Chapter Twenty-One #2
She shivers. Her pupils are blown, her breath uneven. “Nitro…” she whispers, dazed, needy, wrecked in the prettiest of ways.
I kiss her, slow enough to make her melt again, deep enough to taste the aftershocks still trembling through her. When I pull back, my voice is rough against her mouth. “Bring your knees up.”
She obeys instantly, her thighs lifting, opening for me without hesitation, not because she has to, but because she wants to. She wants me. She wants this.
“Good,” I murmur, sliding one hand under her knee and widening her just a little more. “Just like that.”
My other hand runs down the curve of her hip, gripping firmly, and she gasps, that sweet, involuntary sound that hits me right in the chest. “I love your body,” I growl, my thumb brushing the soft skin at the top of her thigh. “Every inch of you. Don’t ever hide from me.”
Her hips tilt up in answer, a silent plea, her breath catching when my cock presses low between her folds. I drag the head through her slick heat, slow and deliberate, letting her feel exactly what’s about to fill her.
Her fingers latch onto my shoulders. “Nitro… please…”
I tease her, roll through her folds again, circling her clit with the broad head of my cock, until she’s shaking.
“Tell me,” I say, voice deep, controlled, dominant. “Tell me you want all of me.”
Her nails bite into my skin, her body arching up into mine. “I want you,” she drawls, eyes locked on mine, raw and honest. “I want… all of you.”
“Good girl.” I press in slowly, watching every inch of her reaction. The stretch pulls a breathy moan from her throat, her lips parting, her eyes fluttering closed as her body gives way around me.
“Look at me,” I order.
Her eyes snap open, glassy and overwhelmed, meeting mine as I push deeper, inch by inch, until her mouth falls open on a trembling gasp.
“Fuck, Marley…” I grit out. “The way you take me…”
She grips my arms, her entire body arching into me, wrapping around me, claiming me even as I sink deeper.
Her curves cradle me perfectly, soft, warm, and addictive. I slide my hands beneath her thighs, lifting them higher so I can move even deeper, angling her hips just how I know she likes.
When I bottom out, fully inside her, we both freeze.
Her breath catches.
Mine stops entirely.
We stare at each other, chests pressed together, hearts pounding in the same frantic rhythm, and something… shifts.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
But absolute.
Her hands cup my jaw, trembling but sure, her thumbs brushing my cheek as if she’s memorizing me. “God, you feel so good.”
I lean down, kissing her, hungry and desperate, then I move, slow at first, letting her feel every inch of the slide, every pulse of my body against hers.
Her thighs lock around my waist, pulling me deeper, her body clinging to mine as though she can’t get close enough. “More,” she whispers, breathless and desperate. “I need more.”
A growl tears out of me, raw and guttural. I brace one hand on the headboard, the other gripping her hip tight enough she gasps, and I drive into her again, deeper, harder, not rough, not punishing, but claiming.
Every thrust pulls a different sound from her throat. A gasp. A whimper. A moan that goes straight to my spine and sits there burning.
Her nails rake down my back, sharp and frantic, and the sting explodes across my skin. I feel it all the way to the base of my spine.
She lifts her hips, searching, and I adjust instinctively, angling her the way I’ve learned she loves, and when I hit it, when I slide into that exact spot inside her, her entire body jolts like she’s been struck by lightning.
I growl against her throat, my voice dark, low, rough. “You like that?”
Her back arches, her breath breaks on a cry. “Yes… God, yes. Nitro, please…”
I drag my teeth over her collarbone, gentle but possessive, then slide my hand into her hair and tug her head back so I can watch her come apart under me. “Good girl. Take it.”
And she does.
All of it.
All of me.
She gives every piece of herself without flinching—her body, her trust, her heart, and the way she looks at me while she’s doing it destroys me. I’ve never been wanted like this. Not for my patch, not for the club, not for what I can do.
Just… me.
And fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt.
She clutches at me, her thighs trembling around my waist, her breath quickening. She is tightening around me, squeezing in these slow, rhythmic pulses that grab me from the inside, and my rhythm stutters.
She pulls me deeper with every clench, her body begging, pleading without words.
“Nitro…” she whispers, voice cracked wide open. “I love you.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My breath stops. My hips falter. Emotion roars through me so fast it’s disorienting.
“Fuck, Marley…” I choke out, leaning down to kiss her as if I’m drowning and she’s air. “I love you too. I fucking love you.”
Her body breaks under mine at the exact second the words leave my mouth.
And I feel every microsecond of it.
The way her walls tighten, flutter, then lock around me in this desperate, pulsing grip that drags a groan straight from the bottom of my lungs.
The way her thighs clamp around my hips, holding me there.
The way she cries my name into my mouth like a plea and a prayer tangled together.
Her orgasm crashes through her in waves, each one stronger than the last, her entire body trembling, shaking, arching.
A low heat gathers at the base of my spine, building fast, unstoppable, every thrust sending it higher, tighter, hotter. My breath goes ragged. My muscles lock. My vision blurs around the edges.
“Marley… Jesus…” I groan, my voice breaking apart.
She pulls me down by the back of my neck, holding me to her chest, her fingers buried in my hair as if she can pull the climax out of me.
I thrust once.
Twice.
And then I’m gone.
My orgasm slams into me hard. My body bows into hers, trembling uncontrollably as I explode deep inside her, each pulse dragging a guttural sound out of me.
I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in, holding her as though she’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth while everything inside me breaks open.
She clings back just as fiercely, riding the last waves of her release, her body pulsing around mine in aftershocks that make my knees weak.
We fall apart together, slow, shaking, tangled, our breaths uneven, our hearts pounding the same frantic rhythm against each other.
When the tremors fade, I collapse gently over her, my forehead resting against hers, our noses brushing. Her chest rising against mine, her fingers slide shakily over my back, her breath warm against my mouth.
She curls into me, her hand settling over my heart, and fuck… I swear she can feel every beat I’ve been trying like hell to hide. I kiss her hair, long and slow, holding her steady, in the way that she’s the only solid thing in a world I keep setting on fire.
And maybe she is.
“Damon…” she whispers my name, soft, sleepy, trusting.
And that one word kills me.
Because she doesn’t know who she’s really in bed with.
Not the Vice President of Vegas Defiance.
Not Nitro.
Not the biker who’d bleed for her without thinking twice.
But the other name.
The one tied to money, power, headlines, and expectation.
The one that makes her job offer make a whole lot more sense.
Damon-fucking-Blackwell.
My chest tightens.
I can lie to enemies.
I can lie to the cops.
I can lie to the entire MC if I have to.
But lying to this woman?
To the woman who just said she loves me?
It feels as if I have swallowed broken glass.
Tomorrow is her birthday. Tomorrow she gets joy, drinks, dancing, stupid inside jokes with Sage, and me at her side like the man she thinks I am.
She deserves that.
So I’ll give her tomorrow.
And after that…
I will tell her everything.
Even if it blows this whole thing apart.
Because I’m in too deep to pretend this is temporary.
Because she said she loves me, and I love her too damn much to let this lie sit between us, going stagnant for long.
And because the truth is coming.
One way or another.
Whether I like it or not.