His to Protect: Midnight Riders MC Page 8

  “How?” She was crying just as hard as before. “I’m so scared, but I can’t! I love my sister too much! I’m so afraid she’s still alive and scared and needing me! How can I just forget about her?”

  “You won’t help her by getting yourself killed.”

  She looked at me, a funny look on her face. “I know. I was thinking the same thing.”

  “See? I’m not wrong. You know I’m not.”

  “I thought you were him when you came to the door!” She covered her face again. I wished she would stop. I couldn’t handle listening to her crying.

  I put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me. “You’re okay right now. I’m here. I won’t hurt you.” That still wasn’t enough to make her feel better. She was still shaking and crying, totally terrified. I wished I had whoever had scared her like that in front of me so I could rip his head off. I was starting to feel protective of her.

  I didn’t know how else to stop her, so I took her chin in my hand and pulled her face to mine.

  She didn’t try to fight it. Instead, she melted into me. Just like before, she sparked to a flame so fast. She was into it, moving against me, her tongue getting tangled with mine. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she sighed when my hands ran up and down her sides.

  I leaned over her, lowering her onto the sofa. She was only wearing a robe, nothing underneath. I slid my hand underneath, just over one of her breasts. It felt as firm and smooth as I remembered. Now I could play with it more easily. She sighed, closing her eyes and breathing heavily.

  “You like that?” I whispered in her ear, swiping my tongue over her earlobe. “Does that feel good?”

  “Mmm-hmm…” she moaned, gripping my shoulders with her fingers. I pinched her nipple and she arched her back, gasping. Then I opened the top of the top a little until one of her milky tits was uncovered. It was perfect. I had to taste her. When my mouth touched her, she arched her back again. This time, she moaned deeply. Like it had been forever. So I did the same on the other side, getting the same reaction.

  I was overtaken by need I’d never felt before. I needed to give her every bit of pleasure she could handle. She needed it. Since when did I care so much, I wondered as I licked my way down her torso and listened to the way she panted and moaned, begging for more. Usually, it was all about my pleasure. Yeah, I wanted to make the girl come at least once, maybe twice, but that was more about my pride. It felt good knowing I could do that to her.

  But this was different. I wanted her to feel as good as she could, because she needed something in her life that felt good for a little while.

  I untied the robe, opening it all the way. Her body was so tight, smooth and perfect. I kissed a trail down to her mound, making her moan and writhe on the sofa.

  “Cole…” She tried to close her legs, but my tongue wore her down. I lapped at her lips, and her legs opened again. She wanted this as much as I wanted to give it to her. Her smell was all around me, driving me on. I had to taste her.

  When my tongue slid between her lips, the sound that came out of her mouth almost scared me. She nearly screamed, her hips shooting up off the cushions.

  “Yes!” She held onto the back of my head, pulling me closer while she pushed her hips up into my face. I knew it wouldn’t take long to set her on fire. I focused on her bud, concentrating all the movement of my tongue there.

  When I slid two fingers into her wetness, pumping in and out, she screamed again. She was straining against me, struggling, wanting to come. I slammed my hand against her, moving my tongue faster on her clit. She went crazy, humping my face until I felt her muscles twitching and I knew she was hitting her climax.

  She screamed again and again, trembling all over. She squeezed my head between her thighs, but I still heard the way she cried my name. I was so hard I thought the zipper on my jeans would break, but I want to focus on her a little longer.

  My fingers were still inside her, and now I curled them toward her belly button. I watched her face, seeing the way her eyes flew open wide.

  “Oh…what are you…oh!” She didn’t know what to think about what I was doing. I kept massaging that rough patch, licking her again. She was screaming again soon, bucking against me, thrashing around. Then she came again, screaming hoarsely. Her entire body shuddered while she moaned and panted for breath.

  I didn’t give her time to recover or think twice. I stood, straining against my zipper, and picked her up in my arms. She was so light, it was like carrying a feather.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice weak and raspy.

  I didn’t answer. I had to make her mine, now.

  There was only one open bedroom door, which I guessed was hers. I placed her on the bed, taking off my clothes without saying a word. She was still trying to catch her breath, moaning, gasping.

  Once my clothes were gone, I stretched out next to Alena on the bed. I ran my hands all over her, touching every inch of her skin. She was super sensitive, still coming down from her orgasms. Her head turned from side to side, her eyes closed.

  “So good…so good…” she kept whispering. “Cole…yes…”

  I swelled up against her hip, every word driving me crazy. I loved watching her, listening to the way she was coming undone.

  I was on my side, Alena on her back. I lifted the leg closer to me, throwing it over my hip. Then I crossed my top leg over hers, giving my throbbing dick access to her. She opened her eyes when she felt me so close to entering her.

  “Okay?” I whispered.

