Chapter 8 - Sarah #2
I know it isn't the right time to think about it, but I can't help remembering our night at the motel. How his hands had roamed over my body, appreciating every curve, every soft part of me that I'd spent years being insecure about. How he'd made me feel cherished like never before.
And now, he's facing a deadly threat. He could die. The thought makes my stomach clench with fear, but underneath that is another feeling entirely—desire. Part of me wants a last kiss, a last touch, a last fuck. I want to feel him inside me again before he goes to what could be his final fight.
But how do I say that? I've always been shy. That night with him was the first and only time in my life I've truly let myself loose, followed pure desire instead of overthinking every move.
I also feel guilty for thinking about sex when we're in danger, when I should be packing, when we just had this serious conversation about our future.
"You okay?" Ryan asks, noticing my silence.
"Yes," I say quickly. "Just thinking."
His lips curve into a smile. "If I'm a lucky man, you're thinking the same thing I am."
I gulp, my throat suddenly dry. "What are you thinking about?"
He smirks, that goddamn sexy, annoying smirk that makes my insides melt, and leans closer, moving my hair away from my ear.
His breath is warm against my skin as he whispers, "You're right. I don't know what the future holds. But I know the dangers, and if there's a chance I die in this final fight..." He pauses, his lips brushing my earlobe. "I want to fuck you one last time."
A shiver runs through me. "Isn't the celebration usually after the fight?" I manage to tease, my voice breathier than intended.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. "Usually, yes. But the fight has no date settled yet, and I'm not sure I can resist you now."
My heart pounds against my ribs. "Then don't resist."
The shackles are off. The corners of his mouth go up, his sexy smirk returning as he moves closer, hands suddenly touching every inch of my body.
I lie back on the couch and close my eyes, surrendering to his exploration.
I love the feeling of him touching me, his strong hands grappling and squeezing my breasts through my dress.
"We should go to your bedroom," he murmurs against my neck.
When I open my eyes, he's already shirtless, his cut discarded on a chair.
Goddamn, I missed his lean body and defined abs.
I run my hands down his hard stomach, stopping at his belt.
I grab it and pull him to me as I stand, our lips crashing together in a hungry kiss.
We move through my apartment, bouncing off walls and furniture as we make our way toward the bedroom, a chaotic dance of desire.
Once we're in my room, he closes the door behind him and stretches his muscular arms above his head, a display that makes my mouth water.
I know what awaits me, and I'm so excited I can feel myself already wet and ready, though he's barely touched me.
I climb onto the bed, and he follows, covering my body with his as he pulls off my dress and then my bra.
My breasts bounce free, and he kisses a trail from my neck downward, his lips setting my skin on fire.
He continues lower, over my stomach to the waistband of my panties. He presses his lips to each new inch of exposed skin and keeps going, kissing me through the thin fabric, rejoicing in my writhing response.
I'm so horny that I pull down my own panties, unable to wait any longer.
His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn't speak, just buries his face between my thighs.
His tongue runs along my pussy, lapping at me like he's been starving for water and my juices are the only thing keeping him alive.
His hands grip my thighs firmly, holding me in place as I grasp at the white sheets beneath me.
When he finally lifts his head, his mouth is wet, juices trickling down his handsome face.
"Fuck, I missed this," he groans. "Never met anyone whose taste is as sweet as honey."
I should be embarrassed, but I'm too far gone to care. In this moment, nothing exists outside this room—no bikers, no war, nothing but us and the child we've created together.
He goes down on me again, his tongue circling my clit while he curves two fingers inside me, finding that spot that makes me see stars. I love the feeling of his fingers. The perfect appetizer, but not the main course.
Unlike our first time, I'm ready for his cock now. I still remember how he pulled down his jeans that night, how I gasped when I saw him, bigger than anyone I'd been with before.
He finally stops, leaving me panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly while he just smiles. He kisses me deeply, and I taste myself on his lips—tangy, sweet, intoxicating.
"You ready?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.
"I've been ready since you started," I confess.
He stands, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them off, tossing them aside. His cock strains against his black briefs, a visible throb that makes saliva pool in my mouth. I reach for him without thinking, my hand extending toward the bulge.
"Not yet," he stops me, and I pout in disappointment.
He grins, hooking his thumbs in the waistband and slowly—too slowly—pulling down his briefs. His cock springs free, thick and hard, and he wraps his hand around it, stroking himself before me. He has never looked hotter…
My protector, my child's father, this man I'm starting to imagine a future with.
He moves over me, and his cock slides in easily, my wetness welcoming him home.
He braces himself on his arms, like two pillars on either side of my face, establishing a steady rhythm as our eyes lock.
His are fierce and beautiful, intense with concentration as sweat trickles down his hollowed cheeks.
His musky, masculine scent fills my lungs, intoxicating me further.
He increases his pace, fucking me harder and faster. I bite my lip, trying to contain the moans threatening to escape. I don't want my neighbors, or worse, Viper, to hear, but Ryan feels too good, his cock filling me completely with each thrust.
He was good our first time, but this is another level entirely. Is it the danger? The knowledge that I'm carrying his child? Whatever it is, he's surpassing every fantasy I've ever had.
