my pussy, making sure I stayed lubricated and stretched. “Taking you, filling you...it makes it real. I thought I could get you someplace safe, give you half the money I took from the Gypsies and let you walk out of my life because you’ll be better off without me.”

I shook my head. Years of watching him from afar and I hadn’t known until that moment how badly I had always wanted to be a part of Callan’s life.

“You’re not dumping me somewhere,” I told him. My whole life, I wasn’t sure I had ever had someone who loved me. Maybe my mother in small increments of time, rare seconds stolen between shots of booze and cigarettes.

Not that Callan loved me, but he seemed to care for me, had risked his life staying in Thunder Valley to get me out. And concern over my well-being was definitely more than I had ever had from one person. It was too rare a thing for someone like me to just let it go, to hop off his bike in some town, accept a pat on the ass and walk into a train station with half a brick of hundreds.

“You’re not,” I repeated when he continued to penetrate me with just his fingers.

“This is something that can only be taken once,” he whispered against my throat.

“I’m pretty sure you already took it.” A harsh laugh erupted from me. He’d been four fingers inside me, all the way up to where his palm started. And it wasn’t like there was some mythical shield in place. Eighth grade biology had set us all straight on that fact.

“I pleasured you with my hands and mouth, baby.” He paused to suck just below my ear before biting at the lobe. “It’s different with my cock.”

I chewed at my bottom lip to keep from arguing. Callan was too big and strong for me to roll him onto his back and impale my cunt on his erection, riding him until he changed his mind and joined his efforts with mine.

“I’m going in bare.” He slid down until he could tongue one nipple. “And even if I wasn’t, there is always the risk you could wind up with a baby.”

I released the lungful of hot air I’d been holding in to keep from climaxing as he continued to tease my pussy. “You’re wrong.”

Not about the risk of a baby, just about everything else -- even if my brain was too clouded with need to know what those other things were. I just knew he was wrong, that he had to be in me and soon.

“Avery, it’s the first time you’re willing to risk changing your life forever.”

That was too much! I slapped the only part of him I could get a bead on -- his cheek. Red flushed to the surface of his skin, its outline shaped like my center three fingers. His teeth took firmer hold of my nipple in warning.

“My life changed forever yesterday, Callan Tilley.” I pushed at his head, ignoring the warning of his teeth against my flesh. He either needed to fuck me or get the fuck off of me. “Even if you do discard me someplace along the road, you’re always going to be a part of my future, baby or not.”

He disengaged from my breast, his body surfing up mine until we were face to face. He didn’t look mad, just dead serious.

“I’m trying not to be selfish, Avery.” The words were a growl, the kind of growl a dog makes just before it bites.

A rush of adrenaline shot through me. I blinked, not caring that the tears sliding down my cheeks made me look weak. My lips and tongue worked at something I couldn’t say.

He kissed me soft on the mouth. “I want to be in you.”

Another kiss, a little harder than the first.

“I wanted to take you to my senior prom, was going to ask you even though you were a grade younger and I’d never said a single word to you, but...”

I nodded. His life had been thrown in turmoil his senior year. His dad had been arrested and convicted during the school year. That was just the beginning of the end for the Tilleys in Thunder Valley.

In mute apology, I ran my fingers softly against the fading red on his cheek. I trailed them over his chin until I reached the tattoo on his neck. A winged skull covered his Adam’s apple. Lincoln and his dead brother, Boone, had a similar tattoo. They had gotten it after their father was sent away.

Instead of a tuxedo for prom, he had received this mark of loss, this twisted sign that freedom came only in death.

“Baby...” He shifted and I felt the head of his erection pushing at my gate. “I wanted to throw you on my bike the first time I saw you working at Freya’s.”

He started to push in, my body yielding with mutual need.

“Take you home and whip your daddy’s ass for letting you work at a bar full of bikers and drug dealers.”

I blinked, more tears wetting my face and obscuring my vision. I rubbed at my eyes. I wanted to watch his face, didn’t want to miss seeing the emotion I could hear in his voice. Straining my head up, I kissed him as I pressed my thighs against the solid muscles of his ass. My arms tangled around his shoulders.

“We’re here now,” I whispered, desperate for the fat crown to slip all the way inside me. I was exposed, opened as wide as I could go but he had to be the one to sink into me, to surrender.

His lips skimmed across my cheek to find my mouth. “I won’t fuck you, Avery.”

It took me a second to realize what he was saying. He hadn’t retreated, I could still feel just the tip of the broad head wedging me open. But he wanted me to know exactly what this was between us -- or what he thought it was.

“Not fucking,” I agreed and squeezed his shoulders. “I don’t want you to fuck me, either. But I do want you in me, Callan. I want to be filled by--”

He pushed in and I thought my chest would explode. I gave a soft cry, not of pain although it hurt a little to have him stretching me so suddenly. The cry was an acknowledgement of the word I couldn’t say and that he didn’t want to hear just yet.

Callan mashed his lips against mine, robbing me of any chance of speech. His hips began to move, the head of his cock dragging heavily through me. I gasped for air, greedy for a lungful but accepting the small sip of oxygen he allowed me before the kiss continued, his tongue sweeping through my mouth with the same hard, questing nature of his cock. The bed started to creak as Callan’s pace increased. I could feel my climax building as my muscles knotted around the shaft and fat head.

