Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
STORM
“Bit fucking brutal, wasn’t it?” I mutter, nodding towards the door.
He stands perfectly still, long enough that I begin to get concerned. I frown and wave a hand in front of his face. “Hello?” I call. “You having a stroke or something?”
Nothing.
I narrow my eyes. “Drix?” Without warning, he moves.
One second, I’m standing in front of him, the next, the floor disappears beneath my feet.
A startled squeal escapes me as he hooks his hands beneath my thighs and effortlessly lifts me into the air.
My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and I grab his broad shoulders to steady myself.
“What the…”” He doesn’t answer. He simply walks with purposeful claim, as though carrying me like this is the most natural thing in the world.
“Drix.” I laugh. “Why have you picked me up?”
“You were going to fight.”
I blink. “What?”
“Ginny.” His jaw ticks. “You were ready to throw hands.”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously.”
His brow arches.
“I wasn’t about to let her talk about me, or shit on our lifestyle.”
A slow grin spreads across his face. “I know.”
“And?”
“I liked it.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “You’re fucking impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
He reaches the breakfast bar and gently sits me on the cool countertop, instead of one of the stools. He doesn’t step away. Instead, he remains between my knees, his hands resting lightly against my bare thighs.
Not possessive. Not demanding. Just there. His blue eyes hold mine.
“Drix?” I whisper. His expression changes, the teasing disappears, and the humour fades. What’s left steals the air from my lungs.
“Kiss me,” he demands. He doesn’t move. Not an inch. His hands remain warm against my thighs, but it’s his eyes that hold me captive. Blue. Burning. Watching me with a hunger so carefully restrained it makes my pulse race.
“Drix...” I whisper his name again.
His jaw flexes. “Kiss me.” Not a demand. It’s a plea disguised as one. “I’m not asking twice.”
“There’s the biker I know,” I quip. I slide my hands higher into his hair, feeling the tension wound through every muscle beneath my fingertips.
He’s holding himself back. Again. Always.
The thought both melts me and infuriates me.
Slowly, deliberately, I lean in until my lips barely ghost over his.
He doesn’t chase. He waits, giving me every opportunity to change my mind.
Instead, I close the distance, pressing my lips to his.
This kiss is mine. It’s not stolen, not fuelled by homemade alcohol, and not born from anger or frustration.
A choice. My choice. His breath catches as my mouth lingers against his. Tentative and exploring.
I feel the exact moment his restraint begins to splinter. His fingers tighten against my thighs, and a barely audible groan rumbles deep in his chest. Still, he lets me lead.
A smile tugs at my lips against his mouth. “You really are going to make me do all the work?”
His forehead rests against mine. “You have no idea how close I am to losing every ounce of self-control.”
“Then stop fighting it.”
His eyes open. Raw. Unprotected. “If I stop...” he says quietly, “there’s no halfway with me.”
“I know.”
“I’m not the man who kisses you and walks away. I can’t do that anymore.”
“I know,” I repeat.
“I’m not the man who changes his mind tomorrow.”
“I know,” I sigh. A coy grin playing at my lips, I shift slightly grabbing the hem of the t-shirt and lift it over my head discarding it on the ground.
His gaze still searches mine, looking for even the smallest trace of uncertainty, but all he finds is me.
Finally. Then he breaks. Not with words, but with his eyes.
They travel over me slowly, deliberately, drinking me in as though he’s committing every inch of me to memory.
His gaze lingers at my hip, locking onto the small black heart tattoo with the letters BB inked inside.
His breathing catches as his thumb brushes over it with almost painful tenderness.
“When did you get this?” he asks, his voice so low it vibrates straight through me.
I glance down, smiling. “I figured if you were going to call me that, I may as well own it. I got it the week I turned eighteen. Had to go out of town so no one would tell my dad.”
His thumb traces the heart again. “I am the only one who calls you that.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement; a possessive one. “Only me.”
I meet his eyes. “Only you.”
His gaze snaps back to mine, and something dark and primal is igniting behind those blue eyes.
His hand glides slowly upward, dragging over the curve of my waist before skimming higher.
Feather-light. Agonisingly slow. His fingertips barely brush my skin, making me shudder harder than if he’d grabbed hold of me.
His hand reaches my jaw, his thumb stroking across my bottom lip.
“You sure?” he asks quietly.
I groan dramatically. “Jesus fucking Christ, Drix.” I gesture down my body. “I’m naked on your fucking breakfast bar like the main course at a Michelin-star restaurant.”
His lips twitch.
“I’m literally offering myself to you.” His smile widens.
“So, stop looking at me like I’m about to break.
” I cup his face. “I’m not broken.” I make sure to hold his gaze.
“I’ve got scars.” My voice softens. “I’ve got cracks.
” I brush my forehead against his. “But I’m still me.
” Silence. “I wanted you to help me find myself again.” A small smile touches my lips.
“You did.” I swallow. “So, stop treating me like I’m made of glass.
” His jaw tightens. “You either want me...” I whisper, “...or you don’t. ”
His eyes flash. “I’ve wanted you since I was old enough to know what wanting someone meant.
” The confession steals every ounce of air from my lungs.
“I’ve spent years pretending friendship was enough.
” His thumb strokes over my tattoo again.
“It never was.” Emotion crashes through me as he leans in until his lips barely brush mine.
“There is no going back after this.” His voice is rough.
“This isn’t just us ending years of pretending.
” His forehead rests against mine. “This is me finally calling you what you’ve always been.
” My pulse hammers. “My woman. My ol’ lady.
” The words hit me like a physical blow.
A slow smile spreads across my lips. “Then for fuck’s sake,” I whisper. “Claim me.”
The last word barely leaves my mouth before every ounce of restraint inside him shatters.
