Chapter 7 - Angel
My whole body is still tingling from what just happened, but I want more. Need more. The way Ruthless is looking at me – like I'm precious but also incredibly sexy – makes heat pool in my stomach again.
"I want more," I whisper against his lips. "I want you."
He groans, pressing his forehead against mine. "We'll go slow. If anything hurts or you want to stop—"
"I trust you," I cut him off, running my hands down his chest. When I reach the waistband of his boxers, he catches my wrist.
"Angel," his voice is strained. "You don't have to—"
"I want to touch you," I say, surprised by my own boldness. "Show me how?"
He guides my hand lower, and I gasp at the feel of him, hard and hot even through the fabric. When I slip my hand inside his boxers, wrapping my fingers around him, he drops his head to my shoulder with a groan.
"Fuck, baby."
The power I feel in this moment is intoxicating.
Ruthless – strong, controlled Ruthless – is trembling because of my touch. But then he's pulling away, standing to remove his boxers, and I can't help but stare. He's big, thick... Perfect.
"See something you like?" he asks, but there's tension in his playful tone.
I nod, unable to find words. He's beautiful – all muscle and tattoos and raw masculinity. And he's mine. The thought makes me bold enough to lift my hips when he hooks his fingers in my panties.
The way he looks at me when I'm finally entirely naked makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
"Last chance to stop," he says softly, brushing hair from my face.
"Don't stop," I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Make me yours."
His kiss is fierce and possessive as he positions himself. "
This might hurt at first," he warns. "Hold onto me, baby. I've got you."
The initial pressure makes me tense, but his fingers find my clit again, circling slowly until I relax. When he pushes in, there's pain – sharp but brief – and I dig my nails into his shoulders.
"Breathe," he murmurs, staying perfectly still. "That's it. Just breathe for me."
I do, focusing on his voice, his touch, the way he's looking at me like I'm everything. Gradually, the pain fades, replaced by a feeling of fullness, of rightness.
"Okay?" he asks, and I can feel him trembling with the effort of holding still.
"Yes," I lift my hips, and we both groan. "Please, Ruthless. Move."
He does, starting slow, teaching my body this new dance. Each thrust brings less discomfort and more pleasure until I'm moving with him, matching his rhythm.
"That's it, baby," he encourages, his voice rough. "You feel so good. So perfect."
Words fail me as the pleasure builds again, different this time but no less intense. All I can do is hold onto him and let him guide me higher and higher.
"More," I gasp against his mouth. "Faster."
He obliges, picking up the pace, and the new rhythm drives me crazy. But there's something else I want, something I've fantasized about during lonely nights.
"Wait," I push at his shoulders. When he immediately starts to pull back, concern in his eyes, I shake my head. "No, I mean... I want to try something."
Understanding dawns on his face as I push him onto his back. "Angel..."
"Let me," I straddle his hips, feeling powerful despite my inexperience. "Show me how?"
His hands find my hips, guiding me as I sink down onto him. From this angle, he feels even deeper, and I have to pause, adjusting to the sensation.
"Fuck," he growls, his fingers tightening on my skin. "You're so beautiful like this."
I start to move, experimenting with different angles until I find one that makes us both moan. His hands guide my rhythm, but he lets me set the pace, lets me discover what feels good.
"That's it, baby," he encourages as I begin to move faster. "Take what you want."
His words embolden me. I might be new to this, but I know what I want. What I need. I lean forward, bracing my hands on his chest as I ride him harder.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, one hand sliding up to cup my breast. "You're going to kill me."
I smile, feeling sexy and powerful. "Thought you were supposed to be ruthless?"
His eyes darken at my teasing. Without warning, he sits up, wrapping an arm around my waist while his other hand tangles in my hair. The new position has me gasping, taking him even deeper.
"Careful what you wish for, baby," he growls before kissing me passionately.
We move together now, finding a rhythm that has pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in my core. His mouth trails down my neck, biting gently at my pulse point, and I know he's marking me. Claiming me.
Good. I want to be claimed. Want everyone to know I'm his.
"Ruthless," I moan as the pressure builds. "I'm close..."
"Let go," he commands, his voice rough with need. "Come for me, Angel. Want to feel you come apart on my cock."
His crude words, so different from how gentle he's been, push me over the edge. I cry out his name as pleasure explodes through me, more intense than before. He follows right after, groaning my name into my neck as his hips buck up into mine, and he fills me to the brim.
We stay like that for a long moment, wrapped around each other, both breathing hard. His hands stroke my back soothingly as I come down from my high.
"You okay?" he asks softly, pressing gentle kisses to my shoulder.
I nod, too blissed out for words. Everything feels perfect – the way he's holding me, how our bodies fit together, even the slight soreness between my legs.
"That was..." I finally manage.
"Yeah," he agrees, pulling back to look at me. His eyes are soft and tender in a way I've never seen before. "You're incredible, you know that?"
I blush, suddenly shy despite what we just did. "So are you."
He kisses me again, gentle this time, full of promise. And I know that whatever comes next – the war with the Outlaws, the club's reaction, my father's acceptance or lack thereof – we'll face it together.
Because this? This is worth fighting for.