Chapter Fourteen
Remi
Once the bags are secured with Shooter, we get on the bike. The ride home is torture, but the good kind.
Shadow doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look at me, but I can feel everything in the way he handles the bike. The way his muscles flex under my hands as I cling to him. The way his thighs tighten as he leans into every turn. The way the growl of the engine matches the simmer under his skin.
I press my cheek against his back, pretending I don’t notice how hard his breathing is or how tense his grip is on the handlebars. But I feel it. Every second.
By the time we pull into the clubhouse, my nerves are shot. He cuts the engine, the sudden silence deafening, and I slide off the seat on shaky legs. He’s off the bike in a heartbeat, helmet tugged free, and grabbing the bags from Shooter. With the other hand, he catches my wrist.
No words. No warning. Just an undercurrent of need.
He drags me inside, slamming the door with his boot. The bags drop, forgotten, as my back collides with the wall. His arm braces beside my head, his chest pinning me in place, his other hand gripping my hip so tight, I gasp.
“You think you’re funny?” His voice is low, dangerous, vibrating through me. “Dragging it out. Making me sit there while you played your little games.”
My lips twitch, though my pulse is hammering. “Maybe.”
His eyes flash, dark and molten. “Darlin’, you just lit the match. Now, watch me burn.”
“Everything okay?” asks Lexi, pausing in the kitchen doorway with concern etched on her face.
I flash a grin as he drags me past, and she laughs, giving a knowing smile. “Oh, I see,” she murmurs before sipping her tea. “Now, you be careful up there,” she adds as we disappear up the stairs.
He doesn’t slow until we’re in the safety of his room, and the second he locks the door, he’s already kicking off his boots.
I laugh, my confidence boosted by his complete desperation for me. Me.
“Do you want me to strip or should I—”
“Stay right there,” he orders, hanging his kutte onto the back of the door before pulling his T-shirt over his head. It lands in a heap, forgotten, and I can’t help staring at the hard planes of his chest, the ink that spreads over his skin, every muscle taut with restraint.
I swallow, my bravado wobbling under the weight of his command. “And if I don’t?” I tease, my voice thinner than I want it to be.
His gaze snaps to mine. “Then I’ll tie you to the bed and you won’t see daylight ‘til I’m done.”
Heat pools low in my belly. My breath stutters, but I don’t look away. “Big words,” I manage, curling my fingers into the wall behind me to stop myself from fidgeting.
He prowls towards me, his belt buckle glinting under the dim light as he flicks it open. “Not words, darlin’. Promises.”
The air between us crackles. My grin falters, my confidence splintering under the sheer force of him, hungry, furious, desperate, and all of it aimed at me.
“Now,” he murmurs, looming over me, one hand braced on the wall by my head, the other dragging the coat from my shoulders in one rough motion. “Let’s see how patient you can be.”
My breath catches. Heat floods my skin as he peels the coat slowly from my skin, letting it pool at my feet. His gaze drags over me slowly, dark and hungry, and the smirk that tugs at his mouth makes my knees weak.
“You made me wait all day,” he says, voice low, deliberate.
“Sat there stuffing your face like you didn’t know I was ready to snap.
Were you even hungry?” I open my mouth to argue, to tell him I was only teasing, but the words dissolve when his fingers trail along the curve of my thigh, light, almost lazy.
A shiver shoots through me. “Well,” he continues, that dark grin widening, “now, it’s your turn.
You’re gonna learn what waiting feels like. ”
His touch skims higher, featherlight, but when I arch towards him, desperate for more, he pulls back with a shake of his head. “Not yet, darlin’.”
Frustration coils inside me, sharp and unbearable. “Logan,” I whisper, hating the needy tremor in my voice.
“Nuh-uh,” he cuts me off, his mouth brushing my ear. “You’ll get what you want when I’m good and ready, and not a second before.”
Every nerve in my body is a light, trapped between wanting to scream at him and melt into him all at once. He’s in control, completely, and the knowledge sends another rush of heat flooding through me.
His mouth ghosts over mine, close enough that I feel his breath but not his lips. The ache in my chest tightens, and when I lean up to close the distance, he shifts back, smirking.
“See?” he murmurs. “No patience.”
My nails bite into the wall behind me. “You’re torturing me.”
