You’re not doing it right. #2
Her room is there. Mine is right next to it.
She doesn’t pause. Doesn’t second guess. She leads me straight into my room. The door shuts behind us.
And whatever this is?
It’s not stopping now.
I take her mouth this time, pulling her to me so hard a part of me feels like my lips might bruise. I push her against the closed door her leg wrapping around my waist. I can feel her heat through our clothes.
My lips trail down her neck as my hand slips into her pants, “fuck baby you’re soaked.” She moans in response. “You want me here?”
She nods.
“I need to hear it Raven, I want the words.” I pull back and look into the golden depths of her eyes.
Her forehead rests against mine. “I want you Joker, I think I have since that first night.”
The weak hold I’ve had on my self-control snaps. I lift her up carrying her over to my bed before tossing her down. “Never letting you go babe.”
She sits up pulling her shirt over her head, then unclasping her bra. I descend on her, my mouth taking her nipple slowly dragging my teeth over it. Raven arches into me, her hands finding my hair.
“Joker…” she moans her nails digging into the skin at the back of my neck.
I catch her jaw before she can look away again, my hand firm but careful as I force her eyes back to mine. “There’s something you should know,” I say, my voice rough enough to sound like gravel.
She’s breathing hard, lips swollen from my mouth, eyes dark and blown wide in a way that’s already fucking with my head more than it should. “What?”
My thumb drags slowly over her bottom lip, and I feel the little shiver that moves through her like I put it there on purpose.
Maybe I did. Maybe I’ve been doing that since the second she climbed into my truck.
I hold her gaze and give her the one thing I don’t hand to anybody. “My name’s Travis.”
She blinks at me, stunned enough that for half a second all that heat between us shifts into something sharper. Something quieter. Something that lands way deeper than sex ever should.
I don’t let her look away. “No one calls me that,” I tell her. “No one.”
And I mean it.
That name belongs to a version of me I buried a long fucking time ago. Before the club. Before the patch. Before I turned myself into somebody harder to break and a hell of a lot easier to fear.
Joker is what’s left. Joker is what the world gets.
But her?
Her I’m looking at like I’m handing over a loaded weapon and trusting she won’t point it back at my chest.
Her brow pinches just slightly, her breath still uneven. “Then why are you telling me?”
That question hits somewhere low and dangerous.
I tighten my hand just enough to make sure I still have all of her attention before I lean in close enough that my mouth nearly brushes hers when I answer. “Because if you’re gonna come apart for me,” I say, voice dropping even lower, “I wanna hear my real fucking name on your tongue.”
And the second the words leave my mouth, I know there’s no taking them back. Not that I’d fucking want to.
Her breathe catches as she nods.
My hands rest on the hem of her pants as she lifts up letting me drag them and her lace panties down her legs. I want to spend hours kissing every inch of her porcelain skin but right now I’m holding on by a thread and I need to have her.
I settle between her legs my eyes locking to her as I run my tongue across her pussy. She nearly shoots off the bed my forearm holding her steady. I nip at her clit and her entire body tenses.
“Oh my God…Travis!” She screams, her breaths coming fast and hard.
I stand placing my cut on the chair and quickly taking off the rest of my clothes, grabbing a condom and coming back to the angel in my bed.
“I’m going to spend time learning every part of this body angel, but tonight, I’m going to take you, claim you, make you mine.”
Her teeth drag across her bottom lip, “I want to be yours.”
That’s it. All I need.
Mine.
I slam into her, all the way, to the hilt. Her hands grip my biceps and I give her a minute to adjust to me.
I kneel, lifting her hips with me, adjusting the angle. My hand traces her tits, then ends it’s trail at her clit, circling, pressing. She arches the friction making me tense.
“Want you to feel me tomorrow babe, every time you move.”
Her sharp inhale and then small smile is all I need.
I start pumping into her, her screams sounding like explosions in this tiny room. Within a few minutes I’m at the edge, I’ve been so wound up wanting her I knew it would be no time at all.
“You feel so fucking good Angel, come with me.”
She starts to tense my name ripping from her mouth as I find my release collapsing next to her.
Later, when her breathing finally evens out and her body goes soft and heavy against mine, I lie there staring at the dark ceiling with one arm locked around her waist and the taste of my real name still burning in my mouth.
She came into this room as something I wasn’t supposed to touch.
She leaves it mine.
I don’t sleep.
I just lie there with her tucked against my chest, staring into the dark and realizing somewhere between her first kiss and the sound of my real name on her lips, I stopped being a man who could walk away from this.
Or her.
I should feel guilt.
Regret.
Some warning bell telling me I just crossed a line I can’t uncross.
Instead, all I feel is her breathing against my chest and one cold, undeniable truth settling in my bones.
I should’ve been more careful.
Because now she’s not getting rid of me.