Chapter 27 Evie #2
He scowled at Aiden before giving me an apologetic smile as he walked out, his bike still out front, and I wondered if the girl was in the crowd of them watching or if she was curled up on the couch waiting for Aiden to run back.
I hoped she’d be too freaked out to ever show up around here again. Who wants to hang out with a crazy girl?
Aiden locked the door behind the last of them and engaged the bay system, sealing us in. He didn’t speak, only crossed the garage with deliberate steps, checking everything once before zeroing in on me and his bike.
There was no anger on his face, and he gave no indication of what he was about to do. Part of me trembled, the unknown of Aiden being angry making me worry. He’d been annoyed with me plenty of times, but I’d never wrecked his bike before.
Damaging a bike in this house was the ultimate sin—a final nail in a coffin during an angry rampage.
Maybe in my case, a final fuck-you to Aiden for thinking he could do this to me.
He stepped up to the other side of the bike and I flinched as his hand reached toward me.
“What’s wrong, you little psycho? Worried I’m going to retaliate?”
“I already know you are.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because you were trying to fuck her.”
“And? What if I was? I don’t belong to you, Evie.”
“Until I’m done with you, you do. You also left me tied to a bed, which I don’t appreciate.”
He groaned, pulling me closer. “I do. Get on.”
“On what?”
“My bike.”
“Why?” I asked, keeping a close eye on every movement he made.
“Because if you’re going to cost me hundreds for a new tank, and days without my bike, I’m going to get my enjoyment out of this.”
“How?”
His hand snaked up my arm to my neck. “On the bike, little psycho. Take those shorts off first.”
“Why?” I asked, not moving.
His hand brushed up my arm until his fingers closed around my neck, squeezing once.
“Are you going to ask questions all night, or are you going to listen?”
Chills covered me, my body humming in anticipation. I leaned down, pulling the waistband of my shorts until they moved past my hips and slid to the ground.
“Now get on and ride it.”
“The bike?”
“The handle of the knife you shoved into my gas tank.”
“Aiden,” I breathed.
I swung a leg over the bike, the metal cool against the inside of my thighs. My palms slipped a little on the bars, slick with sweat. The handle of the knife jutted up from the tank like a dare.
I rose onto my toes and lowered myself slowly, the cool ridged grip brushing my skin before pressing inside.
The shock of the cold metal stole my breath—it stretched me differently, rougher, and the vibration of the bike beneath me hummed up through my bones.
Gasoline and musk filled my nose as my body trembled, adjusting to the intrusion.
Aiden swung a leg over and sat opposite me, so close I could feel the heat rolling off him while the handle sat cold and merciless inside me. It was obscene, intimate, and so perfectly us.
He sat on the main seat as I faced him, fucking a knife.
A damn knife.
“I thought when I bought you that knife, it would end up in a man’s throat, not in my bike. How funny that I now prefer this. How’s your blackmail going?”
Every time Aiden initiated anything, I wouldn’t be fighting it.
I gripped the handlebars behind me, my thighs trembling as I lowered myself onto the knife handle. The cool metal sent shockwaves through my core as it hit my clit. I hissed, pulling myself back up.
“Back down, Evie, now.”
I shifted my hips, moving back against it, and feeling the cold metal slide deep inside me. The ridged handle created a friction that sent sparks of pleasure radiating through me. Aiden’s dark eyes burned into mine as I began to move, lifting myself up and down in a slow, teasing rhythm.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Take it all.”
I stopped, pulling my legs wider as he watched.
When I started to move again, I went slow at first, rolling my hips in small circles. The angle was awkward, but the fullness was exactly what I wanted. My breath came in short gasps as I found a rhythm, sliding up and down the handle.
Aiden’s hands gripped my waist, guiding my movements. “Faster,” he commanded.
I listened, picking up the pace. The bike creaked beneath us as I bounced on the knife handle, my arousal building with each thrust. Sweat beaded on my skin in the cool air of the garage.
Aiden’s grip tightened on my waist as I rode the knife, grinding against it with increasing urgency. The friction was overwhelming, and I could feel every inch of the handle inside me.
“Such a good little psycho,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine. “You like that, don’t you? Being fucked by the knife while I watch?”
I moaned in response, unable to form words as pleasure coursed through my body.
Aiden leaned forward, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.
When his mouth finally claimed mine, it felt like a line crossed. Not a threat, not a taunt—his lips were warm, steady, claiming. The kiss tasted like mint and flames, a heat I could never explain filling my chest.
For a second the garage, the knife, the bikes all blurred, and it was just him and me—no revenge, no anger, only the dangerous gravity between us. Then his tongue slid against mine and the world snapped back into sharp focus, heat flaring down my spine as I kept moving on the handle beneath me.
For the first time tonight, I felt seen.
Not as a tease, not as a psycho, not as a girl who would wreck his bike—but as me, the one he wanted, the one he couldn’t resist. Every heartbeat thrummed against his chest, every breath he drew into me felt like a claim, a promise, a warning—and I wanted all of it.
My body shook against the cold knife handle, but my chest swelled in a way that had nothing to do with the metal beneath me—it was him, here, kissing me, making me feel like I mattered more than anything else in the world.
Somehow the rough, twisted foreplay turned into one of the most romantic moments of my life.
I could feel myself spiraling closer, every nerve ending alight with need.
My thighs quaked as I rode the knife handle, the ridges pressing deep, teasing, unforgiving.
Aiden’s fingers dug into my skin, gripping tight as he guided me faster, harder, forcing me to move exactly the way he wanted.
Every stroke, every shift of his hands, sent fire rippling through me, and I trembled uncontrollably.
A sharp gasp tore from my throat as heat pooled low, curling and twisting until my muscles tensed, tight as coiled springs. I knew the marks from his fingers would bruise in the morning, but in the moment, they were a cruel, delicious pain to my pleasure.
“Come for me,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine, breath hot and urgent. “Let go and come all over the knife and my bike.”
The words ignited something in me. My world narrowed, reduced to the sharp bite of metal beneath me, the searing heat of him against my back, the cool air brushing my skin.
My hands gripped the handlebars until my knuckles ached, my body rising and falling with the relentless rhythm of release.
Every pulse crashed through me, waves of pleasure folding over each other, until I felt utterly undone.
Aiden’s eyes burned into mine, dark and hungry, tracking every shiver, every gasp, every tremble. I let myself fall, letting the waves rip through me until I could do nothing but collapse against him, breathless, shivering, and utterly satisfied.
Minutes went by before I pulled back, a slight smirk playing on his lips as his hand traced a slow line up my back, fingers tangling into my hair. “You thought you could ruin me and get away with it?”
I swallowed, my pulse racing as I held his gaze. “Maybe.”
His mouth quirked into a dangerous grin, his thumb brushing over my cheek, grounding me. “Guess you’re stuck with me now, little psycho.” He leaned in, his lips at my ear as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I’ve only gotten started.”