Captured (Devil's Blaze MC #1)

“It’s six, sweetheart. We have to leave early to go to Beast if you’re spending the day there. I have a meeting with Diesel and his crew today when they make it in from Tennessee.”


“I don’t want to go to the hospital today,” I yawn, trying to ignore the sliver of fear that hits me. “I thought I’d stay here today and be close to you. That way, if you got some time, you could sneak off and make good on your promise.”

“My promise?” he asks.

I smile up at him, my hand going to the locket he gave me. I slept in it because I can’t bear to take it off. “Yeah. Remember? The whole worship-my-body thing? I think I heard mention of my toes curling and angels singing, too,” I joke. I know every word he said. I’ll never forget last night for as long as I live.

“Is that a fact?” he says. He’s smiling and, for the first time in days, I see happiness in his eyes.

“Si,” I tell him saucily. “And it was my wedding night, so I’m hoping you weren’t overestimating your abilities.”

He throws his head back and laughs.

“That does it,” he says, undressing.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, which is a stupid question, but I wasn’t really expecting this reaction. He yanks me out of the bed, tugging on my hand. Then he takes my mouth in a hard kiss. When we break apart, I look up at him. “What are you doing?” I repeat like an idiot.

“Giving my wife good morning sex. Now turn around.”

He kind of manhandles me so that my back is facing his front. I smile at his use of the word wife. My arms rest upon his, which are wrapped around my waist, and I take in the heat of his body for a minute. I love the way it feels when his skin presses against mine. It never fails to give me a feeling of contentment.

“Skull, sweetheart, I know I’m the new one at all of this, but I kind of think you have to turn me around to get to the goods.”

“Oh, querida, I’m afraid I’m been neglecting your education.” He hadn’t, not really, but I decide to play along.

“I probably didn’t marry well,” I tell him with a playfully heavy sigh.

His hand comes up to my neck, holding me with force. Chills of excitement course through my body. I feel the graze of the stubble on his jawline rub against my neck. A second later, warm breath touches my ear.

“You may pay for that one, my darling wife,” he whispers right before I feel a hand glide down my side. It moves against my ass, then lower. His fingers dive between my legs, pushing just beyond the lips of my pussy. I can’t stop the moan that escapes as I push my ass against him. “Querida, you are soaking wet.”

I gnaw on my bottom lip as his fingers slide up and drift over my clit. He’s right; I’m so wet I can feel it from the sound of his fingers pushing through my cream. “I need my husband to fuck me,” I moan. His hand stills and I tighten my legs against it, trying to push him further into me. When it doesn’t work, I whimper with disappointment.

“Say that again, mi cielo,” he growls.

“I need my husband to fuck me.”

His hand comes back to my neck. When his words hit me this time, they’re hoarse and full of need. “Bend over and hold onto the bed, mi cielo. This is going to go hard and fast.” I do as he orders, my fingers digging into the rumpled covers on the bed. “Spread your legs and tilt your ass higher, Beth.”

Anticipation runs through me. Once I get my feet planted, he massages my ass, his hands biting into the flesh, then he shakes my ass roughly, pulling the cheeks apart. I feel cool air hitting the wet needy skin of my pussy and I know I’m completely exposed to him.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he groans, and the pleasure in his voice is so thick I can’t find it in me to be embarrassed when I feel my cream slide down my thighs. I gasp when I feel his cock rub against my thigh and the cream found there. “Who does this pussy belong to, Beth?” he asks, his cock now teasing my opening, not going inside yet, but pushing just enough to let me know he’s there.

“You,” I gasp, when all at once the head slips and grates against my clit before he brings it back.

“Who am I, Beth? Say it,” he demands.

“My husband,” I tell him because I know that’s what he wants.

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