Chapter 23
Rowan
Reaper rode through the wilderness behind the clubhouse–aptly named The Devil’s Wilderness– until we came to a stop at a hidden lookout.
It was stunning, peaceful, secluded. I handed him my helmet and climbed off the bike.
He followed as I headed to the lookout, a wooden railing about waist height was in an arc type formation, overlooking a beautiful waterfall.
I walked past a picnic table and bench seating, and toward the railing.
The sound of rushing water falling and then crashing had a beauty within itself.
It was calming to my already shot nerves.
Especially when I had my very own MC Prez stalking behind me like I was his last meal on death row.
A plaque on the side of the railing read:
In memory of Henry Creed, viciously loyal, fierce, and forged in violence.
Creed…as in Creed’s Crossing?
Before I could ask, I felt him close the distance between us. His arm snaked around my waist, his hand moving under my top. Reaper’s mouth was on my neck, kissing his way down my shoulder. I was lost to the sound of the crushing water, and his embrace.
“Weren’t you going to tell me about the Forsaken Crew?” I managed to get out as his hand drifted to my mini skirt, his rough fingers running over my bare thighs, causing a ripple of goosebumps to light up over my skin.
“Later,” he said, gruffly, his teeth grazing over my earlobe. I turned my head just in time for him to catch my lips with his own. The kiss rendered me mindless as I got swept up in him.
He lurched me forward. I pulled away from his lips, gasping when I realised he’d made my hands hold onto the railing tightly, before he pushed me forward onto it. His feet kicked my ankles out wider, my skirt over my hips and my panties ripped from me.
“Seriously, Wyatt,” I grunted. “You’re going to have to buy me a goddamn lingerie store.”
“Stop fucking wearing them then,” he growled, his hand coming down to smack my ass.
I pitched forward more, my hands holding onto the railing harder as I looked down at the beautiful water below me.
His fingers slid between my folds, easily sliding into my core.
There was just something about him, and his bike, and well…
fucking everything, that made me wet with just a simple touch or growl.
Yeah, it was definitely the growl.
“Fuck me, you’re so wet already,” he growled in my ear, and I preened. A moan escaped from me as he slid a second finger into me. “Is it me or is it the waterfall, huh?”
A third finger and I felt my body press against the railing, the rough wood digging into my chest. “You, it’s definitely you,” I cried out, loving how deep his fingers were, how wide he was stretching me. He pulled his fingers out of me, and I almost yelped at the sudden loss.
The sound of his belt buckle opening and zipper being pulled down had my thighs clenching in anticipation. His cock was at my entrance, nudging softly, before I felt his hand circle my throat and squeeze, his mouth next to my ear. “Good fucking answer.”
Reaper slid his cock into me in one thrust until I could feel his hips on my ass. I cried out into the air, my scream echoing in the dense wilderness. I slammed one hand over my mouth to silence myself, when I felt Reaper pull all the way out.
“I want to hear how loud I make you scream, Rowan, don’t ever silence yourself.”
I tore my hand away, taking hold of the railing once more, just as he pumped into me, hard, fierce, and claiming. His fingers dug into my hips, painful, and yet incredibly sexy. I lived for the pain, for the way he held and squeezed my neck, dominant, and only ever after my pleasure.
Reaper fucked into me like a man possessed, and only ever after my own gratification, a claiming for him, and a promise to me. I wanted this for the rest of my life. The realisation came at me with a startling clarity that had tears peaking at the corners of my eyes.
I loved him.
A loud crack came from under my hands and chest. I gasped when I felt the railing wobble underneath me.
Fear shot through my body. I heard Reaper grunt as I squeezed around him.
His arm wrapped around my waist tight and before I could stop it, the railing from underneath me fell into the water below.
I hung over the edge, held up by his arm, and his hand around my throat.
Breathing became impossible. I could fall if his arm slipped.
I could plunge us both into a watery grave.
Hell, maybe that’s the way to go.
When Reaper pulled me back, his cock so deep in me that I felt like an addition to his body, I groaned at the sensation.
His fingers tightened around my throat, cutting off my air, as he hauled me upward.
His cock was reaching places inside of me I didn’t even know existed, his mouth on my jaw, my earlobe.
“Do you trust me?”
My mind tried to respond, but I couldn’t think as he pumped his cock into me, my back to his front, his fingertips digging into my neck. I was seeing stars as the sound of his growl and the waterfall were loud in my ears.
“?” he asked, a thrust after every word.
I nodded, as much as I could with the air being cut off from my throat. Slowly, he eased his hold on my throat, placing a gentle kiss on my heated skin. He placed my hands on the arch of the railing, to the sides of where the railing had fallen.
“Don’t let go,” he said, before he bent me over, so I was looking down at the water below, and pounded into me.
One arm was wrapped around my waist tightly, his other hand on my hip, and his cock slamming into me so hard, I could scarcely breathe.
“God, Rowan, you’re squeezing the fuck out of my cock. Come for me, baby.”
The growl that erupted from him after that had my pussy clenching hard over his cock, as I cried out into the air, my scream echoing toward the crashing water. “Fuck, Wyatt, yes!”
He tightened his grip on me, as I felt my body snap violently, all the blood rushing to my pussy and clit, sending me into a euphoria like I’d never experienced before.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled in my ear, as he pulled me up to lean against one of the railings to the side of the arch, pulling my leg up to give him more room, and for him to slam into me harder, deeper.
Shit. Fuck. Shit.
What was my name again?
A few more hard thrusts and I felt Reaper come hard inside of me, his relieved grunts echoing around me, and wrapping me up in a cocoon.
Forever.
That’s how long I want to be with this man.