His mouth crashes onto mine—not gentle, not hesitant, not cautious—Just possessive, hungry, and certain.
He kisses me like a man who’s been starving for years and has finally been told he can feast. Like he’s terrified I’ll disappear if he lets me go.
Like he’s making damn sure I never doubt who I belong beside again.
A broken moan escapes me as I throw myself into the kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair.
His hands finally stop behaving. They move over me with a confidence they’ve earned after years of denying themselves, claiming every part of me.
“Drix...” I gasp against his mouth.
He growls softly. “Mine.” The single word sends a shiver racing through me. He says it again against my lips. “My BB,” he whispers between kisses along my neck. “My stubborn girl.”
I laugh breathlessly. “Took you long enough.”
He lifts his head, a grin flashing across his face. “You have no fucking idea.” He kisses me again, slower this time, deeper. Every touch feels like a promise. Every kiss feels like years of restraint dissolving.
When he finally tears himself away, his chest rises and falls heavily. His eyes are molten, locked entirely on me. I instinctively move towards him.
He lifts one finger. “No.” The command stops me instantly. “I want you right there.” His voice is rough with effort. “Just like that.” He looks at me like he’s trying to burn the image into his memory forever. “So fucking beautiful.” The raw sincerity behind his words makes my heart ache.
“I’ve imagined this...” he admits quietly. “So many fucking times.”
I grin. “I hope reality lives up to the fantasy.”
His smile is pure sin. “BB...” He shakes his head slowly. “It fucking surpassed it the second you told me to claim you.” He pauses. “You’ve always been mine in here.” He taps his own chest. “I was just waiting for you to choose me back.”
I smile through the emotion threatening to overwhelm me. “Deep down I always did.”
“I know.” He pauses. “But hearing you say it...” His hand settles over the little black heart tattoo.
“That’s something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my fucking life.
” He removes his hand from me, and I want to call out in protest. He slowly, so painfully fucking slowly, unbuttons his jeans, dropping them to the floor, and kicking them to the side.
“Holy fuck!” I blurt out, killing the romantic heat felt moments ago between us. I stare at the more than generous size dick before me. “You fuck me with that thing, you’ll be coming out of my mouth.”
He wraps his hand around his length and slowly glides his hands up and down, the tip moistening. “I will be cumming in your mouth.” He smirks. “As well as your pussy and your ass,” he states.
I arch my brow at him. “Let’s just see how that beast fits in there.” I point to my pussy. “And in here.” I point to my mouth. “Before I even consider letting you have some bum fun.” I wink.
His smile deepens. “Is that a bet?” he asks.
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head.
He releases his length and lowers himself to his knees before me, his face inches from my soaking wet pussy. He looks up at me, his rich blue eyes glowing. “Give it time, BB, you will be begging me to fuck that tight little ass of yours,” he says with arrogance.
“I very much do—" He swiftly presses his mouth to my centre, wasting no time in using his tongue on my clit. “Fu—” I sigh, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as he swirls, sucks, nips, and fucks me with his tongue. I grip a fistful of his hair in my hand, moving my hips against his tongue. He slides two fingers inside me, pressing on that sweet spot. I moan as his fingers work inside me, and his tongue works my clit. Pleasure builds deep within me, making my thighs tremble. Every muscle in my body coils tighter and tighter as it cracks through my body like lightening splitting across the sky. “Fuck!” I cry out, my release consuming me. He doesn’t let up, still continuing. It’s almost too much.
Relentless, sweet torture as my entire body trembles with need. “Drix, I, oh god,” I pant.
He moans as he devours me, drawing out another orgasm.
Breathless and panting, my hands grip his hair so tight as another all-consuming explosion of pleasure courses through my body.
Shaking and utterly sated, he slowly stands, my arousal glistening across his lips as he smiles, his tongue licking his lips clean. All I can do is look at him.
“I could eat you all fucking day long. Your sweet, addictive pussy is everything I’ve dreamt about.
” He wraps an arm around my back, holding me pressed against him.
I can feel the head of his cock at my entrance.
He doesn’t look away or release me as our bodies press together.
He slowly, inch by beautiful inch, fills me.
My lips part at the feeling of him slowly filling me, stretching me.
His jaw is gritted tight, and something primal flickers across his face.
“Fuck,” he hisses. He keeps going, filling me to the hilt.
Then he just pauses, his eyes searing through mine.
“You on birth control?” he asks, his restraint hanging by a thread.
“Yes,” I breathe, needing him to move. I clench my walls around him, and he lets out a deep groan, his expression turning feral.
“Good, because I want to fill your tight cunt with my seed,” he states before swiftly pulling back and slamming into me hard.
I cry out. He pauses for a moment before doing it again and again, his pace fast, hard, and unrelenting.
With one hand wrapped around my back, while the other grips my thigh, he drives into me, a sheen of sweat coating our skin.
“Not going to last, BB. I need you to cum.” He didn’t need to demand that of me, because I was already on the brink of falling over the edge.
Pressure coils low in my stomach, tightening with every heartbeat, every possessive thrust, until I can’t hold it back anymore.
“Holy fuck!” I cry out,
“Fuck, fuck!” he roars. Every muscle in his delicious body goes taut as he spills his release inside me.
He rests his head on the crook of my neck, both of us panting, trying to regain some composure.
He presses his lips along the length of my neck before lifting his head and looking at me.
His pupils are swallowed by the rich blue, but the possessive adoration pours from his gaze.
The look is so powerful, so soul-consuming, that it catches me off guard.
I clear my throat. “Well, I guess that’s our friendship well and truly fucked now.” I smile.
He lets out a breathy laugh as he presses his lips to mine. “After that, I know with absolute certainty we were never meant to be friends.”