Never Love an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

“Come with me, Parker. Please!” It was all I could force out before everything below my waist convulsed.

We rocked and came together, just like that, grunting in total heat. His cock slammed into me, deeper than before, and he held it there while he swelled.

Hot, potent come pumped into me, scorching me from the inside out, and wiping away what was left of my sanity. I let go and became a mess of pure pleasure, rocking on his erupting length, coming together in one sweet, frantic rhythm.

He kissed me again and slowly pulled away. I felt his seed running down my leg. Something about that made me smile, just being a vessel for this wild man.

“Shower?” I asked, stepping out of my fallen clothes.

“Sure, babe, and I'm coming with you. We'll clean up together. Then I'm keeping you full of me the whole damned day, overflowing, whether you like it or not.”

I smiled and took his hand. “Lucky for you, I think I love it.”

By mid-day, I thought I'd gone to paradise. We walked deep into the forest, bright and magical in all its hues.

I scrounged up what I could find in his fridge for a picnic, mostly sandwiches and beer. We talked and laughed, hiking into the wild, one with nature and each other.

I know how sappy that sounds. But I was love-struck, opening my heart for the first time as a brand new woman. I never thought I'd meet such a deliciously handsome, warrior like him, a man who made me feel completely secure, whether I was on his bike or in his bed.

We stopped next to a small creek and sat on giant boulders to eat our lunch. Skin sucked down his beer and passed me a canteen of water, pulling me into his lap as he did.

His dark brown eyes captured me and drew me in. I couldn't resist his face. My fingers reached up and traced the scar going up his perfectly square jaw.

“How'd you get this?” I asked, wondering if I should bite my tongue as soon as the words were out.

“Knife fight in Sturgis, not long after I'd earned my bottom rocker.” He smiled. “Trust me, the motherfuckers had it coming. I scarred their asses ten times as bad as what they did to me. I got off lucky – a couple inches higher and they'd have taken out my eye.”

Frowning, I shook my head. “Don't you ever get tired of it? The constant danger and fighting, I mean?”

He laughed. Deep, rich baritone that seemed to shake the whole forest. His feral edge should've disturbed me, but truly, it didn't do anything but make my nipples tighten and my * tingle.

“Babe, this club's what I live for. It's the only life I've ever known, the only one that makes sense to me.”

“But you're a smart man,” I mused, running my fingers along his stubble. “You're like the club's accountant, aren't you? You could do so much more with your life.”

I tapped the small TREASURER tag underneath his name patch. Skin nodded.

“Yeah, the boys would be lost without me. Lucky for them, I know how to handle the IRS just like the shitheads who disrespect our colors. There's nowhere I'd rather be than behind my bike or drinking with my brothers.”

He paused, deep in thought, and then snorted. “Well, fuck, maybe I can add one more place to the list...”

“Yeah? Where's that?”

His hand ran through my hair, took my locks in a fist, and pulled them tight. “In you, babe. And I'm not just talking about that sweet * I'm about to fuck right here. I'm talking about having you with me on the open road, having you in my room, my cabin, my bed. Fuck. I gotta get you out of your parents' place the second we get back. I can't stand having you anywhere else. You belong with me, babe. Here's the proof.”

His hand flowed down my neck and stopped near my new tattoo. It was still a little sore, but I didn't care. I smiled, overwhelmed with new passion, and put my lips on his.

Skin never did anything half way. He kept his word, flipping me around on his lap. His hands worked my jeans and panties down, and he took me right there, sitting on the rocks, squeezing my breasts through my shirt while he fucked up into me.

The closest I'd ever come to something like this was my last night as the old Megan Wilder, skinny dipping with the girls and the dopey rich guys.

Now, I was being pinned down and fucked in front of the universe.

Skin grunted, his pleasure rising, pushing his lips against my throat. I moaned, trying to keep it quiet, and failing a few seconds later.

His free hand reached for my clit, found it, and applied his expert pressure as his thrusts quickened. Blood rushed to my head before it arced lower. The distant foaming creek became a roar in my ears, mixed with his curses, his growls, his commands.

“You better fucking squirt for me, woman. If I pull outta you and my balls aren't soaked, we're not going anywhere 'til you do. Come on, baby girl. I know you can do it. Scream with the birds and the bees out here when you come on my cock.”

Oh, God. Like I could resist.

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