Page 19 of Devil's Haunting
Fuck, this man, and his mouth.
When I glance down at it, so sinfully pouty and so damn dirty, he slams it down against mine and steals my breath with a kiss. Our tongues tangle as our hips rock, every movement pushing us closer to oblivion.
Tripp reaches between us, his fingers finding my clit and he pinches. I scream into his mouth, the walls of my pussy clamping down around his cock as my arousal floods between us. He growls against my lips, never losing contact as he pummels his huge cock into me.
A few thrusts later, he buries himself as deep inside of me as possible and grunts out my name. I can feel every jet of his cum painting the inside of my walls. I’ve never felt anything so damn right.
“There’s no going back now, my little Mischief-maker,” he rasps against my lips. “You’re mine and I’m never letting you go.”
Before I can argue, or accept his claim, he’s kissing me again and my body lights up from the inside out. I’ve barely even started to come down from my orgasm and the sensation of his cum filling me, but I can feel pleasure lifting me up again. This man is otherworldly.
I have a feeling we won’t be sleeping for a long time and I’m looking forward to it. I need him and he’s more than willing to make my every desire come true.
The sensation of him starting to move slowly in and out of me, his cock still hard, has me gasping and my heels digging into his ass. Those sinful lips of his curl up into a smirk before he pulls away from me slightly.
“That’s right, Laiken,” he murmurs, his eyes so dark they’re practically black, “I’m not done with you yet.” His voice drops, the warning clear, “I’ll never be done with you.”
My heart pounds with the truth in his words. What he doesn’t know, what I’m almost afraid to admit to even myself is that I’ll never be done with him either.
CHAPTER 8
HAMMER
A few days after claiming my woman, I’m looking at her from my seat at the bar while she’s sitting with the other Old Ladies in the clubhouse. Her head is thrown back as she’s laughing at something Wrenley has said. She fits right in, which didn’t come as a surprise to me in the least.
“Have you ordered her cut yet?” Lucifer, my Prez, asks from his spot next to me. Even though I know he’s talking to me, his eyes are locked on his woman, Cherise, like they haven’t been together for decades.
“Not yet,” I tell him out of the side of my mouth.
“Get with Hacker and he’ll get you sorted.”
Before I can tell him that I was already planning on it, Hacker, our resident tech guy, and Secretary, leans against the bar next to me with a huge fucking grin on his face full of the promiseof being teased mercilessly. “I’m already all over it, Prez,” he promises.
Tack, our Sergeant at Arms, comes up on the other side of Lucifer with his eyes narrowed as he looks between me and my woman. “We thought you weren’t spending as much time around the clubhouse because of the job, but it was her, wasn’t it?”
I shrug one shoulder while taking a long swig of my beer. “Both considering I wouldn’t have met Laiken if it weren’t for the job.”
Tack lets out a low whistle and tilts his beer in my woman’s direction. “The huge renovation is hers?”
I nod once as I watch my woman lean closer to Emery, Driller’s woman and a tattoo artist at the club’s shop, before she motions toward her ribs, her lips and hands moving rapidly which is a clear sign that she’s excited about whatever she’s talking about.
If she’s on the hunt for more ink, Emery is the right person to talk to. There’s no fucking way I’d allow Driller to tattoo her. No fucking way.
“Looks like she fits right in,” Tack muses.
Prodigal grunts as he comes over to the bar along with Apostle from the pool tables where they have just finished a game. “Of course she fits in,” he huffs. “Like any of us would find the other half of our self and they wouldn’t fit in? That would be fucking ridiculous. The most I could see happening is it would take a little time because they’re timid or need to deal with some trauma, but nothing more drastic than that.”
“Just a little trauma,” Apostle taunts under his breath.
The mocking tone of his voice has all of us cracking up as Prodigal reaches over and smacks the back of his head. I glance their way to find the club’s enforcer glaring at our VP, but we all know that is as far as it’ll go.
“Glad you brought her by for a night at the clubhouse,” Apostle grunts even as he continues to reduce Prodigal to ash with his gaze.
“Told you I would,” I shoot back at him.
“How’s the reno going?” Lucifer’s question brings whatever bullshit Apostle was thinking of slinging back my direction to an end. “Heard it’s a big job.”
“Right now, it’s all demo and finding out how deep all the problems go.” I sigh, “I’ll be honest, there are some good bones there and a lot of charm, but there’s something creepy as fuck about the house and a lot of strange shit keeps happening.”
