Butcher's Honor (Iron & Blood MC #2)

Chapter 10 – Ruby

As soon as the front door closes behind Tommy and Rose, Joey's lips are on mine, hungry and insistent. His arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against his hard body, and a desperate whimper escapes my throat.

"Bedroom," he growls against my lips. It's not a question.

I nod breathlessly, letting him walk me backward down the hall. We bump against walls, knocking over a picture frame neither of us cares about. All that matters is getting closer, getting more.

When the backs of my legs hit the bed, Joey breaks the kiss just long enough to tug his t-shirt over his head. His chest is a tanned canvas of scars and hard muscle, and I can't resist running my hands over him, feeling the ridges and dips, mapping every mark.

His sharp inhale when my nails scrape over his abdomen sends a rush of power through me. I did that. I made this strong, lethal man react.

"Like that, did you?" I tease, repeating the motion.

Instead of answering, he shoves my robe off my shoulders, letting it pool at my feet. I'm left in just a shirt and cotton panties, garments that suddenly feel unbearably flimsy.

His eyes darken to onyx as they rake over me. "So fucking beautiful."

I start to protest the compliment, brush it off like I always do, but he cuts me off by dropping to his knees in front of me. His rough palms skim up my calves, my thighs, fingers toying with the elastic of my panties.

"Joey..." I can hear the plea in my voice.

"Let me worship you," he rasps, the words sending sparks of need straight between my legs. "Let me show you how goddamn perfect you are."

Without waiting for my response, he tugs my panties down. The cool air caresses my flushed skin and makes me acutely aware of how wet I am. I should feel shy, exposed like this, but the reverence in his gaze makes me bold.

One finger traces me from entrance to throbbing clit, and I cry out at the electric sensation. He groans, low and wanting.

"So wet for me."

Then his mouth is on me, licking and sucking with skilled fervor. My fingers are buried in his hair, holding him to me as I start to shake apart. He devours me like I'm the most decadent of feasts, savoring every taste and whimper with relish.

It's over almost embarrassingly fast—his talented tongue and fingers undo me completely. I shatter around him, vision blanking as stars burst behind my eyelids. Somewhere, I hear him murmuring encouragement, praise for how beautiful I look when I’m cumming.

When I return to myself, Joey is still between my legs, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs. I tug weakly at his hair.

"Please," I beg, though I'm not even sure what I'm asking for.

He surges up my body, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss that has me melting all over again. I can taste my own salty musk on his tongue, smell the heady scent of sex and man.

Somehow, we get the rest of our clothes off without separating. His cock, hot and heavy, presses against my hip. When he shifts against me, it leaves a trail of sticky precum that makes me writhe.

"Like that?" he teases, nipping at my earlobe even as he rocks into me again. "Tell me what you need, baby."

"You," I gasp out. "God, Joey, I need you inside me."

He rises above me, powerful and inked and mine. For a heartbeat, we just stare at each other, chests heaving. Then he reaches between us, guiding his thick cock to my entrance.

I keen softly at the stretch as he pushes in with one steady stroke. He freezes, jaw clenched, giving me time to adjust.

"Move," I demand, wrapping my legs around his hips. "Don't stop."

He doesn't.

He takes me hard and thorough, dragging soul-scorching pleasure from us both. I clutch at his sweat-sheened back and keen into the juncture of his shoulder like a woman unraveled. My nails leave stinging trails, marking him as he marks me from the inside.

When my second orgasm crests like a tidal wave, I nearly black out. Incoherent begging pours from my lips, though I can't say what I'm begging for.

More? Less? I'll surely die if this continues, die if it stops.

"We aren't done," he rasps in a tone that brooks no argument. "Get on all fours."

Still trembling from my last orgasm, I comply, turning over on shaky limbs. His rough palms smooth over my back and my hips, squeezing appreciatively. I feel exposed and vulnerable but utterly safe under his touch.

"Perfect," he growls, positioning himself behind me. "Fucking perfect."

When he enters me again, the angle is impossibly deeper. I cry out, dropping to my elbows as pleasure borders on sweet pain. His thick length fills me completely, stretching me in ways I've never experienced.

One hand grips my hip while the other slides up my spine to tangle in my hair. He pulls just enough to arch my back, and the change in angle has me going insane.

"That's it, baby," he groans, setting a ruthless pace. "Take all of me."

His grip tightens, sure to leave bruises I'll cherish tomorrow. The thought of being marked by him, of carrying physical reminders of this moment, makes me moan louder.

"Touch yourself," he commands, voice rough with need. "Want to feel you come around my cock."

My hand snakes between my legs, finding my swollen clit. The dual stimulation is almost too much, but his encouraging growls urge me on. Every touch builds the pressure coiling in my core, threatening to explode.

"Joey, I'm—I can't—"

"Let go, baby. I've got you."

The orgasm hits like lightning, white-hot and all-consuming. I scream his name as my body writhes, inner walls gripping him like a vice. Behind me, Joey's rhythm falters, his grip tightening almost painfully on my hips.

"Fuck, Ruby," he growls, thrusting deeper. "So perfect, so tight..."

He follows immediately, his own release hot and deep inside me as he collapses over my back. His weight should be crushing, but he feels like an anchor, keeping me grounded as aftershocks ripple through my body.

We stay connected, panting and trembling until our hearts slow. Finally, he pulls out gently and guides me to lay beside him. I curl into his chest, feeling utterly claimed and cherished.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on my spine as he presses soft kisses to my temple. In this moment, I feel completely, perfectly safe. The dangerous biker who terrifies others has shown me nothing but tenderness.

"You okay?" he murmurs against my hair.

I smile, pressing closer. "Never better."

His arms tighten around me. "Didn't hurt you?"

"No," I assure him, tracing one of his tattoos. "You were perfect. Everything was perfect."

He shifts to look at me, something vulnerable in his eyes.

"This isn't just sex for me, Ruby. You know that, right?"

"I know." I lean up to kiss him softly. "It's not just sex for me either."

His relief is palpable in the way his body relaxes. "Good. Because I plan on doing that again. Often."

I laugh, but it turns into a yawn. The emotional and physical intensity of the morning catches up with me all at once.

"Sleep," he says, pulling the covers over us. "We've got time."

As I drift off in his arms, I realize it's true. Whatever comes next, whatever dangers his world might bring, I know this is where I belong. Right here, in his arms, where even the most hardened of bikers can find peace.

And just before sleep claims me completely, I hear him whisper, "Mine."

"Yours," I mumble back, already half-dreaming.