Chapter Twenty-Two #3
“No. I’m tired of pretending I’m not hard as fuck with you sitting next to me looking so fucking innocent and pure. Looking at me like you want to bite me. Touch me again and I swear to God I’m gonna make you scream through the motherfucking walls.”
I smirk, but my thighs instinctively press together. “Bathroom. Two minutes.”
He doesn’t nod.
Doesn’t speak.
Just stands and stalks off, pure fucking predator in black, like the suit is the only thing holding back the impending carnage.
And I can’t fucking wait.
But I do.
I wait until the slow count of thirty, long enough to seem innocent, short enough to make him wait, then slide away from the table, drink in hand, smile plastered on like I’m not about to commit sin behind a locked door.
The moment I step into the bathroom, the door slams shut behind me, and I’m pinned against the wall so hard my spine rattles.
“Jesus, Alpha—”
He crashes into me, mouth seizing mine, lips brutal, tongue claiming, hands already under my wedding dress like he’s trying to fistfight the fabric off my body.
“Don’t ‘Jesus’ me now,” he growls. “Not after you spent the entire goddamn reception giving me those eyes.”
I shove his chest hard. “You’re the one who’s been edging me with your stupid speeches and soft looks all day, like you didn’t plan on wrecking me the first chance you got.”
His grin is all teeth. “Baby, I’ve been hard since the fucking vows.” He grabs my hips, lifting me effortlessly, shoving me back against the tiles, and I slap him across the face with force. His head snaps to the side as the crack echoes.
His eyes flare wide as a slow grin crosses his face. “Do that again.”
So I do.
My palm stings with the force of the blow.
This time, he snarls. With one hand holding my ass, the other wraps around my throat, not tight, just enough to hold me still as he presses his forehead to mine. “You’re a menace.”
“You married it, baby.”
He groans like I’m pain and pleasure wrapped into one unholy package, then bites my lower lip so hard I taste blood.
I arch against him, clawing at his jacket, my hands wild and greedy. “My dress is too tight,” I pant.
“Don’t need the dress,” he snaps. “I just need you.” He shoves the skirt up, bunching the satin at my waist, and sliding the zipper on my back halfway down before he gives up entirely like a man deranged.
My dress is half hanging off. His hand finds my panties, white lace, barely there, and he yanks them down.
They don’t even hit the floor before he’s stuffing them in his jacket pocket like a trophy. “I’m keeping these.”
“You always say that.”
“And I always do,” he replies as he moves to his slacks, pulling out his cock.
I bite my bottom lip, staring at his thick and hard length as he moves back in, his hands grabbing at my ass to hoist me back up.
“Not waiting till tonight. I just need to feel you.” Then he thrusts in hard, and I nearly scream. My head hits the wall, my breath stolen when he fills me completely.
“Oh my God—”
“Say my fucking name,” he growls.
“Alpha! Fuck, Alpha, you—”
“That’s right. Say it louder, Little Lamb.” He starts pounding into me, every thrust sending me higher, my back scraping the cold tile, my nails clawing at his shoulders. His grip on my thighs tightens until I’m sure there’ll be bruises, but I want them.
I need them.
He buries his face in my neck, breathing me in like I’m oxygen after a war.
“You feel like fucking home,” he rasps. “You drive me fucking insane.”
I laugh, breathless, hysterical, because the feeling is mutual.
“You love it.”
“I love you.”
He stills for a moment, cock buried to the hilt, chest heaving. “You really do, don’t you?”
I shift my gaze to his, with a warm, genuine smile. “Yeah, I fucking do.”
His nostrils flare, and he slams forward, kissing me, rough, desperate, and full of everything he can’t say. Then he pulls back just enough to reach down and yank hard.
“What the hell?” I gasp as cool air hits my thighs.
He holds up the ripped lace garter that was clipped to my thigh, snapped in two like it was paper.
“You are not about to—”
“Oh, I am,” he growls. “Hands up, Little Lamb.”
I glare but obey, arms lifted above my head against the wall, and he uses the garter like a makeshift restraint, tying my wrists to the coat hook, the pressure rough and fast, his knot messy but more than effective.
“You’re a fucking psycho,” I hiss, squirming.
“I’m in love,” he counters, nipping at my collarbone as he thrusts again. “And I’m gonna fuck you so good, the next person who uses this bathroom’s gonna smell sin on the tiles.”
Pinned, restrained, and wrecked, I’m nothing but a trembling, filthy promise unraveling in his hands.
Alpha’s hips piston into me, brutal and relentless, every thrust a demand, every slam a punishment and a reward wrapped in one.
The sound of our bodies crashing together is vulgar and wet, echoing off the bathroom tiles, and I crave it.
My breath shudders out of me, too fast to catch, too broken to slow.
He’s rough, ragged, panting like a beast, and it feeds me. The strain in his forearms, the way his jaw clenches, the ripple of muscle down his back, I feel him unraveling, and it sends heat flooding through me, wild and fast.
“That’s it,” he growls against my ear, voice all gravel and fire. “Take it all. Let me give you everything.”
