His face was strained, his jaw clenched tight with the effort of holding onto his control.
“We’re kind of on a clock here, remember?” I said, gesturing with my eyes at our position against the wall of a very public corridor that anyone could walk down at any given moment.
He shook his head at me, but humor still shone in his eyes, as he said, “You know I don’t do quickies. You’ve really got me wrapped around your finger, haven’t you?”
“Don’t worry,” I said, meeting his thrusts that were growing wilder by the second. “It works both ways.”
With a growl, his mouth crashed down on mine again.
He swallowed my screams as pleasure gripped my body from his almost violent thrusts. He shifted his weight, releasing my wrists and wrapping his arms around me, holding me tight to protect me from some pretty severe bruising as he pummeled me against the wall with his cock.
The way we were fucking was so primal that my whole body was lit up. It was almost too much to handle. I was already right on the edge.
I felt him ease almost all the way out of me and shift his weight.
His eyes burned into mine. “Get ready,” he warned.
“What? Why?” I gasped, so overcome that I was barely able to draw in a full breath.
He smirked slyly. “You’ll see.”
He plunged back in deep, filling me to the hilt with his thick cock.
And I did see.
Holy crap!
He hit my G-Spot dead-on.
Over and over.
Ecstasy slammed into me. Finn clamped his hand over my mouth again just as I screamed out at the top of my lungs, unable to contain myself as my orgasm tore through me like an unstoppable violent tidal wave of pleasure. I heard Finn growl out his own pleasure as I clenched around him.
It took some time for us both to come down from it.
“Damn,” Finn said, as he gently pulled out.
A sudden realization slammed into me, one I should’ve thought about from the get-go. My gaze darted to his dick and relief flooded me. He was wearing a condom.
He fixed my top back into place, then did the same with my jeans, smiling down at me while he did and clearly reading my reaction well as he told me, “Me protecting you comes in many forms, Ashley.”
“I thought you’d… let go of your control. I thought you were right there with me in the moment, lost to it, lost to us.”
He stowed himself back inside his tactical pants as he opened his mouth to answer me.
But a loud, exaggerated throat clearing stilled us both.
A highly-sarcastic slow clap rang out next.
Finn stepped back and I turned to see Damien “Anarchy” Fowler grinning at us. “Damn, I wish I’d turned down here a few seconds earlier. Woulda caught a hell of a show, I’m sure, judging by the state of the both of you.”
I could feel my cheeks heating. Oh God. I hastily raked my fingers through my mussed-up hair and ran them over my clothes, trying to smooth them out.
Anarchy chuckled. “It’s gonna take more than that, princess.”
Finn wrapped his arm around me and tucked me against him, trying to shield me in that sweet, protective way of his. He eyeballed Anarchy. “You need something?”
Anarchy grinned and held up his hands. “Chill. I’m all for fucking about whenever the mood strikes. Danger’s pretty much a prerequisite for me actually.” He stepped up to Finn, just as bold and seemingly fearless as I remembered. I couldn’t tell whether Finn was surprised or amused, as Anarchy told him, “It isn’t about what I need. It’s about what you’re gonna need.”
Finn cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“I told Wrecker to wait on you for an hour or so, so don’t worry about Riverview. Get cleaned up and meet me in the courtyard in five minutes.”
With that, he smiled, then strode back down the corridor.
Well, that was cryptic.
21
~Wraith~
ANARCHY WHISTLED.
The kid couldn’t stop fawning over what he’d gone to great lengths to obtain for me.
My charcoal-gray Harley Davidson Softail Deluxe.
He ran his hand over the chrome. “Damn, it’s majorly tricked-out.” Awe sparked in his eyes as he asked, “You do the work yourself?”
I nodded.
“Guess it was always meant to be, huh?”
I folded my arms across my chest, regarding him shrewdly. “What’s that?”
“Becoming one of us.” He turned from the bike and walked up to me, smiling. “It’s in you, you know? That need for the ride, searching out a different kind of freedom you can’t get in the monotony of the mainstream world, the yearning to be a part of something bigger than yourself, experiencing that intense level of loyalty from a hardcore brotherhood. All that’s what being a member of a MC is all about.”
He was incredibly insightful, especially for one so young. Scott had briefed me on all the members and I knew Anarchy to be barely twenty-six years old. “Wise words.”
“For a kid, right?”
I shrugged.
“It’s all right. I get it a lot. Thing is, I’ve been on my own since I was fifteen. You grow up fast, living that kind of life.”
Yeah, Scott had mentioned that his parents had disowned him at a young age, unwilling to put up with the troublemaking, small-time criminal he’d become. But, just like with many of us, he’d merely needed a healthy outlet to nullify that self-destructive behavior. The club had been that for him. Scott and the club’s rules were the only sources of authority that he hadn’t felt the need to rebel against. A little responsibility had helped him as well. According to his profile and from the brief interaction I’d had one-on-one with him today, he was a real smart guy, very intuitive too. His role with the club was technically as an enforcer, but he delved into a lot of other areas too. Working at the garage, Wheel’s Up, was one of them. He helped the Road Captain out from time to time, had connections with parts suppliers. The kid dabbled in mechanical engineering and loved
