Chapter 6
I'm not ready to leave this place. Not ready to face whatever's waiting for us outside. The real world can wait.
I turn over and straddle Legion's thighs, feeling the rough hair against my bare skin. His eyes widen slightly, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"What are you doin'?" he laughs, his hands coming to rest on my hips. "Again?"
"Again," I whisper, leaning down to press my lips against his. "Again, and again, and again..."
His smile grows wider, and I feel something warm unfurl in my chest. This smile—not the careful, controlled one he shows the world, but this real one—it's mine. All mine.
"Close your eyes, Legion."
He hesitates for just a second before complying, thick lashes fanning against his cheeks.
I pull back and slide down his body, dragging my tongue along the sweat-slicked planes of his chest and stomach, careful not to touch his raw, red brand.
I trace the lines of his tattoos with my tongue, following the path of angels and demons across his torso.
His muscles jump under my touch, his breath catching when I reach the trail of hair below his navel. I position myself between his legs, my hair falling forward to brush against his thighs.
"Your turn," I whisper.
I take him in my hand, already half-hard again. He's heavy and warm against my palm as I stroke him slowly, watching his face. His jaw clenches, the tendons in his neck standing out as he fights to keep still.
"Watch me," I say, echoing his earlier command.
His eyes open, dark and hungry. I hold his gaze as I lower my head and take him into my mouth, just the tip at first. His back bucks involuntarily. I place my free hand on his hip, pressing him back down.
"Fuck," he groans, one hand coming up to tangle in my hair. "Savannah..."
I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I suck. His taste is complex—salt and musk and something uniquely him. I work him with my hand and mouth together, establishing a rhythm that has him cursing under his breath.
"Tell me what you want," I say, pulling back just enough to speak. "Tell me how to make you feel good."
"Deeper," he says, his voice strained. "Take me deeper, baby."
I comply, relaxing my throat to take him as far as I can. His grip on my hair tightens, not quite painful but close—a delicious edge that makes me moan around him.
"Oh, fuck," he hisses. "Just like that. Don't stop."
I don't. I work him with everything I have, determined to make him lose control the way he always makes me lose mine. His breathing grows ragged, his thighs tensing beneath me.
"Wait," he says suddenly, tugging at my hair. "Stop."
I pull back, looking up at him in confusion. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he says, his chest heaving. "I just want to be inside you when I come."
He sits up and reaches for me, pulling me up his body until I'm straddling him again. I can feel him hard and hot against me, pressing against my entrance.
"Ride me," he says, his hands gripping my hips. "I want to watch you take control."
I lift myself up and position him at my entrance, then slowly sink down onto him. We both groan as he fills me completely. I brace my hands on his chest, careful to avoid the brand, and start to move.
"That's it," he encourages, his thumbs digging into my hipbones. "Fuck yourself on my cock."
The words send a jolt of heat through me. I've never been one for dirty talk—it always seemed so performative with other men. But with Legion, it feels natural. Real.
"You like that?" I ask, grinding down on him. "You like watching me fuck myself on your cock?"
He smiles at my reciprocal dirty talk. "Fuck yes," he growls. "You're so fucking beautiful like this."
I increase my pace, riding him harder. The angle lets him hit spots inside me that make my vision blur. I can feel another orgasm building, coiling tight in my belly.
I slide my hand between us, finding my clit with practiced fingers. The sensation of being filled by him while touching myself creates an almost unbearable pleasure. My body's already humming, vibrating on the edge of release.
Legion watches me with midnight eyes, his face strained with the effort of holding back. I gasp, my movements growing quicker as I continue to slide myself back and forth across his cock.
His calloused hands begin guiding my hips. Urging me on, making me fuck him faster, deeper, harder. Every thrust hits something deep inside that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. His fingers are pressing into my hips hard enough to leave marks.
But I don't care.
I like it.
I like his rough touch. I like his dirty mouth. I like the way he fucks me. I like the way he looks at me. I like the way he talks to me.
Hell, I just like him.
All of him.
And I can truly say that now that I've seen who he really is.
I am hungry for him. Starving for him.
And as I'm thinking this, I shatter completely, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash through me like a summer storm.
Through the sweet haze of my release, I feel him thrust up hard, once, twice, his body tensing beneath mine before he follows me into oblivion with a sound that's half curse, half prayer.
I collapse onto his chest, both of us breathing hard. His arms come around me, holding me close as the aftershocks ripple through us.
"Fuck," he says softly, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I laugh breathlessly. "Yeah."
We lie like that for a while, connected in every way possible. I trace idle patterns on arms, feeling his heartbeat gradually slow beneath my palm.
And now, I allow myself to drift…
Until I suddenly remember. "Oh, shit!”
"What?" he mumbles.
"We have dinner plans!”
He stiffens slightly beneath me. "What?"
"With Havoc and June," I explain. "At seven. She invited us when I was looking for you. I said yes, obviously.”
