Page 16 of Tracked By Hound

“I’m not going to last, kitten,” I warn, rocking so hard into her the bed creaks and the headboard slams against the wall. “Fuck, your pussy is a fucking dream, it’s a fucking miracle I’ve lasted this long.” I brush my lips over hers, our breaths mingling hotly between us as I hammer into her. “Need you to come for me. Want to hear you before I fill you with my cum.”

She flushes at my words, but I am too far gone to admire the beautiful tinge on her cheeks. Or the way her eyes turn glassy when I grind the base of my cock over her clit, thrusting shallowly until she’s sobbing and writhing helplessly under me. “Oh God… Hound… Faster!”

I drive my cock into her, pinning her to the bed as I slam in and out of her in rough thrusts. The wet sound of our flesh meeting fills the room, drowning in our ragged breathing. I bury my face against her neck as I pick up the pace, gripping her thigh as I pound furiously into her, feeling her teeter closer and closer to an orgasm. Her breath catches in my ear and nails claw my back seconds before she explodes.

She orgasms with a scream, and her pussy clenching around my cock is what sends me falling right off the edge with her. The orgasm roars out of me, tearing through my abdomen in rough shudders that threaten to take me under. It sweeps through me in violent waves, turning my thrusts brutal as I bury seed into her.

“Mine!” I growl into her ear as our bodies shudder against each other. “You belong to me.”

“Yes,” she whimpers as her sex clenches and releases around my cock, milking me until I’ve poured everything into her.

Heart, soul, and seed.

Chapter Seven

Chelsea

I wonder what club enforcers usually do on a boring Tuesday afternoon.

I bet they don’t spend it in the bathtub with the girl they sort of kidnapped, with bubbles floating all around the bath. Hound probably has a million things to do, and yet here I am, keeping him to myself. But wrapped in his strong muscles with my body deliciously lax, I can’t find it within myself to feel bad about it.

Is this… Stockholm syndrome?

These feelings I have for a man who is no more than a stranger to me cannot be healthy. Something in me wilted when I thought he didn’t want me. The feeling was so strong and scary for it to be brought about by a man this dangerous. Thoughts of him with other women were crushing to my psyche.

And then he offered me a kernel of hope.“You’re the first woman I’ve brought here, to the clubhouse.” And then another.“You’re the exception.”They kept coming, words that worked to soothe the ache. Words that opened me up like a flower, and all was forgiven.

He kissed me like I was precious, then made love to me like he wanted to swallow me whole.

And now I’m sitting between his legs with my back to his front, taking a bath because he insisted it would help with mysoreness as I try to retrace my steps to when exactly I gave my heart to this dangerous man.

“I can practically see the wheels in your brain turning,” Hound teases, his breath brushing softly against my ear and sending goosebumps licking up my body. “Tell me what’s on your mind, kitten.”

I shift my head and angle it so I’m staring into those steely gray eyes. “Why do you call me that?”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s just… I’ve never heard anyone use it before,” I muse. “Is it my hair?”

He laughs, and there’s that sound again. I can tell he doesn’t make it often, and a part of me wants to stick around longer to hear more of it—to tease it out of him. “It’s not your hair,” he says with a deep chuckle. “You were bold when we first met, pulling out your claws and threatening to call the cops on the guy holding a gun in your living room.”

Right, and was that only yesterday? And now I’m in the bathtub with that very man. I must be out of my goddamned mind.

“What happens if Ransom can’t pay back all the money?” I ask, half terrified that whatever’s happened between us is not strong enough to override his duty to the club. “Will you kill him?”

“No.”

I search his face for any sign that he’s lying, but find none, and that puts me at ease. I turn around to face the front, leaning against his chest. “He and my grandmother are the only family I have left,” I confess. Maybe it’s the water or the bubbles. Or perhaps it’s the strong man behind me, but I find myselfdropping my guard. “Our parents were in a car accident six years ago. I was fourteen and Ransom was twenty-three at the time and had just finished college. He was set to move to LA to work for some big tech company when the accident happened. Our parents didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry.”

My eyes flutter to a close, burrowing into his arms for comfort. “Ransom had to stay here in Chicago and look after me. I was a high school freshman, and Nonna was already in the nursing home. He had to take care of a teen and an elderly woman all on his own.” I’ve always felt sorry that Ransom had to sacrifice his dream, and now that he’s close to living his life without the burden of taking care of me, he gets in trouble with a freaking MC. He hadn’t told me how bad our financial situation had gotten, insisting that I save all the money I made from my retail job, little as the pay may be. “If it comes down to it, don’t hurt my brother. Take me instead.”

“No one will hurt either of you. I promise.”

I’m a fool to trust the words of a man like him, but I do. With my body thrumming with pleasure and heart racing with every thought of him, I allow myself to believe. “What about you?” I ask, choosing to change the topic. “I don’t imagine your parents like what you do.”

Hound stills against me for a second before the tension releases with a sigh. “My parents don’t care about much of anything when it comes to me. Haven’t seen them since I was fifteen.”

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