I do. I am. I’m taking him into every broken crack of me and letting him wreck it wider.
His rhythm stutters for a half beat, just enough to tell me he’s close, and then he goes harder. Deeper. The kind of thrust that shoves the breath right out of my lungs and makes my vision spark.
I feel him swelling inside me. The tension is climbing in his thighs. The strain of restraint shaking down his spine. He’s holding on by a thread, and it drives me insane.
“Oh fuck!” I gasp, my nails digging into my palms as his teeth sink into my neck. “Alpha—Jesus!”
He bites harder, then licks the sting. “Come on, baby. Snap for me.”
My climax rushes up like a massive truck with no brakes, blistering and unstoppable. My spine arches, heels digging into the small of his back before a scream breaks loose, sharp and high. My pussy clenches violently around him, pulsing, dragging him right over the edge with me.
He lets go with a feral roar, thrusting so deep it feels like he’s claiming my soul, his release spilling into me in hard, desperate spurts. His whole body seizes, arms shaking, breath gone, like he’s being ripped apart just to give me more.
And I feel it all. The twitch of his cock buried deep, the guttural sound he makes when he finally spills, the tremble in his thighs. It shatters me all over again, another wave of orgasm dragging me under until my limbs go useless, and all I can do is cling.
We collapse together, a wreckage of sweat, teeth marks, and bruised love.
My wrists are still loosely tied, but he untangles me gently, even as we’re both panting like we’ve just gone ten rounds in a cage fight.
His forehead presses to mine, hot and damp. One hand finds my hair, the other sliding under my thigh to hold me closer, deeper still, like he can’t stand the idea of being separate, not even for a second.
“I fucking love you,” he rasps, broken and real.
“I know,” I whisper back, mouth swollen, body ruined. “I fucking love you too.”
We stay like that, breathing each other in. Our chaos spent…
For now.
But our kind of love?
It never stays quiet for long.
Eventually, though, he kisses my nose. “Hi, wife.”
“Hi, lunatic.”
“I’m lucky you’re batshit enough to marry me,” he mutters, then kisses me like it’s the only language we’ve ever shared. He grins. “Even still, wanna do round two in the car?”
I nod. “And maybe break the gear stick.”
He kisses me again. “That’s my girl.” He slides me down and helps me get into some semblance of normal so I can make my way back out into the throngs of people here to celebrate us, just so we can slide right past them out into the parking lot.
I love that they’re all here to celebrate us. To celebrate our love. But right now, I just want Alpha inside me, for the rest of the night. And if we have to be in the parking lot of Gears to make that happen, I am okay with that.
The rest of the evening blurs together in the best possible way. Alpha and I spend probably too many hours avoiding our guests and fucking in the parking lot. But eventually, we make our way back inside to the party, back to the fun.
I let loose and enjoy myself. Dancing with Alpha to music that ranges from classic rock to country to stuff that makes the older members shake their heads in confusion, to laughing with Bea and the girls.
Then, watching Poppy dance with Maverick, spinning around in her dress like the young girl she still is underneath all that training.
But it’s the quiet moments I treasure most. Alpha’s hand in mine as we watch our family celebrate. The way he looks at me like I’m his whole world. The feeling that finally, finally, we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Alpha murmurs as the evening winds down.
“Just thinking about how we got here,” I say, leaning against his shoulder. “A year ago, if someone had told me I’d be married to the president of LA Defiance, wearing not only a dress, but a wedding dress, planning a future…”
“You’d have shot them,” he finishes with a chuckle.
“Probably, a number of times.”
“And now?”
I turn to look at him, this man who somehow saw past the weapon I was trained to be to the woman I could become. “Now I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”
He kisses my temple, soft and sweet. “Good thing, Mrs. Landry. Because you’re stuck with me.”
“I don’t know if stuck is the right word. I think I’d say… happily, contentedly and ecstatically situated,” I agree.
He grins as the last of our guests start to filter outside of Gears and head home to the clubhouse.
Alpha and I remain on the back lawn, swaying to “Love Me Tender.” The string lights cast everything in golden light, making the moment feel like something out of a dream, and I smile as Clover and Phoenix join us on the makeshift dance floor.
I smile at them, the happy couple so fucking loved up, our brother, Maverick, standing at the edge of the dance floor, Sadie in his arms, watching us on, and I can’t help but feel for him. Both his sisters are married, and he’s still waiting for his turn with Sadie.
Maybe after the baby comes.
It’s all about priorities.
Leaning my head against Alpha’s shoulder, his soft voice is like silk against my ear. “Are you happy?” he asks quietly.
I slowly glance up at him with a genuine smile. “Blissfully.”
And I am.
For the first time in my life, I’m not looking over my shoulder, not waiting for the other shoe to drop, not bracing for the next fight.
I’m just happy.
We’re just happy.
And that’s everything.
“Come on, wife,” Alpha says, taking my hand. “Let’s go see what that gorgeous dress looks like on the floor.”
Laughing, I follow him toward the parking lot to head back to the clubhouse, toward our future, toward whatever comes next.
Because whatever it is, we’ll face it together.
Always together.
But probably naked.