Chapter 5 #2
He feasts on me, moving from one breast to the other, his beard abrasive against my soft skin, his hands kneading my flesh.
I am drowning in sensation, in the smell of him, the heat of the fire, the sheer overpowering force of his desire.
"Shane, please," I beg, my hips bucking instinctively against the floor. "Please."
He pulls back, his mouth wet and swollen. "Please what, baby? You want me to stop?"
"No," I pant. "Don't you dare stop."
A dark smirk twists his lips. "Good girl."
He stands up, towering over me again. He unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking like a death knell for my innocence.
He shoves his jeans and boxers down, freeing a massive, terrifyingly thick cock that snaps upward against his flat stomach.
It’s a brutal length of engorged muscle, veins pulsing like snakes around the heavy shaft.
I stare, my mouth dry, at the sheer scale of him—his heavy balls hanging low, his pussy-stretching girth promising to ruin me.
"Too big?" he asks, his voice tight.
"I don't know," I whisper honestly. "Maybe."
"I'll make you fit," he vows. "I'll stretch you until you take every inch of me."
He drops to his knees between my legs again.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and rips.
The fabric tears with a sharp sound. He doesn't bother sliding them off; he just destroys them, tossing the ruined scrap of lace toward the fire to show me that nothing is staying between his cock and my pussy.
"Open for me," he commands.
I spread my legs wider, exposing myself to him, to the firelight. I feel raw, open, completely claimed. Shane doesn't touch me yet. He just looks. He leans down, scenting my pussy as his nose brushes my curls. "You smell like you're ready," he grunts. "I bet you taste even better."
He grabs my thighs, forcing me wide, and buries his face in me.
I shove my knuckles into my mouth to stifle the scream that tears from my throat, the sound swallowed by the low hum of the white noise machine I’d tucked into Maddie’s room earlier.
His tongue is broad and rough as he licks me.
He finds my clit instantly, lapping at it while he shoves two fingers inside me.
I’m so tight I can barely take him, but I’m dripping wet enough that his fingers slide in with a heavy, wet squelch.
He pumps his fingers, stretching me out and getting me ready while his tongue works a hard rhythm on my clit.
"So tight," he mumbles against my soaked pussy. "Christ, Bianca. You’re perfect."
I am thrashing now, my heels digging into the rug, my hands gripping his shoulders. The tension is winding tighter and tighter, a coil in my belly ready to snap. "Shane, I'm close, I'm—"
He doesn't stop. He sucks harder, his fingers curling inside me, hitting a spot that makes my vision blur. I shatter. The orgasm rips through me, intense and blinding. I cry out his name, my body convulsing, clamping down on his fingers. He drinks every drop of my release, growling in approval.
He pulls back, his face glistening, his eyes black holes of need.
He positions that massive head at my soaking entrance, the blunt tip twitching against my clit.
"Look at me," he snarls, his voice a jagged edge that cuts through the haze of my lust. "You're mine now, Bianca. No going back. You take this cock, you take the patch, and you accept that you’re my fucking property until the day I'm buried in the dirt."
"I know," I whimper, my legs trembling as I spread myself wider, offering him everything. "Fucking claim me, Shane. Impale me."
He doesn't just lunge; he rams. His full, terrifying girth slams into me, stretching my pussy beyond its absolute limit in a single, violent stroke.
I feel my skin go taut, my internal walls groaning under the invasion as his thick cock conquers every inch of my depth.
I let out a wrecked, high-pitched gasp, my body locking up around the massive intrusion of him.
"Yield for me, baby," he grunts, his voice a rough vibration against my lips. He leans down, devouring my mouth in a hard, possessive kiss while his hips maintain the agonizing, delicious pressure. "Breathe through it. Open up and take every goddamn inch of my seed-filled length."
I stare into his eyes, seeing the fire of a predator who has finally cornered his prey.
I force myself to relax, to melt around him.
He pushes past the final resistance, bottoming out until his heavy balls are crushed against my soaking pussy.
We both roar—a sound of primal, shared hunger.
He is so fucking big he fills me to the point of a beautiful, localized pain, stretching me so wide I know I’ll never be the same.
"Fuck," he hisses, his nostrils flaring as he scents the heavy, pungent musk of our joined bodies. "You were made to be stretched by my cock. You were built to be filled by me."
He begins to move. Gentleness is a dead concept. He withdraws until only the head remains, teasing my entrance, before he slams back in—a powerful, bone-shattering thrust that knocks the breath from my lungs.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sound of his skin slapping against mine echoes off the timber walls, a wet, rhythmic thud.
The friction is maddening, a delicious burn that makes my head swim.
His hands grip my hips with bruising force, his calloused fingers digging into my flesh as he begins to pound into me like he’s trying to drive himself into my very marrow.
He sets a brutal pace, driving into me with a primal rhythm that strips away everything but the sensation of him. "Mine," he grunts with each thrust. "My girl. My property."
"Yes," I sob, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Yes, Shane."
Seeing him above me, this scarred, dangerous beast of a man losing control because of me, is the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever experienced.
He reaches down between our bodies, his thumb finding my clit again, grinding against it as he thrusts.
It is too much. The second wave of pleasure builds instantly.
"Come for me again," he demands, his voice a broken growl. "Let me feel you clamp down on me."
"Shane, I can't—I—"
"You can." He drives harder, hitting that sweet spot deep inside with unerring precision. I fall apart. I scream, my inner muscles spasming around his cock, milking him.
That breaks him. Shane roars, a primal, animalistic sound, as he loses his fucking mind inside me.
He rams his cock home with three violent, bone-shattering thrusts, burying himself so deep I feel his balls slapping against my soaking pussy.
He goes rigid, his muscles locking as he hits his limit, and then I feel it—the thick, burning jets of his seed flooding my pussy, coating my walls in his hot, heavy cum.
He holds the connection for a long time, shuddering, his face buried in the crook of my neck.
Slowly, the world comes back into focus.
The fire is dying down to embers. I am lying on the living room rug, naked, pinned beneath the Sergeant at Arms of the Broken Halos MC.
Shane collapses onto his elbows, taking his weight off me but not withdrawing.
He kisses my temple. The aggression drains out of him, replaced by a fierce, heavy protectiveness.
"You okay?" he asks quietly, brushing a damp strand of hair off my forehead.
"I think you broke me," I manage, my voice raspy.
He chuckles, a dark, low sound of satisfaction. "I'll put you back together, Bee. But I'm never letting you go."
He pauses, his head tilting toward the stairs, his ears tuned to the silence of the house for his daughter. "Maddie is safe and sound, and you're staying right here under my weight."
He pulls out slowly, and I whimper at the emptiness. He grabs the throw blanket from the sofa and drapes it over us. He rolls to his side, pulling me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me like iron bands.
"You're not leaving," he states. A fact, not a question.
"I have a job to do," I say, tracing the scar on his chest.
"Job's changed," he mutters, his hand stroking down my spine, possessing. "You watch Maddie. I watch you. And nobody touches what's mine. Not the Costas, not the townies, nobody."
I stiffen slightly at the mention of the Costas. Shane feels my reaction. He squeezes me tighter, his chin resting on top of my head. "Don't worry about them. I meant what I said. You belong to the club now, Bianca. You belong to me. And the Devil himself couldn't drag you out of my grip."
I close my eyes, listening to the steady thump of his heart. For the first time in my life, I don't feel lost. I feel found.
"Okay," I whisper into the darkness. "Okay."
Shane kisses the top of my head, his grip unyielding. The real storm is right here, and I am right in the center of it.