“Yes...” My nails scratched lines down his back and my vision began to collapse, a grey circle crowding its edges. “Yes, Callan...”

“No,” he teased, slowing down. Remaining inside me, he raised his torso, pushed his legs under mine and settled onto his heels. His hands wrapped around my thighs to hold me open as he stared down at where his cock disappeared into my pussy.

“You’re going to have a hard time riding tomorrow, baby girl.” He chewed at his bottom lip as he slowly fucked back and forth inside me. The big head bullied my flesh as it dipped, retreated then slammed back in to batter the opening of my cervix. Slow again, his hips rolling to move a gentler circle inside me.

He hit a spot, the swollen tip almost backed entirely out of me, and I cried out.

“There?” He rasped.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t open my eyes to look at him in approval, could only grit my teeth and nod like a fiend.

A small roll, a little dip. I sucked air in, refusing to release a single molecule of it until I climaxed. I would need it to scream his name.

His hand left my leg to tease at my clit. He teased me inside and out, the pleasure almost enough to turn my flesh inside out. My nails clawed at the bedspread. Another breath in. I could feel my face purpling.

His fingers moved a little faster, up and down my clit while the head of his cock battered a small circle just inside me, keeping the mouth of my cunt stretched as wide as it would go. I jerked, inhaled my last breath and cried out.

“Callan!”

He rammed into me at my scream, his arms coming under me to lift me up and impale me on his long, thick cock. He bit at my throat and the top of my shoulder as my body whipped along his shaft. I was coming, the contractions running through me making him feel even bigger as my cunt narrowed rhythmically.

Callan panted, his fingertips pressing hard against my spine. I couldn’t tell if I was even breathing. Surely I had to be. The mindless moans coming from me needed oxygen to take shape, needed my throat to squeeze them into sounds. But the only squeezing I was aware of, the only pulse of life I felt, was between my legs, my pussy contorting around Callan, milking him for that first jet of his release while my orgasm continued to roll through me.

He seized and I felt it -- just his cock moving as he held his breath. A violent jerk tugged at my pussy. Another one and then I resumed my bouncing to wring another thick string of cum from him. My hands wrapped around the side of his head and squeezed as I reached the very top of my climax and plummeted, my mind shattering when I hit the bottom.

“Baby?”

I opened my eyes to find a soft smile playing along Callan’s mouth. I smiled back, the endorphins in my body making my face feel drugged and floppy. He rolled his lips, massaging my back for a few seconds before he said anything more.

“You’re never getting rid of me after this.”

Callan

The red display on the alarm clock read a few minutes past two when I smelled the intruder. He just might have been the quietest son of a bitch I’ll ever encounter, but his stink gave him away before he could place the gun to my head and pull the trigger.

I grabbed the hand holding the gun and shouted a warning to Avery.

“Get down!”

The return silence lasted long enough for me to fear that I had slept through his hurting her, but then I heard Avery’s small cry of surprise and felt the mattress move as she slid onto the floor. My free hand found the collar of my attacker and I rolled onto my side after she had cleared the bed.

Despite the leverage he had standing over me, the man was too scrawny to resist. Now I had him on his back and the leverage was all mine. Holding him down, I squeezed at his wrist and prayed he didn’t release a round into the wall. At the moment, I didn’t care who was on the other side, I just didn’t want a gunshot drawing the police to our room.

“Let go or I’ll break your fucking wrist,” I hissed.

The bedside lamp came on. Part of me realized Avery must have hit the wall switch, but I kept my concentration on the man beneath me. He hadn’t released the gun, so I squeezed harder, pouring every ounce of strength my arm possessed into my grip.

A sick, wet snap rewarded my efforts and the gun fell onto the pillow. He started to scream from the broken wrist. I covered his mouth with one hand and reached for the gun with the other. My heart hammered inside my chest. I tried to calm it, but the pounding wouldn’t slow down.

I looked at the man’s face but didn’t recognize him. This fucker had been ready to kill us and he wasn’t even a Gypsy!

I swallowed a ball of oxygen, felt it travel in a clump down my throat and waited for it to feed my brain. When it did, I looked around the room in the feeble light cast by the cheap lamp. Avery stood at the edge of the bed, her eyes wide, the pupils almost nonexistent from fear. I glanced over my shoulder at the door.

“Lock the door, baby.”

Terrified or not, she didn’t hesitate. Fear wasn’t going to freeze my girl. Under pressure, her brain worked better than mine because she thought to check the other side of the door. Outside, a key hung from the lock. She removed it, locked the door and hurried back to the bed, her hand in a tight fist around the key.

The man still screamed behind my palm, my hand only lightly muffling the sound. “Get me a pillow,” I barked.

Again, she didn’t hesitate. She whipped a pillow from the other bed and placed it over his face. I slid my hand away and she pushed down, keeping him quiet while I shifted position. When I was sitting on his chest, I took control of the pillow.

Instinct brought my gun hand up, the barrel of the cheap, compact 380 denting the fabric and stuffing beneath it.

Avery lightly touched my shoulder. “You can’t kill him. The clerk knows our faces.”

I nodded angrily at the key she held in her hand. “You mean the clerk who sold us out?”