“Good,” he rasps, sliding a hand over my hip, caressing the hem of the short dress, his fingertips brushing so close to where I need him that my thighs clench. Then, he pulls them away again.
A strangled sound tears out of me. I hate how it makes him grin wider, how his eyes darken like he’s enjoying every second of my frustration.
He takes his time, teasing me with the lightest touches, his mouth skimming down my neck but never quite where I crave it, his hands mapping every inch of skin except the places that burn the most. Each near touch leaves me trembling harder, breaths breaking in uneven gasps.
By the third time he pulls away just as the pressure builds, my legs nearly give out. “Logan,” I plead, voice raw, “please.”
He stills, satisfaction blazing in his eyes as he tilts my chin up. “That’s better,” he says softly, though there’s nothing gentle in the way his thumb strokes my bottom lip. “You begging me? That’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.”
Humiliation and heat crash over me in equal measure, my pride warring with the desperate pulse of my body. “I’m sorry for before, but this isn’t a joke.”
He smirks, kicking my legs apart and pushing his hand into my knickers.
I gasp, gripping his wrist as his fingers gather the wetness already pooling there.
“Do I look like I’m laughing?” I shake my head, heavy gasps escaping as I stare into his dark eyes, silently pleading for him not to stop.
And just as the first shudder shakes through me, he removes his hand.
I groan, my head falling back in frustration. “Get on the bed, Remi,” he orders.
I move on shaky legs, almost collapsing onto the soft mattress.
I watch as he licks his fingers, tasting me.
Then he moves to the bedside drawer and takes out a pair of scissors.
I frown when he grips the hem and begins to run the scissors up the centre of the dress.
The sound of the material ripping is oddly satisfying as he shreds the rest with his hands.
“I can relax knowing no other man gets to see you in this,” he says with satisfaction.
“It was a perfectly nice dress,” I tell him, grinning with mischief.
“One burned into my memory forever,” he replies. “And that’s where it will stay.”
He hooks his fingers in my knickers and slowly drags them down my legs, and I wonder briefly if he’s regretting leaving the shopping bags downstairs instead of ordering me to dress in the red lace that started all this.
He drops to his knees, forcing my legs apart, and then his mouth is on me, greedy, hungry licks that make my whole-body jolt. A gasp tears from my throat, my fingers flying to his hair, clutching, holding him to me.
“Logan . . .” It comes out as a moan, broken and desperate. He growls in response, the vibration shooting straight through me as his tongue works slow, then faster, circling, dipping, teasing until my hips are lifting off the bed.
Heat coils low in my stomach, every nerve tight, screaming for release. I’m right there, so close it hurts, when suddenly he pulls back.
I choke on a cry, my head dropping back against the pillows. “No, please.”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes blazing as he looks up at me. “Begging again already?” he taunts, his tone amused.
I nod frantically, pride long gone. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
His smirk widens, wicked and merciless. “Not yet, darlin’. You’re gonna learn what it feels like to need me more than your next breath.”
Before I can answer, he pushes a single finger inside me, slow and deliberate, curling just enough to make my back arch. My fingers dig into the sheets, a strangled moan ripping free.
But just when the pressure builds, he stops again. His hand withdraws, leaving me clenching around nothing, desperate and raw.
“Logan,” I whimper, tears pricking my eyes from the sheer frustration.
He leans over me, his mouth brushing my ear. “You want it? Say it. Say exactly what you want.”
Heat floods my cheeks, humiliation twisting with hunger. “I want you,” I whisper.
“Not good enough,” he rasps, dragging his tongue down the column of my throat, teeth grazing my pulse. “You’ve got to earn it.”
His fingers slide over me again, stroking the slick proof of my need, and I buck into his hand, helpless. The ache in my core is unbearable, the edge so sharp, I could scream. And then he pulls away, leaving me gasping in disbelief.
I shake my head, tears slipping free now. “Please, I can’t . . .”
His gaze darkens, molten with hunger. “That’s three times I’ve let you fall apart in my hands, and three times I’ve stopped. You know what that means?”
I can barely think, let alone speak. “W-what?”
His lips hover over mine, cruel and tender all at once. “It means the next time, I’m not stopping. And when I finally let you come, darlin’, you’re gonna scream my name so loud, the whole damn club will hear it.”
