Page 88 of Making the King

Our lips slam together, our fingers claw each other like we can’t get close enough.

“Nothing to see here.” Cain chuckles as he walks by, and we both grin against each other’s lips.

“Fuck. I thought I’d lost you.” I admit against her lips, and she squeezes me tighter.

“Nothing on this earth can keep me away from you,” she mumbles back before deepening the kiss.

Our tongues clash with want, the metallic salt of blood mixed in as our bodies stay glued together, and I wish there was no one around right now so I could strip my wife bare and claim her right fucking here.

“They got away.” Munroe pants from nearby, and I break the kiss to glance at Dante and Baz talking with the men.

“How many got away? Do we know?” Dante asks and Stretch answers as he swipes the sweat from his brow.

“There were at least six. Maybe eight. The rest are dead.”

“Did their President get away?” I ask, stepping toward their huddle while I carry Cara. I’m not fucking letting her go. It’s okay, though, because she makes no move to get down, and I feel her gaze on me as I await a response.

“Yeah it looked like they were protecting him as they went. They had a truck, and some motorcycles stashed in the tree line at the back of the yard.” Munroe offers and Dante curses.

“It would have been an end to our MC problem if we had killed them all.”

“Until the next club tries to bid for the territory.” Baz points out and Dante nods.

“You’re right. There’s still a gap there that needs to be filled.”

Turning his eyes to me I give him a nod.

“I’m still prepared to do that. Especially with this one by my side.” I give Cara’s ass a squeeze but then realize it’s hanging out the bottom of that skimpy bit of fabric her mother had her dressed in. “Shit.” I try to cover her and the guys chuckle before Dante tears off his shirt and tosses it at us, and I make quick work of tugging it over her head and helping her into it, covering her up better.

“Does that mean Cara will be your Old Lady or whatever it is a President of an MC calls their woman?” Cain asks and Cara’s eyes go wide.

She’s shaking her head before I can even respond.

“No fucking way am I being an Old Lady. I’m your fucking wife.”

The men laugh and I grin, looking into her fiery gray eyes.

“Of course, Killer. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

She grips my jaw roughly and bares her teeth. “I’m glad we are on the same page.”

I chuckle and try to kiss her, but she pulls back, still glaring.

“Who did that to your face?”

My brows shoot up, and like she’s flipped a switch, I feel the throbbing pain that runs down my face.

“The Reapers’ President.”

I tell her, and her brows knit.

“I’m not sure if I should thank him or sever his dick.”

“What?” I laugh and I watch as her eyes travel the length of the gash on my face. “Why would you thank him?”

“Well, it looks kinda badass.” She grins wickedly and leans in closer, “It’s kinda making me wet.”

I growl low, squeezing her ass again and grinding my hard length between her legs to let her know I’m right there with her.

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