Chapter 7 - Emma
Crow's words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, send me over the edge. My second orgasm crashes over me, more intense than the first. I cry out his name, my body arching as waves of pleasure course through me.
"That's it, baby," he growls, slowing his movements but not stopping. "So fucking beautiful when you come."
As I come down from the high, I become acutely aware of his still-hard cock inside me. He's holding back, I realize, letting me recover.
"Crow," I pant, running my hands down his muscled back. "Don't you need to...?"
He chuckles, "Oh, I'm not done with you yet, doll." He pulls out slowly, making me whimper at the loss. "Turn over. On your hands and knees."
A thrill of excitement and nervousness runs through me. "What?"
His eyes rake over my body as I lie there, making me feel exposed and desired all at once.
"You've got an ass too perfect not to be appreciated," he says, "Want to see it while I fuck you."
The crude words should shock me, but instead, they send a fresh wave of heat through my body. Slowly, I turn over, positioning myself as he asked. I feel vulnerable like this, but the way Crow groans makes it worth it.
"Fuck," he breathes, his hands running down my back to cup my ass. "Even better than I imagined."
I look over my shoulder to see him kneeling behind me, his cock hard and glistening with my arousal. The sight makes me clench with desire.
"Please," I whisper, not even sure what I'm asking for.
He understands, though. One hand grips my hip while the other guides his cock back to my entrance. "Ready?"
I nod, bracing myself. When he pushes in, it feels even deeper in this position. I moan, dropping my head between my arms.
"So tight," Crow grunts, starting to move. "Feel so good around me, Emma."
Crow's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder, more insistent. One hand grips my hip tightly while the other tangles my hair, pulling gently to arch my back. The new angle allows him to hit even deeper, and I cry out at the intense sensation.
"That's it," he growls, his hips snapping against my ass with each thrust. "Take it all, Emma."
Sweat trickles down my forehead and between my breasts as he pounds into me. I try to look back, wanting to see his face, to witness the pleasure I'm giving him. But the position and his grip on my hair make it difficult.
"Crow," I moan, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "So good... I'm close..."
His rhythm falters for a moment before becoming even more intense.
"Come for me again, doll. Want to feel you squeeze my cock when I fill you up."
The combination of his words and the merciless stimulation pushes me over the edge once more. I cry out, my body shuddering as another orgasm washes over me.
Crow groans behind me, his thrusts becoming erratic. With a final, deep push, he stills, and I feel the warmth of his release inside me. His grip on my hip tightens almost painfully as he empties himself.
After a moment, he pulls out slowly, making me whimper at the loss. There's a sharp slap on my ass, not hard enough to hurt but enough to sting pleasantly.
"Stay just like that," he says, his voice rough.
I comply, still on my hands and knees, feeling exposed but too sated to care. I hear him move, and then the bed dips as he sits on the edge. Looking over my shoulder, I see him watching intently as his seed begins to trickle out of me.
The possessive, satisfied look in his eyes makes me shiver. This is a side of Crow I've never seen before - raw, primal, completely uninhibited. And God help me, but I love it.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, running a hand down my spine. "Fucking perfect."
I collapse onto the bed, rolling to face him. "That was..."
"Just the beginning," he promises, his eyes squinted with renewed hunger. "We've got all night, doll. And I plan to make use of every minute."
Still catching my breath, I curl into Crow's side, his arm wrapping around me. The sweat is cooling our skin, but I don't want to move to get under the covers just yet. This moment feels too perfect to disturb.
"Can I ask you something?" I venture after a while, tracing patterns on his chest, following the lines of his tattoos. "It's... personal."
He hums, his fingers playing with my hair. "After what we just did, doll, I think we're past being shy about personal questions."
I smile against his skin but then hesitate. "Why did you and Wrath really come to Cedar Falls?"
His body tenses slightly beneath me, and for a moment, I think he won't answer. His hand stills in my hair as he stares at the ceiling, the muscles in his jaw working.
"You don't have to tell me," I add quickly. "I just... I've always wondered."
