CHAPTER SEVEN
– LUELLA –
I place a mug with coffee on the bedside table for Macsen and walk around the bed to sit on my side against the headboard. My hands are warm from cupping my second cup of coffee as I stare down at a sleeping Macsen.
The man is ruggedly handsome. The hard angles of his face are slightly relaxed, making him more approachable.
Broad muscled shoulders, one of them carrying some kind of Celtic knot tattoo.
Along his side is a larger tattoo of more swirls and knots leading down to his leg.
The man is completely ripped. Lean and yet the man’s charisma combined screams strength.
I fought him the first time we met. I’ve felt the brutal strength and essentially overpowered him in a frozen second when he discovered the person he was fighting was a woman. That’s how I was able to place my knife at his throat and walk into the warehouse holding him captive.
Over the years I’ve fought many men, most knew their time was up when I confronted them, but Macsen fought.
..almost overpowered me...and then gifted me with a moment of his weakness.
That fragment of a second drew me in, and it’s probably why I took the opportunity of spending the night in his bed when it was presented to me.
The comfort, pleasure, and warmth he cocooned me with was a unique experience. It threw me off, and it’s why I lashed out at Macsen the morning after when my father came to the clubhouse to return Livi and Kenz, indicating our time together was up.
Ever since my father told me about my first arranged marriage, I allowed myself the occasional daydream. Being a wife, becoming a mother, living a completely different life than the one I was used to. An untouchable mirage disappearing into thin air because life truly sucks no matter what.
Though, as I stare down at Macsen who groans and rolls onto his back, throwing a muscled arm over his eyes? I wonder why I couldn’t have the kind of nights and mornings we just had every day of my life.
My life. As if I had one. The way I was raised would horrify most people, and here I am complaining while my father has always been there for me.
As a kid growing up, he sat right next to me watching cartoons, eating ice cream, making me bubble baths.
He didn’t mistreat me, and I remember all too well it was me who told him I wanted to learn about weapons.
He started sharing hints of information with me and I’d always give him my opinion, even if I was only ten years old.
As the years passed my self-defense training and gymnastics turned into rougher and harder training to fine-tune my skills.
I’ve always sought the approval of my father, followed his advice and orders, never realizing there would come a time we would grow apart.
My father’s actions, setting up the arranged marriage, might have come due to ulterior motives, but he must have known it would drive a wedge between us.
Lies have a way of bubbling to the surface.
Then he repeated history...well, this arranged marriage shouldn’t take place because I killed my fiancé. Yet, it turned into something messier.
Macsen groans and I feel the reminder of his mouth between my legs.
Not just his mouth, his cock spent a lot of time inside me over the night.
No condom. There should be warning bells going off inside my head and yet the possibility of a pregnancy doesn’t scare me.
Especially not now with the bond between my father and I disrupted.
A child would be a new beginning. A chance to cut out my old life and start to focus on life instead of torture, destruction, and death. One thing’s for sure, though. I would never take advantage of the power a parent holds over a child.
“I smell coffee,” Macsen rumbles.
The way Macsen reacted when he found out about my situation tells me he agrees with me. Which also makes me wonder if he knows the risks he took by taking me without a condom.
Without thinking I blurt, “Do you want kids?”
Macsen slowly drops his arm from his face and lifts himself into a sitting position.
“How long have you been awake, waiting to pop that question?” he rumbles in a raw with sleep voice.
He reaches for the mug on the bedside table and takes a sip while staring over the rim at me.
I huff out a frustrating breath and swallow down the last bit of my coffee. “We didn’t use a condom, or condoms for that matter.”
A sly grin tugs his kissable mouth. “I’m very aware of the way you felt when I was bare inside you.
I figured it didn’t make much of a difference since I already shoved my cum inside you the last time when I came all over your back, and also in your ass.
Both times it dripped down your pussy and I fingerfucked you into another orgasm, remember? ”
My heart skips and my mind spins. When did I have my last period? They aren’t regular, and I’m sure...shit. Did I skip a period? Am I late because...oh.
“To answer your question, yes. I want kids. It would be one hell of a bonus if you’re the baby momma. I’d have your sweet and tight pussy all to myself.”
My eyes widen at his response and all my mind has to offer is, “My pussy wouldn’t be as tight after I push a head the size of a melon through it.”
Macsen barks out a laugh and has to hold his mug away from the bed to prevent it from spilling the coffee from the way his body shakes.
Swinging my legs off the bed I mutter, “I wasn’t joking.”
“Your pussy will be fine, darlin’. Besides, every damn minute I spend with you spikes a thrill through my veins.
” He gives me a leveled look. “Not the kind of thrill an assassin would draw out. I know what you’re capable of, and it’s why I’d never underestimate you.
It’s the connection we have. The way we burn up as soon as we collide, that’s what assures me we have potential for more.
Especially since no other woman has managed to hold my attention for more than a quick fuck, nothing compared to the compulsion you flare inside me by fucking like bunnies all through the night. ”
My lips part while my brain is trying to come up with a reply.
The chance to skip saying anything is offered to me by the ringing of my phone. Anger flares when I notice my father’s number flashing across the screen.
“What?” I snap.
“My office ten minutes,” he grunts and ends the call.
“Someone else also needs more coffee to start the day,” Macsen rumbles and places his empty mug on the bedside table.
I watch his sculpted ass walk into the bathroom. The way this man makes me feel is terrifying. Having him in my space as the first man ever doesn’t make it any easier, as is the thought of being pregnant already from the first night we shared two months ago.
My phone is still in my hand and I quickly surf the web to order stuff online, including a pregnancy test. If anything, it would grant me a way out. Not only from my father’s bidding, but especially the arranged marriage that’s still in place.
After placing the order, I quickly get dressed, as does Macsen, and strap all my weapons to my body. Time to hopefully get more information from my father. I’m guessing that’s what put him in a bad mood this morning, or maybe it was the knowledge Macsen spent the night under his roof.
Being pregnant by a biker would be a huge middle finger to my father, though that’s not a good reason to be happy with a pregnancy. Perks. Extra perks. Shit. First, I need to take a test to see if I am indeed pregnant, then I’ll handle whatever comes after.
Besides, Macsen might blabber stuff about liking my pussy now, but the men I’ve been around aren’t loyal to their wives.
Some cheat behind closed doors, others out in the open.
I’ve been to the Wisely Dicey clubhouse and have seen the scantily dressed chicks hop from cock to cock.
The biker lifestyle doesn’t have a good monogamous reputation.
Judgement. It’s overflowing my mind. I take a breath and remind myself to deal with one thing at a time.
First, I need to handle the fiancé situation.
And why the hell is there more than one of them?
Not to mention, snuff movies. Killing the enemy is one thing, killing for pleasure, or for someone else’s entertainment?
I’ll gladly feel the warmth of another Gideon’s blood drip from my hands than to let them continue with their shady side business.