Chapter 29
Sarge
Does it hurt?
I’ve been thinking about this moment, feeling both excited and apprehensive for when the time comes.
Showing Hannah where I live. I don’t do things halfway.
I claimed her, which means she has a right to see every corner of my life.
She gets all of me, not just the pretty parts I’ve scrubbed clean for her.
I guide her to the small, almost hidden door behind the bar counter. We step through. Hand in hand, I lead her down the vast hallway and stop in front of one door. Mine.
I’ve lived here since just before high school graduation.
Turned eighteen, couldn’t wait to get out.
My parents did their best, loved my brother and me, but it was time for something different.
The club has been my family ever since. I’ve only let one other person into this sacred space, and I’ve since both changed the layout of the room and the mattress.
In my belief, someone who comes into your life just to upend it—to bring the kind of rot my ex did—needs to be scrubbed out of the whole area.
I did my best to clear her negative Hamingja from the room, but I couldn’t ‘cleanse’ the bed with any real confidence. So it’s gone. I wanted a completely fresh, protected start going forward. While my beliefs may be outdated to most, they keep me grounded.
I open the door, guiding Hannah inside.
“Is this... your room? You live here?” She asks, doing a one-eighty as she takes in the sizeable space.
It’s nothing to scoff at. It easily holds my King bed, dresser, nightstand, and lounge chair, with room to spare.
It has a private bath and two broad windows that look out into the desert.
Large windows normally put me on edge, but these are Level 8 glass-clad polycarbonate.
Military grade. They’d stop a high-powered rifle. The walls have been reinforced as well.
“I do,” I reply, hauling her into my arms.
Fighting the urge to throw her on the bed, I force myself to talk instead. “I’ve been here since the end of my senior year. Didn’t start in this room, though. This one is for the head of the club.”
There’s pride when I say the title. It took time and respect to earn this spot.
“There are other rooms down the hall. Bigger, sure, but no private bath. If you ever decide to stay here, you get this one. Complete privacy.” I give a low, rough laugh.
“That’s more for my brothers’ safety than yours, Butterfly.
One of them catches you strutting back from the shower, wearing nothing but water drops and a flimsy towel on your skin?
I’ll drop the mother fucker where he stands. ”
Those big green eyes go wide, deer-in-headlights style. My words are heavy, yeah. Good. She needs to feel the weight of what it means to be mine.
“I think I should go find Ellie,” she breathes out.
“I think you should lie back on my bed and let me eat what I actually want for breakfast.”
“But—”
I shut her up with my mouth on hers. Gizmo will guard Ellie with his life; I know that. Right now, I need inside my woman before I fucking explode.
I scoop her up, her legs locking around my waist as I carry her to my large bed pushed against the far wall.
I drop her down, but don’t break the kiss.
Her fingers dig into my hair, thighs clamped secure around me.
She knows one word from those plump lips, and I’d stop.
Her body’s screaming, “Don’t you dare,” so I don’t.
I slide my hand under her shirt, finding a hard, dainty nipple, and pinch.
Her hips jerk against my cock. I do it again, harder, while I nibble at her ear.
Knowing exactly what she craves. I watch every move, hear every whimper, every groan.
I aim to please, and her cries of pleasure speak louder than words ever could.
I shove her shirt and bra up, mouth closing over the same nipple, sucking hard. She arches, fighting to stay quiet.
“Let them hear you, baby. I want every man in this club to know who you belong to.”
My good hand pops the button on her jeans. I work them down while my teeth and tongue torment her other breast. She takes over, wiggling the denim off her hips and kicking it to the floor.
I take her in and holy fuck she’s perfect. Still can’t believe this woman climbed on my bike and let me claim her. Don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I’ll kill to keep her right here.
I nip her nipple before kissing and biting a path down her stomach, settling between her thighs. She opens for me instantly, spreading her bent knees on the bed as wide as they’ll go. I sink my teeth into the soft flesh inside her thigh, sucking hard enough to bruise—my brand, my mark.
Mine.
Glancing up, I find her jaw slack, mouth open. Her eyes bore into mine, pupils blown with raw lust.
I hold that stare as I lower my face to her heat. She whimpers, ready for me to devour her.
I drag my tongue slowly from her dripping entrance all the way to her clit, then clamp down hard. Sucking her swollen bud into my mouth, she cries out loud, her hips rocking against my face. My hands grip hard on her hips, holding her steady as I feast like a man starved.