  She nodded, taking the back of my neck in her hand and pulling me in for a kiss as I slid inside. She moaned into my mouth, desperate, when she felt me push into her. I covered her mouth with mine, slowly building my rhythm while we kissed. She bit my lip, grunting. I felt the way she tightened her leg, pulling me closer to her. She loved this—all that good girl stuff was a cover-up for the animal inside her.

  I needed to go deeper, to have more control. I slid out, picking her up and putting her on her hands and knees. “Mmm, yeah,” she moaned, pushing her hips back into me. I slid back into her, taking her by the hips to pump myself into her.

  I slapped her ass, and she squealed. “Yeah…do it again.” I did, on the other side, then slammed myself deep inside her.

  “Cole…” she moaned, arching her back. Her blonde hair swung from side to side. Watching her was almost as good as fucking her.

  What was I doing? Was it wrong? I didn’t care. All that mattered was what was happening right now, in this bed. She moaned loudly, breaking through all my thoughts with the reminder that she was in ecstasy. I pushed harder, really grinding myself in, holding onto her hair as I rode her.

  She moved her hips in slow, sexy circles. Writhing in pleasure. Totally in the moment. It was hot, sensual, better than anything I’d ever felt. The sensation was there, her tight pussy holding onto me, so hot and wet. But the sensuality was different. It wasn’t the same as fucking some random girl, zipping up my pants and going. This was a full-body experience. I closed my eyes, her moans carrying me away.

  We were riding each other, taking pleasure from each other’s bodies. I wasn’t using her the way I used other women. I was giving and getting. I wanted to make her scream.

  I reached forward, taking her by the shoulder, and pulled her up to me. Now she was almost sitting on my lap. She started bouncing, grinding down onto me. I loved it, and let her go to work for a few minutes while I watched her. Then I took a handful of her hair, pulling her head to the side. She yelped, but the increased pace of her thrusting told me she loved it. I sucked on her neck, her shoulder. I bit her earlobe, making her gasp, then moan. She loved a little bit of pain, a little bit of rough to go with the sweet.

  Keeping that in mind, I reached down to hold her tits in my hands. She covered my hands with her own, squeezing, wanting me to be rougher. I squeezed harder, making her moan my name. Her head dropped back onto my shoulder. She never stopped that slow, steady bouncing on me.


  “Feels so good…” she whispered hoarsely, crying out a little when I pinched her nipples between my fingers. “Yes! Cole!” So she did like it that way.

  I kept working on one of her tits with one hand, while I moved down to her mound with the other. She was so hot, so wet. I rubbed the outside at first, teasing her. She slowed down her bouncing, focusing on what I was doing. Now she was rocking, a slow and sexy movement against me. I felt every inch of her around me.

  I slipped my finger between her lips, finding her button. She gasped, then moved faster. I was barely touching her, just rubbing the very tip of my finger over so fast my hand was a blur. She started moaning louder, then louder again. I felt her tighten around me, heard her scream. Felt her shudder, flinging her head back onto my shoulder. I kept touching her, kept thrusting upward, kept playing with her tits. I knew if I kept the stimulation going, she would come again and again.

  As soon as she came down from that high, I slid out of her. Now I got on my back, picking her up and lowering her over me. I could do almost anything to her, she was so light compared to my thick build. That feeling of power was a high I couldn’t ignore.

  I skewered her again, and she almost screamed. Now I took her hips in my hands and slammed her onto me, faster and faster, almost brutally. I wanted to take her hard, make her beg me to stop because she couldn’t stand the pleasure anymore. Her tits bounced so hard and fast she had to hold them still, which was even hotter.

  “Yeah…play with them…” I ordered between grunts as I fucked her. I watched her play with her nipples, her eyes closed, her mouth open. There was a constant flow of moaning coming out of her mouth by that time, getting louder the faster I pumped her up and down. Her voice got higher until she was almost squeaking by the time she came again with a loud scream.

  “Fuck!” She was totally lost, in some blissed-out place. I moved her more slowly while she got over it. She fell on top of me, and I let her stay there while I continued rocking her up and down on my cock.

  “Oh, my God…” she moaned. “What are you doing to me?”

  “What do you think?” I asked, laughing to myself as she whimpered. I was taking her. I was making her mine. She would only want me now. Any other man would have to live up to me, and he would fall short. I would be her every fantasy, every wet dream.

  The thought had me burning, and I punished her by thrusting up into her as I pumped her up and down. She was stretch out over me, moaning endlessly, begging for more. I thought I felt her twitching again, but she was crying out almost constantly so I couldn’t be sure. I kept fucking her, wearing her down, wanting to give her as much as she could take.

  Finally, I rolled over until I was on top of her, then drove my hips down into her hard, fast, sharp. She whimpered louder and louder, and I held on for her. I wanted her to come one more time.

  “Do it for me. Let me feel you again,” I grunted. “Let me feel you come on me.”

  “Oh…God!” She shrieked, legs and arms gripping me as tight as the walls around my cock. That was all I needed, and I roared when I came. She was mine. Completely mine. I slid out and rolled over, totally spent. Every once in a while, Alena would whimper, and every whimper made me feel proud.