The sky was the most beautiful aqua blue as I laid next to Reaper on the picnic table, in silence. I’d never felt so at peace anywhere.
“How do you know about this place?”
“Every Shackled Son does,” he said. “This place was where Creed originally founded the clubhouse. The original clubhouse exists just down past the waterfall, but it’s cut off now. Have you heard of the Forsaken Crew lore?”
He sat up a little, leaning on his elbow as he looked down at me.
Shaking my head, “No. Is that how the Sons started up?”
Reaper nodded. “It started way back when Henry Creed, the founder of the Sons, was transported here as a convict. He’d made a friend on the ship, Elijah Ayres, and when they got to the settlement, they were the ones all the prisoners went to for anything that needed to be dealt with.
Both of them didn’t back down from the guards, and they were respected.
Stronger together, like brothers in chains, not by blood. ”
“What happened?” I asked.
“What always happens with power…”
“Greed,” I answered the unasked question.
He nodded. “They broke away from the settlement, and took a large chunk of the prisoners with them. They lived in the bush. I guess they became bushrangers, fighting against the corruption of the English guards. A lot of men lost their lives in their fight for freedom.”
“What caused the split to happen?”
“As they both continued to cause chaos against the English, their motivations diverted. Elijah wanted stability, a leadership as you will, which is directly against what Creed was fighting for. He wanted freedom, whereas Ayres wanted an empire.”
“And? Jesus, it’s like pulling teeth with you.”
He chuckled. A warm, genuine chuckle that lit me up from the inside. How could I be hot for a man’s chuckle? What has he done to me?
“They fought, alliances were divided. It culminated in a shoot out. Both were wounded in it, but at the end of the shootout, they came to an agreement. Territories were split, men chose their sides. Ayres built his Ironborne Crew, and Creed settled in a dusty town with his men, and they built their businesses and went out hunting for sport. They lived off the land, away from the cities that were emerging. Slowly, in the twentieth century, it formed into a motorcycle club.”
“The split remains to this day?”
He nodded. “As you see, Ironborne and Shackled Sons are always trudging along the line that was drawn. We’ve had turf wars over the years, but nothing that would tear Sydney apart.”
“Even after all this time?” I asked him. “Surely with different leadership you can come to an agreement.”
“Maybe,” he sighed, running his finger down the middle of my chest, and down to my thigh. “Now that Mannix is in charge, there may be something we can do. He’s not like his old man.”
“Mannix?”
“Yeah, the guy driving Frankie away from Crossbones earlier,” he said. “How does she know him?”
Mannix? She’s never mentioned Mannix. “That’s Man—oh…she calls him Manny. She just met him, seems like a good rebound for the whole thing with Chaos.”
“Hmmm.”
I could see a stormy cloud cross over his gaze, as if he’s deep in thought. “What’s up?”
“Chaos isn’t happy. He saw who it was. Whatever happened between the two of them, it wasn’t one sided.”
“You said he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy.”
“He’s not,” Reaper answered easily. “But, I have seen the way he looks at Frankie, and I saw the way he was itching to wrap his hands around Mannix’s throat at the thought of him being with her. Maybe…something changed. I know it did for me.”
“She swore until she was blue in the face at the diner that the thing with Chaos was over and Manny was her new man, but when I mentioned Chaos to her, she got agitated, and looked away. I figured he broke it off painfully and she was upset about it.”
Reaper sighed. “He’ll get over it, so long as she doesn’t start shit with the Ironborne and cause us grief.”
“At least she can’t torment him by calling him Cruz anymore.”
Reaper looked at me, his brows furrowed. “He told her his name?”
I shrugged. “Suppose so, don’t know how else she’d know it. Frankie’s like a dog with a bone. The second she knows something, she doesn’t let it go.”
“Hmmm.”
I rolled my eyes and jumped off the table, righting my clothes, before my eyes drifted to the closed off road. “What happened to the old clubhouse?”
“No one knows for sure,” Reaper said, joining me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “Could have been a landslide, or a shoot out. The two sides were malicious against each other. They’ve fought over turf wars since the beginning.
There’s another place. No one knows where it is, not even we do.
Apparently, there’s an old diary of Creed’s somewhere that splits up the land and territories, and it’s signed by both parties.
If we found it, and we found out that the territories the Ironborne are on actually belong to us, then we may have a reason to get them out. We could take over.”
“Would that still stand? A diary entry?”
“If the Ironborne seal is on it, yeah. If they are anything, it’s loyal to their code. Just like we are.”
“What if the old clubhouse was where the diary is hidden? Didn’t you say that’s where he started the club?”
Reaper looked out at the distance, probably knowing exactly where it was, even though it all looked like mountains and greenery to me. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve been looking for decades. No one’s found it yet. It’s lost to another time.”
I nodded. “Okay. So…why’d you bring me here?”
Reaper turned me in his arms, his hands resting on the small of my back, warm, comforting, safe.
“This is where I go when I need peace, from the club, from my fucked up family, my life. I wanted to share it with you, so if you needed that, or even peace from me. You come here.”
He was sharing his space with me, where he found peace.
“And if I want to get rid of two sluts who can’t understand that you aren’t theirs?” I asked, before I could stop myself.
Reaper laughed, kissing me on the temple. “Well, there’s now a gaping hole where the railing was. It would be a shame if they were to…lose their footing, now wouldn’t it?”
I reached up, grabbing his neck and pulling him down into a kiss to show him just how much I fucking wanted him, especially for that comment, for accepting the darkness inside of me. “I fucking love you, you know that, Wyatt Jameson?”
He growled his approval against my mouth, “You fucking better.”