Legion moans. His hand coming up to stroke my hair. "I don't know, Savannah. I’m not sure it’s a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Because..." He pauses, seeming to search for words. "This is all happening too fast. You getting that tattoo, the vote, the leaked videos..."
I lift my head to look at him. "Are you ashamed of me?"
"What? No," he says immediately. "Never. I just—I don't want you getting pulled deeper into this life than you already are."
"I chose this," I remind him, touching the fresh tattoo on my wrist. It's still tender, the skin around it red and slightly swollen. "I chose you. And that means… playing the good little woman."
One of his eyebrows rises up to the ceiling. "Good little woman?"
"Oh, my god, Legion. Did you see that June? She's like Betty fuckin' Crocker had a baby with Jesse James."
Legion laughs. "Yeah, June is somethin' else, all right. She's military too. Her aim puts mine to shame."
"Well," I say, "I like her style. Apparently, they have kids?"
"Six," Legion deadpans.
"Six? Wow."
"Yeah." He looks at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighs again. "Dinner, huh?"
"Seven sharp," I say, offering him a small smile. "Havoc said if his kids can be on time, so can you."
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "Havoc said that?"
"He did."
"Well, fuck. I guess we're having dinner with Havoc and June."
I lean down to kiss him, soft and lingering. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For letting me in," I say. "For not pushing me away."
His expression clouds slightly, but he doesn't respond. Instead, he pulls me down for another kiss, deeper this time. I can feel him stirring against me again, his body responding to mine with a readiness that still surprises me.
"We should probably get cleaned up," I murmur against his lips.
"Probably," he agrees, but his hands are already roaming my body, tracing the curve of my spine, the flare of my hips.
"Legion," I laugh. "We'll be late."
"You're the one who started it," he says, rolling us over so I'm beneath him. "And I'm not done with you yet."
His mouth finds my breast, teeth grazing my nipple in a way that makes me arch off the blanket. All thoughts of dinner, of the outside world, vanish from my mind. There's only Legion and me and this moment, stretching out like forever.
His hands are everywhere at once—sliding down my sides, gripping my thighs, lifting my hips to meet his.
Then he’s workin’ his way down my body with deliberate slowness, tasting every inch of me.
The scratch of his stubble against my inner thighs makes me shiver, and when his mouth finally finds me, I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
My fingers tangle in his hair as he works me with his tongue, bringing me to the edge again and again without letting me fall. It's exquisite torture. Just when I think I can't take anymore, he slides two fingers inside me, curling them forward to hit that spot that makes me see stars.
I come apart beneath him, my body convulsing with pleasure so intense it borders on pain. But he doesn't stop. He keeps going, relentless, until I'm writhing beneath him, oversensitive and desperate.
Then he's moving up my body, positioning himself between my legs, and entering me in one smooth thrust. The fullness, the rightness of him inside me makes me gasp.
But this time, neither of us are hard and desperate. We're soft and slow. He fucks me deep this time. His eyes never leaving mine. And as he moves within me, I have a dream. I paint pictures of a future I've never allowed myself to imagine before.
I see us in a house—not a mansion like the one I grew up in, but something real.
Something ours. Maybe a renovated farmhouse with wide porches and room to breathe.
Legion fixing motorcycles in a detached garage while I tend to a garden that actually grows things we eat instead of just looking pretty for Instagram.
I see children—two, three, maybe more—with his wild blond hair and my blue eyes, running through tall grass with dirty knees and fearless hearts. Legion teaching them to ride bikes and throw punches. Me teaching them to ride horses and be polite.
I see family dinners where everyone talks at once, homework spread across kitchen tables, Christmas mornings with handmade stockings hung by the fireplace. Legion reading bedtime stories in his deep voice, making all the character voices despite his protests that he's terrible at it.
I see us growing older together, watching our children become adults with their own lives, their own loves. Legion's hair going gray at the temples, laugh lines deepening around his eyes. My hands becoming more like my mother's, but gentler. Kinder.
And through it all, I see us like this—tangled together, his body moving within mine, that connection that goes beyond the physical. That thing that makes me feel like I've finally found home after a lifetime of searching.
Legion changes the angle, hitting deeper, and the fantasy dissolves as pleasure overtakes me again. He flips us over without breaking our connection, so I'm on top again. His hands guide my hips as I ride him, setting a pace that has us both gasping.
Then he's sitting up, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close as we move together. It's almost unbearably intimate—our bodies completely aligned, foreheads touching, breath mingling. I can feel him everywhere, inside and out.
When he comes, it triggers my own release, and we cling to each other through the aftershocks, neither willing to let go first.
As our breathing slows, I rest my head on his shoulder, unwilling to break the spell just yet. In this moment, that future I imagined doesn't seem so impossible. Not with him. Not if we're together.
But reality is waiting just outside this hunting blind.
Dinner with Havoc and June.
The leaked videos.
My family.
His club.
All the forces trying to pull us apart.
For now, though, I let myself believe in that farmhouse, those wild-haired children, that life where Legion and I get to be just us, without the weight of our names or our pasts.