He's quiet for so long that I start to regret asking. But then he takes a deep breath.
"We didn't choose Cedar Falls," he says finally, his voice low and rough. "Truth is, we were running."
I prop myself up on an elbow to look at him, but his eyes remain fixed on the ceiling.
"Running from what?"
"Our old man," he says, jaw clenching. "Social services. The whole fucking system. I was 19, could take care of myself, but Wrath... he was still 16. They wanted to put him in another foster home, and I couldn't... I couldn't let that happen. Not after what we'd been through."
The pain in his voice makes my heart ache. I lay my hand over his heart, feeling it beat strong and steady.
"Our dad," he continues, finally meeting my eyes, "he was a mean drunk. Used to beat on us, especially Wrath. Said he was too soft, too weak. Every time social services got involved, we were sent to a different foster home. Some were okay, some were worse than our old man."
"That's horrible," I whisper, fighting back tears.
"Last foster home," his voice grows darker, "the bastard tried to... he went after Wrath one night. I lost it. Put him in the hospital. We knew they'd press charges, try to lock me up, so we ran. We were stealing food from a gas station when Hellfire caught us," he continues after a moment. "President of Iron & Blood MC. Most people would've called the cops, but he... he saw something in us. Saw two brothers willing to do anything to stay together, to survive."
"What did he do?"
A small smile touches Crow's lips. "Gave us a place to stay. Food. Taught us how to fight properly, how to protect what's ours. Showed us that family isn't just blood - it's loyalty, brotherhood. He even helped us legally, got the charges dropped by proving self-defense."
"That's why you're so devoted to the club," I realize. "They saved you."
"Yeah." His arm tightens around me. "Gave us purpose. Direction. Showed us that the violence we'd learned to survive could be channeled into something meaningful - protecting our territory, our people."
I press a kiss to his chest, right over a tattoo of a crow in flight.
"Thank you for telling me. Can you also tell me why everyone calls you Crow?"
He finally looks down at me, his eyes intense. "When I first joined the club, I had this thing about collecting shiny objects - rings, chains, anything that caught the light. Couldn't help myself. The brothers started calling me Crow after they caught me lifting a silver lighter off some rival's bike. Started when I was a kid. Never knew when I'd be moved next, so I'd take something small and shiny from each place. Something to prove I existed there, you know? Old habits die hard. Never told anyone why I did it though. Not even the other brothers know the full story.”
"I won't tell anyone," I promise.
"I know you won't." He rolls us suddenly, pinning me beneath him. "Trust you, Emma. More than I've ever trusted anyone besides my brother."
The weight of that confession hits me hard. This man, who's been through so much, who's learned to trust so few, is sharing his darkest secrets with me.
"Vincent," I whisper, reaching up to touch his face.
"Don't," he says roughly. "Don't say that name. Don’t look at me like that. Don't want your pity."
"It's not pity," I tell him firmly. "It's pride. Pride that you survived, that you protected your brother, that you built something good from something terrible. You're the strongest person I know."
His eyes soften as he looks down at me. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Every word."
He kisses me then, soft and deep, pouring everything he can't say into it. When he pulls back, there's something different in his eyes - something lighter, like sharing his past has lifted a weight from him.
"Stay with me," I whisper. "Not just tonight. Stay."
"You sure about that, doll? Being with me means being with all of me - the club, the danger, everything."
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I've never been surer of anything."
He studies my face for a long moment before a slow smile spreads across his. "Good. Because I'm not letting you go now that I've got you."
"Promise?"
"Promise." He kisses me again, then adds with a smirk, "Besides, what kind of man would I be if I didn't stick around to teach you everything else you've been missing out on?"
I laugh, happiness bubbling up inside me. "I do have a lot to learn."
"Lucky for you," he growls playfully, nipping at my neck, "I'm an excellent teacher."
As he sets about proving just that, I know this is where I belong - in his arms, in his life, in his world. It won't be easy, but nothing worth having ever is.
And Crow Harrison? He's definitely worth having.