Chapter 11 Lexi
My heart races as Reaper’s calloused hands roughly grip my hips, pulling me close and leaving no doubt about his desire. My breath catches in my throat. I can’t help but melt against him. I’ve been longing for his touch since the moment he rescued me. He’s an addiction that’s laid dormant for years, but now it’s back, and I can’t do anything to resist him.
He brings one hand up to my neck, wrapping his fingers firmly around my delicate skin. The pressure is just shy of painful. Shivers of excitement ricochet down my spine. My sex throbs with the need to be filled by him. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a man. I know I won’t be ready for his length or girth. He’s huge, and I’m not ready to take every inch of him.
“Do you trust me?” he growls, his voice a deep rumble that reverberates through the living room.
“Yes,” I manage to gasp, using up what little air I have left in my lungs.
His tongue glides down my neck, hot and wet, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Chills dance along my skin, and I moan in anticipation. He licks his way back up, stopping just millimeters from my ear.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” he says, his voice low and thick with lust.
“Me too,” I breathe, my voice a shaky whisper.
He still has one hand wrapped around my throat, but the other is fumbling with the button on my jeans. The second it pops free, he yanks the zipper down. Dragging the fabric down my legs, he helps me step out of them before tossing them onto the floor.
With one rough tug, he jerks my shirt over my head, sending the material flying across the room. My bra follows suit, leaving me naked and vulnerable. He turns me around and steps back to admire my body. His eyes travel over me, taking in every curve and swell. I’ve changed since the last time he saw me. Having a kid filled out my hips and left me with a rounder belly, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“You’re perfect,” he rasps, almost to himself.
He picks me up and seats me on the edge of the pool table. With one swift move, he unzips his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. My eyes widen at the evidence of his arousal. He’s even bigger than I remember. There’s no way he’s going to get that … that monstrous cock inside me.
“You sure you can handle this, baby?” he asks, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.
“Oh, I’m sure,” I retort, arching my back and running my fingers down my thighs.
I’ve done it before, so I’m sure I can do it again. As long as he takes his time, I’ll be fine. At least, that’s the lie I tell myself. He’s going to stretch me beyond my limits, but I don’t care. I need him desperately.
The old part of me that was utterly shameless takes over. I part my lower lips with my fingers to show him just how wet I am for him.
“Look at what you did to me,” I purr.
“Fuck,” he grunts.
Circling my clit with two fingers, I flash a smile, daring him to come closer. He grabs my wrists, pushing me back onto the felt and pinning my arms over my head. There’s nothing slow or gentle about the way he takes me.
Slamming into me, he buries himself to the hilt. I cry out in pleasure-pain, digging my nails into his straining ass. As he starts to move, my mouth drops open, and I arch to press my breasts against his chest. My hot, tight walls grip him like a vise. He fills me so completely that my mind goes blank. I turn into a savage animal, feral with lascivious need.
Wild abandon courses through my veins as Reaper’s thrusts become more frenzied. He pounds into me with primal force, driven by the need to claim me as his own. As my nails dig deeper into his skin, spurring him on, a growl escapes his lips.
“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans.
“You feel so good,” I whimper.
“Come on my cock, baby. I want to feel you coming.”
I moan and roll my head to one side. He takes advantage of my neck, which I unwittingly bared to him. Biting my throat, he pinches the skin together, probably leaving one hell of a welt, but I don’t care. This is how we are together, violent and ferocious in our need for each other. It’s always been this way, from the day we met until now. I don’t think it’ll ever change.
My body coils tighter around his thick, impossibly hard cock. Pleasure builds to a crescendo, and as much as I want to hold back and make this last, I can’t.
“That’s right, baby, come for me,” he snarls, his voice guttural.
“Oh, fuck,” I scream.
“Yeah, take it like a good girl.”
“Please! Oh, God!”
He reaches down to thumb my clit. The moment he makes contact, I fall apart. Waves of release rip through my body. I’m shrieking and writhing and slamming my head against the table. Completely out of control, I sob as he captures one nipple between his teeth. He bites down, making my pussy squeeze even harder.
“Reaper, oh my God!”
“That’s right, baby. I am your god, and I’m taking you to heaven or hell. You decide.”
I choose hell because that’s what I’m in. I’m powerless to stop the strongest orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. He’s made me come hard before, but nothing like this. He’s almost demonic with glee as he watches me climax over and over in an endless orgasm that pushes me close to the edge of sanity.
Guttural grunts jerk from my lips as he keeps pounding my pussy. A trail of drool slides down from the corner of my mouth. My eyes roll back, and all I see is darkness. It consumes me, carrying me to a place I’ve never been before.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” he moans.
Pulling me off the pool table, he holds my ass up with his huge hands. He fucks me standing up, lifting me before yanking me down on his cock. My breasts bounce as my hair flops against my back.
