Page 112 of The Fire We Crave

He leans back against the wall of the clubhouse behind him, crosses one foot over the other, and just stares at my pussy intently.

The feeling that I could wither and die from embarrassment lasts for a moment.

But the longer I look at him studying me, the more aroused I become.

The more I need him to touch me.

The more I need pressure and fullness and…

“Please, Smoke,” I beg.

“Good girl,” he says. He steps back to me, gripping my shoulders. “This time, we’re going to come together. But next time I have you on this pool table, you’ll come for me alone, just like you did the day you had this fantasy. Get my cock out.”

I clumsily reach forward and quickly open his belt buckle, button, and zipper. It’s a stretch to push the denim down, but Smoke helps.

“Let ‘em watch me fuck you raw,” he says, lining up his cock with my entrance.

When he pushes inside, I gasp, but then quickly close my mouth.

“Nah-ah,” Smoke says. “Let ‘em hear you, Quinn. Let them know how good I make you feel and how loud you can get when you come.”

He slips his hands around my ass, tugging me right to the edge of the pool table. I try to wrap my legs around his hips and cling to his neck.

“Feel that balance? You want that orgasm, but you don’t want to fall off the table either?”

I nod.

“Good, because that’s all I want you to focus on. Those two things. Not falling off the table and finding a way to come on my cock.”

Smoke doesn’t even look up at anyone around us. He’s utterly immersed in the two of us.

And it’s enough.

He’s ruthless in the way he fucks me. Because of our position, when I look down, I can see the outline of his cock through my skin, where he’s pushing up inside.

It’s quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

And in the safety of his arms, I fall apart.

34

SMOKE

“We need to accept that the Bratva aren’t going anywhere and we’re likely in a lifelong battle with them for this territory,” I say to Butcher as he pours himself a coffee.

If he notices that I’m now carrying a travel mug filled with Quinn’s coffee, he doesn’t say anything.

“Not ready to accept that,” Butcher says. “I’m not ready to concede it’s inevitable.”

I shrug. “Not sure you get a say in it. I shouldn’t have shot Lev Zakharov. I just made the killing of the brother-in-law thing worse.”

Butcher takes a sip of the coffee and winces. “Not sure you shooting him was the cause. Or even the brother-in-law. This had been going on since before the summer. It doesn’t help that they see us as hiding fugitives. They want the money back from Raven’s ex-husband. And, to be fair, it’s not even Raven’s fault. They want this town for their own reasons, for their transport route. We’re simply in the way.”

“Even if we were cowardly enough to move, we can’t just abandon Atom to protect his land and Em’s bar.”

“Or Quinn’s bakery,” Butcher says with a grin. “You and the baker seem pretty close.”

I sip my own coffee and think about what a fucking joy it is to wake up with her in my arms. And what a comfort Bones is when he lies across my feet or curls up on the sofa next to me.

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