Her fingers part my hair as she holds on for dear life. Her breaths come quick and shallow. “Sarge... Oh my God... I... I’m...” she pants. “I’m going to cum.”
When I hear those words leave her lips, I stop.
At first, she looks hazy, confused. But the look quickly turns to anger. She thinks I’m not giving her what she needs.
She’s wrong. I just want her to cum on my cock.
“Butterfly, I know what we talked about. And I respect you, what you want and why.” I kiss the beautiful curve of her hip bone. “But if I use a condom, can I please bury myself inside you? Will you let me feel you squeezing around my cock when I make you cum?”
I’m not above begging, and I just might.
“Yes, fuck Sarge. Yes, get the fucking thing on and get inside of me.” She says panting, and I can see the want in her eyes.
Who am I to keep my woman waiting? I open my nightstand and pray silently to the Gods that these rubbers aren’t expired. Can’t say we didn’t try, though, right?
I slip it on my aching cock and climb onto the bed. “Lay on your side, baby.”
A look passes over her face, but she obeys. I spoon her from behind, line myself up, and slowly enter her. I reach my good hand up and under her raised thigh and find her clit.
Swirling in slow, lazy circles with my fingers, I can feel how soaked my girl is for me. I push my length into her until I’m fully seated. Pumping in and out of her, I feel like I’m already going to explode.
Her pussy grips me like it was forged for my cock alone. I can only hope that I make her feel half as undone as she’s making me. If I die right now, let this be the last thing I ever do.
I bring my scarred hand around, hesitant for a second, then pinch her nipple between my fingers. I lift my head just enough to be sure I’ve got the right spot. Satisfied, I press my mouth to her ear.
“Cum for me, Butterfly.”
She gasps, voice breaking. “Sarge, fuck, it feels so good. God, I’m so full, please... don’t stop.”
She presses her ass into me, giving me better access to her entrance. “Fuck, baby, look at you miking my cock with your needy pussy like a good girl.”
I pound into her at a slow, torturous speed. Both trying not to cum this early and making sure I’m hitting all the right spots for my woman.
“Would you like that, baby? Feeling me unload inside you?”
Unable to find the words, she simply nods her head in response.
I clamp down on her nipple while thrusting relentlessly into her and swirling gentle circles with my fingers on her sensitive clit.
The mix of sensations becomes enough for her to find her release. Her body goes tense, a silent scream on her wide-open mouth. Then the tremors hit, her pussy constricting, milking me with every pulse while she cries out.
“Ah... Fuck... Sarge!”
That’s it, I’m gone. No chance I can hold back another second.
I bite down on her neck as I come apart, vision whiting out, air ripped from my lungs.
When my eyes open again, I blink a few times to see clearly. Holy shit. I feel like I just died and came back to life inside my woman.
We lay there, both panting.
She pushes her ass back into me, closing the distance between us. I slide my hand from between her thighs and wrap both arms around her, pulling her in tight. My face finds the curve of her neck, breathing her in, that sweet, clean scent that quiets the storm that normally swirls in my mind.
We bask in our post-orgasm bliss for a few minutes. I absently kiss her neck, lost in the smoothness of her body and the flush of her skin.
“Hey, look. No tears,” she lets out quietly with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, Butterfly, I’ll just have to try harder next time.”
“What? No, it’s embarrassing to cry.”
“No, baby, it just means you felt good. Very good. And that you felt good enough to let go and enjoy it.”
“Wait... how do you? Where did you hear that?”
“You think my woman cums on my dick and then cries about it, I’m not going to look that shit up?” I tug at her waist, asking her to face me. “I want to bring you nothing but pleasure, and I wanted to make sure I hadn’t done anything wrong.”
“I told you already that you didn’t.”
“I know you did, but it can’t hurt to look it up, learn more.”
She looks away for a second. “I can’t believe you actually looked it up. I’m embarrassed... and flattered.”
“Hey, I wanted to learn what to do to help. Said the best thing is to hold you, remind you you’re safe, let the wave pass, let you feel it.”
“Thank you. That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me without me begging them to.”
“You deserve that and a whole lot more, Butterfly. Makes zero sense to me why any fucker wouldn’t move mountains for you.” I notice the goosebumps on her arms and drag the blanket up over us.