“Shit!”
He lays me back down, leaning over, bracing his hands on the edges of the pool table. Using that extra leverage, he thrust deeper before suddenly tensing.
“Lexi!” he screams as his climax crashes over him.
His body goes taut as he unleashes himself within me, branding me as his own. Hot spurts of his release fill me until there’s no room left, and his seed drips out of me.
Thank fucking God I’m on birth control.
Collapsing on top of me, spent, he holds me close. His heart pounds against mine as he struggles to catch his breath. I lie beneath him, panting, my body still trembling from the most exquisite orgasm of my life. Even battery-operated toys can’t make me come that hard.
Eventually, he slides out of me, leaving a sticky trail behind. He stands before me with a cocky grin on his face. “I take it you liked that.”
“Fuck you, Reaper.” I laugh while my body still hums with satisfaction. I lie there, drenched in sweat, my breath gradually slowing. Moving from this spot seems like an unnecessary chore; that is, until I hear the rumble of the bikes outside.
“Unless you want a bunch of prospects seeing your naked ass, we should go.” He scoops me into his arms and carries me down the hall to his bedroom.
As soon as he shuts the door, I hear voices drifting from the living room. If we’d waited another second, those guys would have had one hell of a show. I shudder at the thought. Some girls might like to put on a performance, but I’m not one of them.
Reaper gets me settled into bed beside him before pulling a heavy blanket over us. Despite how much heat we created, it’s still the middle of the night. Even during the summer, nights get cold in the mountains. I’m grateful for his warmth. Even though he’s barely civilized in some ways, he’s a complete gentleman in others. It’s a strange dichotomy, but that’s just the way he is.
As my thoughts begin to clear, regrets slip in. The reality of what just happened hits me like a sledgehammer. When I found out I was pregnant with Ace, I swore off sex with outlaw bikers. I’ve been able to keep that promise to myself for years—until now.
Reaper’s a dangerous man. Not just outside the bedroom, but in it too. When we were together before, he went too far one time, and I passed out from a lack of oxygen. He stopped and slapped me silly until I woke up, but it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. We get carried away when we fuck. It’s nobody’s fault, but we tend to take shit too far when we’re together. That’s just one more reason why sleeping with him again is stupid.
Yet, at the same time, I can’t deny the white hot pleasure coursing through my veins. I just broke every rule I made about bikers, and somehow, I survived, only to emerge even more alive than before. The last time I felt this awake and present was the day I gave birth to my son. I’ve been in a fog ever since, giving everything to him and taking nothing for myself. Ace will always be my number one priority, but don’t I deserve some pleasure too?
Reaper rolls away from me to lie on his side, giving me his back. The soft inhalation and exhalation of his breath doesn’t change, so I can tell he’s asleep. I lightly trace my fingers over the tattoo which covers most of his back. It’s a tombstone over a grave with the grim reaper’s scythe resting on top of it. A skeletal hand reaches out of the grave toward the sky. I’ve always wondered what it means, but he refuses to talk about it.
Although he’s undeniably sexy, I should know better than to ask too many questions. If my heart gets involved again, I’m doomed. I can’t afford to get attached to someone like him. I need to remember why I left in the first place. Part of me still wants to ask him about what happened that night, but I’ve got a bigger problem to deal with right now. Blackstone. If Reaper’s right, and I think he is, then Blackstone wants me dead. But … why?
I think back on every interaction I’ve had with Blackstone over the last few weeks. Nothing stands out. As far as I know, I didn’t do anything to make him angry enough to try to kill me. I never broke anything, never stole from him. That would have been stupid, given how many guards were around the ranch. It seemed like an excessive amount of security, but I guess he could have some deadly enemies. Blackstone is the governor of Montana, after all.
Another thing has been bothering me. When I was talking to Matrix and Reaper about Blackstone and Ace, they both looked like they’d seen a ghost. What’s their connection to Blackstone? Maybe he has it out for them because he doesn’t like motorcycle clubs. I can’t really blame him for that. They’re outlaws, and I vaguely remember that Blackstone ran ads on television about how he wanted to kick gangs out of the state. That could be the thread that ties them together.
Exhaustion creeps in. It’s been one hell of a day, and my eyelids refuse to stay open. They flutter closed, but my mind won’t stop working. I’m trying to understand things, but I don’t have enough information about either Blackstone or the club’s connection to him. Attempting to figure it out is fruitless.
Instead, I need to remind myself over and over that even though Reaper’s hot as sin, I have to keep my hands to myself. Tonight was a mistake; one I can’t make again. Hopefully, after I get some sleep, I’ll be able to think clearly.
But when morning comes, Reaper’s tattooed biceps and glistening abs are on full display, and all I can do is reach for him. So much for sticking to the rules.