  When it was all over, and I started thinking straight again, I asked myself what I’d just done. The last thing I needed was to get involved with her, or anybody. But especially not her. Not when she was hanging around, making trouble for us. I should have gotten here, scared the shit out of her, and left.

  But no. I fucked her instead. Good move.

  When she smiled up at me, though, with the moonlight coming through her bedroom window, it didn’t seem so bad. It felt right, really. Better than anything I’d felt before. It wasn’t just physical, and it wasn’t like I was in love with her. It was just…nice. I wasn’t used to things being nice, especially when it came to sex. Nice was the last thing on my mind when I was having sex.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, looking at me with that innocent smile. She rolled onto her side, facing me. She started running her hand over my arm, my leg, my ass.

  I felt myself getting hard again. Damn, there was something about her that did something to me.

  I pulled her close to me, then rolled her onto her back and climbed between her legs.

  “I’m just fine,” I whispered before we started again.

  Chapter 11

  Alena

  When I woke up, I wondered if I’d be able to get out of bed. I finally understood what it meant to feel like a Marv truck ran me over. I was exhausted.

  But it was the best type of exhaustion I’d ever felt. A happy, wrung-out, relaxed exhaustion. The exhaustion of a night and morning full of sex, better than any I could have imagined.

  I’d seen good sex in movies, or at least, what I’d assumed to be good sex. Screaming and writhing around, mouth open, eyes closed. And always the nails running down the back of whoever was doing the thrusting.

  It wasn’t that sex had been bad or boring for me before Cole. In fact, it had been good. I knew what made my body tick—at least, I’d thought I did. One night with Cole had been like a master class in what my body was capable of. It was like going from a string quartet to a full-blown symphony orchestra. There was more of everything. It was deeper, richer. It felt better. I screamed, and not because I thought he’d like it or thought I was supposed to. I just had to scream to let out some of what I was feeling. Intense didn’t describe it.

  I’d lost count of the number of times we’d done it, too. He was unstoppable. I would barely recover before he was on me again—but I was never too tired to jump to response. That was another surprise, how I was always ready for more, no matter how exhausted I felt. Just when I thought I would die if we didn’t stop because I couldn’t take another orgasm, he’d touch me a certain way and my body would accept the challenge.

  We fell asleep right after our last marathon session. Sunlight had been coming through the curtains when my eyes slid shut. Now we were tangled up together in a mess of sheets, arms and legs. My head was on his shoulder, my hand on his chest. I could feel his heartbeat against my palm.

  I opened my eyes slowly, not wanting to break the spell over us. I knew without looking that Cole was still asleep. His breathing was slow and even. I couldn’t resist craning my neck a bit so I could look at his face, and when I did he took my breath away. He looked so peaceful and sweet, like an angel. I knew it was an illusion—the man was anything but an angel. Maybe a dark angel, if anything. But in sleep, he looked innocent. I wondered at the sort of person he was before he joined the club. Who would he have been had he taken another path?

  This sort of thing fascinated me. I used to wonder all the time how my life would have turned out if my father had been a stand-up guy. If he had stuck around for Sara and me and our mother, how different would things be? If I had been able to live like a normal teenager, what would have happened? I did a lot of this sort of thinking when I was a kid, watching my friends go off to live their lives like normal kids did. In darker moments, when I was the most frustrated, I would imagine an amazing life. Boyfriends, parties, the prom. I would be accepted into a great college and join a sorority and meet a rich boy, and we’d get married and live happily ever after. Sara was never a part of these fantasies.

  Those fantasies faded the older I became, but I never stopped wondering about the choices our lives hinged on. The smallest choices could have such massive impact. What would I have become if I’d stopped practicing piano and violin? They were both a huge part of my life, but if I had rebelled as a kid and decided riding my bike was more important than working on my scales, I wouldn’t earn money as a performer. If I’d never taken a chance and agreed to play during a friend’s gig when their keyboardist got sick, I wouldn’t have discovered how much I love to perform live.

  If Dad hadn’t left, maybe Sara wouldn’t have Daddy issues and wouldn’t have gotten involved with the club.

  I felt cold all over w
hen that nasty thought worked its way out from my subconscious. I’d been trying to bury it, but there was no getting around it. What if Sara hadn’t felt that pull toward the club? Where would she be right now? At home? Working? Living her life?

  It was as though Cole heard my thoughts because one of his arms tightened around me. He comforted me even as he slept. I let myself sink into his embrace, my head on his shoulder again.

  I realized I was happy. It was foreign, something I hadn’t felt in ages. Not since before Sara disappeared.

  At first, I felt guilty. Was it all right for me to feel happy right now? Shouldn’t I be miserable? Worried? I didn’t know what she was going through, but if she was still alive, she had to be in some uncomfortable situation. Hurt, alone, scared. Did I deserve this happiness? It felt like I was betraying her.