Chapter Twenty-One
Harley
I barely even wait for Edge’s bike to shut off after he pulls up by the house before I fly out the front door. I don’t even bother with shoes but run to him in my bare feet.
“Edge!” I hurtle against him and grin when I feel the gentle whoosh of breath leave his chest at the impact.
He wraps his arms around me as I twine mine around his neck.
I glance up at him, into his dark aviator sunglasses that hide his eyes from me.
He isn’t smiling, but then again, his smiles are a rare treasure.
I feel like I’ve been blessed with so many over the past couple days that it makes my mind spin.
“Edge, you won’t believe it! Leah organized everything.
She got all the old ladies together and—” I trail off, turning in his arms and taking his hand in mine. “Just come see.”
I pull him up the front steps and he follows, lets me lead him into the house. He glances around the living room after he slowly removed his sunglasses. He blinks hard.
“What happened here? I went out for a few hours and the place got… bedazzled while I was gone.”
My grin splits my face so wide that it hurts.
“Do you like it? Everyone brought something. Either something from their house or… they even brought groceries. And they tilled that patch outside that I wanted to turn into a garden! They brought groceries too! Like a real housewarming. Are you hungry? You must be, I’ll make you something… ”
I trail off as Edge scrubs a hand down his face. He looks so at a loss that my chest constricts. “Do you… do you now like it? I- I know it’s your house, I just thought—”
“No.” He shakes his head and his copper eyes pin me to the spot. “I like it.” He brushes his hand through his hair. “I’m just a man and men like me don’t have finer tastes. Whatever you want for the house, it’s fine. It’s not just mine now.”
I’d been so caught up in the excitement of everything that I failed to notice the most basic details. As my eyes rove over Edge’s broad shoulders and massive chest, I realize that something is wrong. Really wrong.
“Where’s your vest?” He never takes it off. That vest is his prize possession. The only times I’ve ever seen him out of the house and not wearing it is if he’s doing something that he doesn’t want to be associated with the MC.
Edge blinks. “I left it at the club.”
“You what?”
“I left it at the club,” he mutters, facing me this time, thinking I must not have been able to read his lips. “It was hot. Sweltering. Sticky. I was wringing wet before I rode home. Took it off and left it in my room.”
He smiles at me and it’s so dazzling that it takes my breath away, and for the moment, the jacket is forgotten. Edge doesn’t lie to me. Ever. If he says he left it there, strange as it is, then he left it there.
“Are you hungry?” I’m already on to the next thing, thinking about all the amazing things I can make with what’s in the fridge, when Edge’s eyes darken.
His eyes track every single movement I make, until I understand what he’s actually hungry for.
“I… oh,” I gasp. Heat pools in my belly and my cheeks flush with the rest of my body. “I- Edge, I’m so sore…”
He closes the distance between us and sets his warm, rough hand at my cheek, cupping my face. “More than one way to ease that hunger. I want all of ya, Harley. Every single last bit.”
I imagine his words are dark and deep, gravelly with need and want, and a shiver rips through me.
I know what he wants. He wants me to submit fully to him, to own my body completely, to be my master, my man, to own me in all sense of the word.
I feel my lips curve into a smile at the thought of that.
Edge’s hands slip to my arms, but he’s gentle, conscious of the stitches and the pain his touch could bring. “I want you in every way, Harley. I wanna make you mine I need you more than I need food or water or air or anything else. You’re all I have.”
Desire erupts in my belly, lighting my skin on fire. A shiver of fear and anticipation licks up my spine and makes my legs weak. All it takes is a single nod and his lips are on mine, scalding and hot, unyielding and demanding.
I let out a little gasp as his hands sweep around my hips and he lifts me easily by my ass. I dig my fingers into his shoulders and hang on as he walks us down the hall towards the bedroom, still kissing me, licking and nipping at my lips.
He sets me down and the second my feet hit the floor, he tears at my jeans.
His big fingers are surprisingly adept at stripping me down.
He rips the denim down my legs so hard that my skin prickles and burns.
He throws them aside after, carelessly, then strips my panties away just as hard, nearly tearing them off me in the process.
“Sit down. On the edge of the bed. Spread your legs wide for me, darlin’.”
Even though I’m growing more used to his commands, my face still flushes hot at the way his eyes rake over me, follow my every movement as I perch on the edge of the bed, plant my feet, and open myself to him.
His eyes darken dangerously. “Beautiful. So wet for me already.”
I moan, because it’s the truth. I can feel the rush of moisture welling up, trickling down onto the new quilt that Edge probably doesn’t even see, because he’s completely enthralled with me.
It gives me a heady sense of power, that in surrendering to him I’m actually the one who might be in control.
“Touch yourself,” he commands. “Nice, slow circles. Part yourself so I can see how wet you are.”
My fingers trail down, over my belly, to do as he asks.
I part my folds while he watches me, standing over me, a dark shadow that I love with my entire being.
I watch a shudder trace its way through him, rocking his broad shoulders.
I watch his eyes darken, how the pupil eats up the iris completely as I touch my soaking pussy for him, for both of our pleasure.
“Put your finger inside.” I imagine his voice is husky and dark, on the verge of losing control, because a vein throbs in his temple as I watch him watch me.
I obey his command, even though I’m so sore that my muscles protest even my slender index finger. It feels good, heightening the sensations and when I bring my other hand to slowly swirl over my clit, I throw my head back and sigh at the rawness of the pleasure.