His words rattle through me, leaving me trembling, desperate for him. Desperate for release. I can’t take another second of it.
“Please, Logan,” I whisper, my voice raw. “I need you. I need it. Please don’t stop this time.”
Something in his expression shifts, still dark, still hungry, but softer around the edges, as if my surrender finally cracks through his control. “Good girl,” he mutters, and before I can breathe, his mouth is back on me.
This time there’s no teasing, no mercy. His tongue works me with ruthless precision, fingers pressing deep inside as if he knows every secret place I need touched. The coil inside me snaps almost instantly, pleasure detonating so hard, I arch off the mattress and a scream rips from my throat.
“Logan!” His name bursts out of me, wild and uncontrollable, over and over as the shudders wrack through me.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let me come down easy. He pushes me higher and keeps me there until I’m shaking, clawing at the sheets, with my thighs trembling around his head. Only when I collapse, boneless and wrecked, does he finally pull back.
He wipes his mouth, breathing hard, his eyes molten as they drink me in. “Told you, darlin’,” he rasps, licking his lips like he’s still tasting me. “You’d scream my name so loud, the whole damn club would hear.”
I can’t even speak. Can’t do anything but stare at him through heavy-lidded eyes, knowing I’m ruined. I’m completely, utterly his.
Shadow
I watch with smug satisfaction at Remi sprawled across the bed, wrecked and beautiful, her cheeks flushed, the colour spilling all the way down her chest. She’s trembling, skin slick with sweat, every inch of her proof of how hard I pushed her.
My cock throbs painfully as I reach for the drawer, tearing a condom open with unsteady hands. I fist myself once, twice, groaning at the sheer intensity of the moment. Christ, I can’t remember the last time I was this hard for anyone.
Rolling the rubber down my length, I drag in a steadying breath, praying I don’t embarrass myself by finishing the second I sink into her.
Because right now, every ounce of me is strung tight between desperate restraint and the kind of hunger that could ruin us both.
I grip her hips, dragging her to the edge of the mattress, my cock straining against the condom as I line myself up. She stirs, her lashes fluttering, eyes hazy from everything I’ve already wrung out of her.
“Mine,” I snarl, and slam into her with one hard thrust.
She cries out, arching beneath me, her nails biting into my arms, but I don’t slow down. I can’t. I drive into her again and again, raw, merciless, every thrust a claim. Sweat runs down my spine, my chest heaving as I pin her body to the mattress, forcing her to take every inch of me.
Her cries echo through the room, tangled with my growls, and the sound only drives me harder. I brace my hands on either side of her head, caging her in, staring down into her flushed, wrecked face.
“Say it,” I grit out, my thrusts slamming deeper, sharper. “Say who you belong to.”
Her lips tremble, another moan spilling out, but it’s not enough. I grip her jaw, forcing her gaze to lock on mine, hips snapping relentlessly against hers. “Say it, Remi.”
Her breath shudders, her nails raking down my back as she finally chokes the word out. “You! Logan . . . I belong to you.”
A savage growl rips from my chest as I pound into her harder, faster, the bed creaking under the force of it. She clenches around me, pulling me under, and I lose myself completely, every thrust a brand, every groan a vow.
Her body tightens around me, pulsing, dragging me closer to the edge with every clench. She’s crying out my name, broken, desperate, and it’s all I ever wanted, even when I didn’t know it. To own her sounds, her body, her everything.
I slam into her harder, chasing that high, every thrust rougher, deeper, until I feel her fall apart beneath me. Her scream rips through the room, nails carving down my back as she shatters around my cock, clenching me so tight, it knocks the air from my lungs.
That’s it. That’s my undoing.
A roar tears out of me as I drive into her one last time, spilling into the condom with such force, I see stars. My whole body locks, trembling, sweat dripping onto her flushed skin. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our ragged breaths, the pounding of blood in my ears.
I collapse over her, bracing my forearm against the mattress so I don’t crush her completely. My face buries into her neck, breathing her in like I need her scent just to stay alive.
“Mine,” I growl again, softer this time, almost hoarse.
Her fingers tangle weakly in my hair, pulling me closer. “Yours,” she whispers, spent, her voice shaky but sure.
The last of the tension drains out of me, leaving nothing but the raw truth. I’ve never needed anyone like I need her. And no matter how much I try to fight it, she’s branded into me now.