He slows suddenly, pulling out, his cock glistening with my wetness. "Get on all fours," he commands, his voice hoarse.
I obey immediately, positioning myself with my ass up, face down, looking back at him over my shoulder.
He grips his cock, lining himself up before pushing back inside me.
I gasp at the new angle, tilting my head back as he resumes fucking me, one hand grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling gently.
The sharp sting of his hand on my ass sends shivers down my trembling legs. I'm close, so close. I prop myself on one arm, using the other to reach between my legs, rubbing my clit as he pounds into me. The dual stimulation is too much.
I come hard, my body pitching forward as I clutch desperately at the sheets, making a mess beneath me.
But Ryan doesn't stop. He taps my shoulder, urging me to lie flat. I collapse onto my stomach, and he follows, covering my body with his as he continues his relentless pace. Each thrust drives him deeper than before, his hips slamming against my ass. Sweat drips onto my back, mingling with my own.
"Fuck, I'm coming," he warns, his rhythm becoming erratic. "Gonna fill you up..."
My eyes widen at his words. "Please," I whisper, surprising myself with how much I want it.
He comes with a guttural groan, his cock pulsing inside me as he empties himself. The sensation triggers another small orgasm of my own, my inner walls clenching around him, milking every drop.
He collapses beside me, both of us breathing heavily. I trace patterns along the tattoos on his chest, resting my head over his heart, listening to its gradually slowing beat.
"I never thought I could love someone," he says suddenly, his voice quiet in the stillness of the room. "But now I'm having second thoughts."
"Was the sex that good?" I tease, my fingers still trailing over his skin.
He shakes his head, smiling. "The sex was incredible. But this is different. When I'm with you, I feel... different. Like maybe I don't have to follow in my father's footsteps after all."
"Tell me about him," I encourage softly. "About your family."
He's quiet for a moment, then sighs. "My old man was a mean drunk who beat my mom and sold meth to kids.
He died in prison when I was fourteen. Stabbed in a fight over cigarettes.
" His voice hardens. "My brother followed right in his footsteps.
He's in and out of jail so often they should install a revolving door. "
I tighten my arm around his chest. "I had no idea."
"Not exactly first-date conversation," he says with a bitter laugh. "But that's where I come from. That's the blood in my veins."
"And yet you're fighting to follow a different path," I point out. "Maybe this baby and I... maybe we can be your redemption. A new legacy for you to create."
"A new legacy… I hope so," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I want to be the person you both need me to be. Once this war is over, we can have a normal life. Go on regular dates, all that shit."
"Are you sure?" I ask, raising my head to look at him. "You don't need to decide now. This is all happening so fast."
He smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I've lived a fast life, Sarah. It's where I thrive. And yeah, I'm sure. It's time to grow the fuck up. I've got a family to take care of now."
The word "family" makes my heart swell. I kiss him, pouring all my conflicting emotions into it—fear, hope, desire, even love.
A sharp knock on the front door interrupts us.
"That'll be Viper," Ryan says, reluctantly pulling away. "Stay in bed. I'll handle it."
He pulls on his jeans and heads out, leaving me wrapped in sheets still warm from our bodies. But I'm too anxious to stay put. What if it's not Viper? What if it's the Vultures MC? I slip on a robe and follow quietly, hiding behind the wall separating the hallway from the living room.
"When I said take your time to talk, I didn't mean fuck her brains out," Viper's gruff voice carries clearly to my hiding spot. "It's been forty minutes, and Ghost already messaged asking if everything's okay. Time to go."
"Sorry," Ryan responds, not sounding sorry at all. "We needed this moment before going back to the clubhouse. This is my family now too, Viper."
Viper huffs. "I'm glad you're happy, brother. Love can be a weakness or a strength. You've made it a strength."
"One day it'll be you doing the same," Ryan says.
"Maybe," Viper replies skeptically. "Not focused on that right now. Go tell your girl it's time to go."
I hear Ryan's footsteps heading back and rush to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed just as he appears in the doorway.
"Were you listening?" he asks, a knowing look in his eyes.
I nod, not bothering to lie. "I was scared."
He crosses the room in three strides, taking my face in his hands and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You never have to be scared again. I'll fight to my last breath for you and our child. That's a promise."
Looking up into his determined green eyes, I believe him. Whatever comes next—Vultures MC, danger, an uncertain future—we'll face it together. For the first time since seeing that positive pregnancy test, I feel like everything might actually be okay.
"Let's pack your things," he says, helping me up. "Time to head back to safety."
As I gather clothes and necessities, and I move around Ryan as he helps, I realize something has fundamentally changed between us.
What started as a one-night stand has transformed into something neither of us expected or sought, but something that feels strangely right, despite all the wrong surrounding it.
I'm carrying a biker's baby and falling for him in the process. Nothing about this situation makes logical sense. But as he packs my prenatal vitamins, asking which books I want to bring, which comfort items I'll need, I can't bring myself to regret any of it.
Not even the danger. Not even the fear. Because they brought me to him—to us—to this unexpected family forming against all odds.