I never tear my eyes from Edge’s face. “Do you want my tongue there?” he asks. He grinds his teeth after, so that his jaw clicks.
“Y-yes,” I pant
“Yes, what?” he taunts me.
“Yes, I want your tongue.”
He drops to his knees in front of me and the sight of his big, rough face there, buried between my straining thighs, nearly sends me over into a sharp climax. I hold back, because I don’t want to come yet. I want his tongue, his mouth, his teeth.
“Keep working yourself. Your finger in your sweet cunt,” he commands as he looks up at me.
I moan as my fingers slide inside. I’m soaked and there’s no resistance.
Edge kisses his way up my thigh, right to my tight, aching heat.
He swirls his tongue over my entrance and laps at the juices spilling out around my knuckle.
I feel the moan vibrate through him and then, while I’m working myself with my finger, he goes straight for my clit.
I expected him to draw it out, but his hot mouth is like an onslaught waging war on me.
Even just the pressure of his warm lips is heaven, but then he sucks my clit into his mouth, kissing it tenderly with his tongue.
It’s all it takes for me to shatter completely.
I close my eyes and throw back my head and cry out his name.
He doesn’t stop, swirling and circling my clit harder, licking and suckling at me until it intensifies the climax, sending me tumbling straight over the edge again.
I pant through it, through the shockwaves of pleasure so intense that it hurts, until I finally come back down.
Edge gently takes my hand and guides my finger out of my still clenching pussy.
He looks up at me before he takes my finger into his mouth.
He groans as he sucks it clean. My body vibrates watching him do it, the aftershocks ripping through me harder and sharper watching him do it, savor me like I’m some rare delicacy.
“I want to show you what’s possible. Everything. Want to take you and claim you rough, but I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
I hesitate, even though wicked heat pools in me and my sex throbs at the prospect of what he wants. Of how taboo his desires are. Of how much I want him to show me, to teach me, to break me and reshape me and make me whole again.
“I- Edge, you’re…” My eyes fall to the bulge in his jeans.
I know just how big he is, how he stretches me until I think I’m going to die, how he makes me feel so impossibly full.
And proud. Proud because I’ve taken him all, taken him in my mouth and inside of me, even if it hurt, even if I’m so sore that each step causes me pain.
“I promise I’ll work you in slow. I’ll never hurt you, Harley.”
His words render me speechless, because at the end of what he’s saying, I look up into his eyes and see his love burning there for me.
Even through the fear, his words cut straight to my heart.
I want to give him this. I don’t want there to be anything between us, a single barrier.
I want him to claim me, each and every part.
I want to be owned by him, to surrender to him, to be fully and completely, his.
“Y-yes,” I stammer. “Alright.”
Edge lets out a hard breath that I didn’t even realize he’d been holding. I watch his face transform, watch his lips part as he struggles to take his next breath, to regain control, I realize.
“Take your shirt off, Harley. Your bra too. Want you completely naked under my hands.”
I hurry to do as he asks. His words send a dark thrill through me.
I watch him as I peel away my tank and then my bra, baring myself completely to his heated gaze.
He doesn’t move to undress and the fact that he’s still standing there, full clothed, is raw and wicked and dirty in a way that I can’t explain.
A rush of wetness coats my thighs, trickling down my legs.
“Take my cock out,” he commands. I can tell his words are rough and guttural because his jaw is clenched so tightly, his lips barely move at all.
I undo his belt and then work his jeans open.
He lets out a hiss of pleasure and his body jerks hard when I tug his jeans and boxers down and grip his huge cock in my small fist. He throbs there, so warm and alive and incredibly huge that my mouth goes dry and the breath leaves my lungs.
It’s the same way every single time I look at him.
His raw masculine beauty leaves me breathless.
The fire in his eyes burns brighter as he stares down at me and I look up.
“Good. Now- hands on the bed, Harley. Spread your legs wide and bend over. Show me that beautiful ass. I know you won’t be able to hear what I’m telling you, so you just have to trust me.
I’ll guide you with my hands. It might hurt at first, but it will be a sweet pain. Do you understand? Do you trust me?”
I can only nod, fear and lust mingling in my belly. His eyes glow as he looks down at me, and I know that whatever happens, I can trust him. Trust him beyond anything in the world, because I am his and he is mine.
“You want me to stop, you tell me and I’ll stop. You got that?”
“Yes,” I mumble, his cock still throbbing in my hand.
“I mean it, Harley. I want this, but if it’s going to take time, that’s alright.
Don’t want you to do this because you think you have to.
Don’t want you to be in pain and not tell me.
You got that? Trust goes both ways. I can’t know what you’re feeling unless you tell me.
We need to go slower, we will. You feel me? ”
“Yes.” I mean it, and I know he hears my sincerity when his eyes darken further.
I turn slowly, bending over, my ass in the air, my hands planted firmly on the mattress.
I’m spread open for him, lewdly spread, my sex leaking down my thighs, swollen and glistening for him, my ass on full display.
I imagine what he sees, and my stomach clenches so tight that I feel it straight to my toes.
I know he’s going to use me and use me hard, take me and mark me again, and that I’ll have to trust him, put myself in his big, capable hands and surrender fully.
And I do. Trust him. I want him to use me. I want him to mark me. I want to surrender. I want to be fully his because I was always made to be. Made just for him. I know that he might bring me physical discomfort or even temporary pain, but that he’ll never hurt me.
So I squeeze my eyes shut tight and take a deep inhale and wait for the first caress of his calloused fingers against my burning skin.