My breath hitched, and he raised the fabric up, exposing my naked breasts to the cool evening air which blew in from the open doorway he'd just entered through.
Carefully, deliberately, he palmed each of my tits, rolling my nipples with his fingers sharply and I felt my knees turn slightly to jelly. He leaned in close, placing his lips on my ear.
“Shhh,” he breathed, dropping my breasts and flicking open the fly of my jeans.
Before I had more than a moment's notice, he'd already yanked the tight denim of my pants down to my knees.
With his green eyes locked on mine, Arlo put his boot on the crotch of my jeans and shoved them down to the floor, stepping close and whispering against my ear.
“Get your foot out,” he growled, and I listened, yanking my right foot free as he bared his own rock-hard erection from his jeans. Arlo clamped a hand over my mouth with one hand and curled the fingers of the other under my thigh, lifting my leg up and savagely thrusting his massive cock into me with one quiet grunt.
My fingertips clenched on his biceps as he pounded into me, my toes barely reaching the floor.
Arlo was wild and fierce in that moment, but he wasn't the Horned God, a primal beast of fertility and desire. No, he was a man, a biker and he was ramming me into the wall like a clubwhore.
And I loved it.
Letting my heavy lids flutter shut, I let him drive into me with needy fury, heat and pleasure ricocheting through my body, making me feel weak, dizzy, vulnerable. And I hated that, that vulnerability. But I let Arlo have it in that moment because it felt good and because … he seemed like he needed it.
With a deep, low grunt and a final few thrusts of his hips, he spilled himself inside of me with a shudder, pulling away suddenly and leaving me hot and bothered and shaking. I slumped down the wall, my legs unable to keep me standing.
“Get up,” Arlo growled as his mother's voice echoed down the hallway, calling us back into the living room. I sat there on the floor, panting, still wearing my heels, jeans tangled around my legs. After a moment, he mumbled something under his breath and leaned down, scooping me up from the floor.
The idea of getting rammed into the wall by some random biker was hot, but I also liked that random biker showing a bit of tenderness by picking me up. He carried me a room just off the hallway and heeled the door shut.
“There's a bathroom just in there,” he said, pointing at the cracked door in the corner of the room. “Don't take too long back here. We should get going anyway.”
“I'm not finished,” I said, but Arlo just smirked at me.
“So what? I am.”
“And I'm not,” I snapped back, but he was already shoving the bedroom door open and then slamming it behind him. I sat there on the edge of his bed for a moment, probably leaving a suspicious stain on the comforter—which he deserved—as I looked around the room. There were posters on all the walls, most of them of women, cars, or motorcycles. The room itself didn't tell me a damn thing about Arlo. It was generic, empty, like all the good stuff had been cleaned out a long time ago.
I was about to give up and head into the bathroom when the door opened again and there Arlo was, shoving his jeans down his hips and flipping me over. He clamped his hand over my mouth again as he thrust his thick, hard cock inside of me. Oh. The Veil Keeper was very proud of her male, coming back to service her. The human part of me was surprised he was ready to go again … both parts were glad it was happening.
Arlo's childhood bed creaked beneath his massive weight as he filled my body with the velvet wrapped steel of his shaft. And this time, he used the fingers of his free hand to reach underneath me, the rough pad of his thumb teasing my clit and bringing me to such a rapid orgasm that I really did scream, the sound muffled by the warmth of his massive palm.
He continued his rapid thrusting until a grunt escaped his throat and he had his way with me a second time.
“Don't even think about snooping around in here. There's nothing to find. If you want to know something about me, ask.” Arlo pulled away from me and fixed his pants, crossing his arms over his chest while he waited for me stand up, plop down on the toilet, and clean myself up.
By the time we got back to the living room, everyone was staring at us and it was fairly fucking obvious that we'd been … well, fucking.
“Jesus H.,” Arlo's mama said with a long sigh, looking up at the two of us like we were crazy. “To be young and stupid again.”
“I am older than the universe in which you sit,” my voice said automatically, almost without my permission.
“Maybe,” the blonde said, glancing over her shoulder at me, “but the girl in those eyes is young, dumb, and crazy. You watch yourself with these fae, little girl, because they'll as soon break you as they will take care of you. Life in a motorcycle club is a double-edged sword—the finest protection … at the highest price. Fail to pay, and watch it all fall apart.”
Shadows swept around me, monsters without name, decades without hearing the sound of another's voice. Everyone thinks they have a breaking point, but in reality, that's just the first marker of the race. Once it's shattered, another goal will show itself, another landmark to measure time by.
After that, another. And another. And another.
Each time that breaking point is reached, the mind, the heart, the soul, and even the body can reach new heights.
But then … your head hits the sky, far beyond the point where you thought you'd take your last step, breathe your last breath. That's when you know you've truly reached it and everything falls apart.
My soul … was tired. My knights, dead and gone. I was alone in blackness with nothing but pain for company. And I needed a way out.
The only way was for me to give up this body, this life, these memories that I loved so much. Some were mine, some were from previous Veil Keepers, but they all held a special place inside my heart. I didn't want to leave. No, I wanted to believe that at some point, salvation would come.
It never did, and I needed a way out.
But even then, my stubbornness persisted and I stayed. Even then, I made myself fight for one more breath, one more day.
It was only when their torture reached new heights, needles digging into my brain, the very depths of my soul … that I knew I needed to leave. If I didn't, then one day I would break and they would know.
They would know everything and they would murder the world.
I couldn't let that happen.
I wished I could say it was fate, destiny, that I chose her because she was meant to be chosen. In reality, it was a simple coincidence, a collision of circumstances. She died the moment I fled. I gave her my body and she freed my soul.
Becoming the Veil Keeper, it seems like it should arrive with pomp and circumstance.
Sometimes … it's just a gasp and a scream.