“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good, next time you doubt I want you, remember feeling my cock pressed against your sweet ass and know the truth was against you just as it was inside you,” he affirmed, pressing his mouth against my neck. “It’s time for you to open your eyes, angel, time for you to take a good long look at who you’re playing with,” he added as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot behind my ear.
I closed my eyes, pushing my ass against him as my hands gripped his hard thighs. My body fell into a trance, one induced by Blackie’s words and for the first time in my adult life, sex wasn’t something I needed to rush to do, a game I needed to play catch up on, it was something I craved. I wanted to explore, I wanted to learn, and I wanted to do it all with Blackie.
“I’m a greedy bastard Lacey, got marks on my arms,” he paused, loosening his arms around me. “Open your eyes and look down,” he ordered.
My eyes fluttered open, and I did as I was told, focusing on the track marks on his forearms that were slightly fading.
“Got marks down in my soul too, all proof just how greedy I am,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around my waist again. The tip of his nose trailed down the side of my neck, pushing away the collar of my shirt and his lips fell over my shoulder.
“And this greedy bastard won’t apologize for taking that sweet cunt of yours. This greedy bastard will forever hold onto that, take that shit proudly to my grave…”
His words trailed off as his teeth sank into my shoulder.
“My Lace…” he murmured against my skin.
I clawed his legs, desperate for more…more words…more of his mouth…just more. His lips glided over the flesh his teeth branded soothing the sting.
“I’m sorry, baby, sorry I didn’t take my time with you. I’m sorry I didn’t prime that pussy before I took it. I’m sorry I didn’t watch you get off, that, I didn’t make it good for you,” he hissed.
“It was good,” I replied quickly.
“Did you get off?” he questioned as his hands dropped from my waist to my thighs, slowly trailing down to my knees before forcing them apart.
I couldn’t speak.
“You’d know if you got off, you’d be licking your lips and clenching your thighs because the memory alone would get you wet,” he feathered my shoulder with kisses before pulling his head back. “Look at me Lace,” he demanded.
He twisted me, lifting my hips, so I sat on his thigh, bringing us face to face, nose to nose.
“So sweet,” he murmured as he took my face in his hands.
“Blackie,” I whispered, my breath ragged as he turned me inside out.
“Goddamn Lace,” he grunted, lifting his hips to push against me. “Like it when you say my name, angel,” he said before he sucked my lower lip between his.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and for the first time in my life I felt like I belonged. I kissed him back, exploring his lips with mine, memorizing the feel, the fit, the way they meshed so perfectly.
Two imperfect people.
Perfectly suited for one another.
His fingers snaked into my hair, dragging them through the long waves until he fisted the ends, pulling my head back and breaking the kiss. I groaned in protest but his hot wet mouth closed over my throat and I forgot all about the loss of his mouth on mine.
“Please,” I begged, as he continued to suck and graze my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair, dragging the rubber band at the base of his neck away and freed his hair from the restraint. It was my turn to tug on the ends until his head lifted and his hooded eyes met mine.
The room grew silent, the only sound was our breaths as we both stilled and continued to stare at one another.
“What?” I whispered.
He opened his mouth to speak when the door opened and Riggs strode in carrying a pizza box.
“Ah, fuck!” He groaned. “Why? Why am I the only one who walks in on this shit!?” He grunted, tossing the pizza box onto the bed before pointing to us. “You two got some sort of death wish!”
“Give us a minute, Riggs,” Blackie ground out.
He rolled his eyes.
“Join an M.C. they said,” he muttered, turning around. “It’ll be fun they said,” he continued as he slammed the door behind him.
I stared at the closed door for a moment, too afraid to turn around and look at Blackie, not ready to leave the perfect bubble we were secluded in.
“Lacey,” he started.
“This is the part where you send me away,” I said, swallowing against the lump in my throat before I found the courage to turn around and meet his gaze.
Yeah.
Here it comes.
“You’re better off away,” he stated. “You’re too good for this life, girl,” he said huskily.
“That’s a poor attempt at softening the blow of rejection,” I stammered, sliding off his lap.
“It’s not rejection,” he said.