My hand traced the length of his body, a thrill shooting through me as I found him—hard, brutal, unyielding. The words escaped me, a desperate whisper against his ear: “I need you inside me.”
August rolled, his weight pressing down, a heavy promise between my spread legs. The blunt heat of his cock pressed against my clitoris, an exquisite torment. He rubbed it between my lips deliberately, provocatively, his head pressing against my entrance, teasing the edge of unbearable pleasure. Then, agonizingly slowly, inch by inch, he entered me. His mouth found mine, a hungry, possessive kiss as I arched upwards, desperate for the full, brutal invasion. But he relished the torment, drawing back, inch by agonizing inch, leaving me hanging on the precipice, pleading with him to fill the aching emptiness. My hips bucked, frantic. Finally, his balls pressed against my ass, and I cried out, a mixture of pain and ecstasy. He withdrew deliberately, cruelly, leaving me hollowed, desperate, with only the tip of his cock still inside me. “Please,” I choked out, my voice ragged. “Don’t tease me. Fuck me.”
The air thickened with August’s scent—sweat, musk, and something intoxicatingly masculine that sent a shiver down my spine. His pace quickened, each thrust a brutal violation and exquisite pleasure all at once. My moans were raw, guttural, a desperate plea lost in the rising tide of sensation. Legs wrapped around his back, I tried to dictate the rhythm, but he was a storm, untamable. The frustration of relinquishing control was a delicious agony; letting go felt like surrendering to gravity, to fate itself. He was a sculptor, molding me with his precise movements—speed, depth, angle, each a deliberate choice, each a knife twisting in my core.Fuck me, I silently screamed, the words lost in the hurricane of feeling.
August sensed my submission, a flicker of something dark and exhilarating in his eyes. The rhythm intensified—faster, harder, deeper. I relinquished my will, my senses consumed by the raw, throbbing heat. The taste of my own sweat was thick on my tongue, the slickness between us a blinding sheen under the dim light.
His knees slammed under mine, lifting my hips, the shift a sudden, breathtaking alteration. The angle changed, his cock a brutal piston, finding my G-spot with each relentless thrust. This was new, a secret pressure building, a volcano threatening to erupt. It was exquisite torture. Then, his thumb found my clit, a counterpoint to the brutal invasion, a rhythmic caress that turned the exquisite torture into pure, unadulterated bliss. Pounding, that was the only word for it. He was pounding me into oblivion. I dug my fingers into his thighs, desperate to pull him closer, to consume him utterly. My vision swam, red blurring at the edges as I screamed, a primal sound ripped from my soul. The scream lasted an eternity until the release came, shattering me, leaving me weak and trembling.
He moved his thumb, his grip firm on my hip as he drove himself into me, a final, desperate plunge to the point of pain. His release was a hot, searing explosion deep inside. A second scream ripped from my throat as I felt his power surge through me. My muscles clenched, holding him captive, wanting to keep that exquisite devastation locked within me. But the storm subsided, leaving him collapsing next to me, his body heavy with exhaustion. We lay gasping, sweat slick on our skin. The world was a hazy blur, my consciousness drifting. And then, his hand, a gentle weight on my swollen belly, felt the flutter of the baby’s kick—a tiny, defiant heartbeat against the aftermath of our storm.
“I missed so much,” he murmured as he leaned forward and placed a reverent kiss on my stomach. I closed my eyes and prayed I never woke up from this wonderful dream.
Chapter Twenty-One
Diana
I should have known it was too good to be true because the next morning, Shame called to tell us that George knew I was in Ann Arbor.
August had inadvertently led whomever George sent, straight to me.
This time, there was zero chance to pack.
After a frantic and heartbreaking goodbye, I watched from my rearview mirror as August stood frozen with worry in front of my dorm room as I drove away. Something in my gut told me that would be the last time I ever saw August. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew this move would be different. That everything would change. I decided that there would be no more colleges, no more dorm rooms. I needed to focus on my baby and ensuring that whoever wanted me never found me. Tired and alone, I just wanted to have my baby and live in peace. If peace existed for someone like me.
I had thought about going home to Texas and letting the chips fall where they may, but I refused to take the chance my family would seek retribution. It was bad enough that I had fallen in love with a brother in the Soulless Sinners; it was altogether different that he knocked me up. I could explain one, but not the other.
For a few weeks, I zig-zagged around the country, only stopping long enough so I could sleep in a bed at night. Don’t get me wrong, I could have slept in my car, but when my belly gotbigger by the day, a girl really needed a bed to stretch out in. I didn’t know where I was going, and I no longer cared.
The fight had finally gone out of me.
I was done.
All that mattered now was finding somewhere where I could disappear and raise my baby.
As I drove, my mind raced with worry and fear. I had no plan, no real destination, and a very prominent baby bump that seemed to grow more noticeable with each passing minute. I felt like a sitting duck, vulnerable and exposed, knowing that at any moment, George Stone could catch up with me. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of my unborn child and the life I wanted to build for us. I needed to be strong, for both our sakes. So, I kept driving, taking back roads and avoiding any major cities, until one day, my car sputtered and died near a small town, just north of San Francisco, California. It was then that I realized my wandering days were over. This was where I would make my stand and build a new life for me and my baby.
I should have known it wasn’t going to work out that way.
Walking into a small diner, I looked around when a beautiful woman smiled at me. “You look lost, honey. Can I help you find something?”
“My car broke down just outside of town. Is there a tow company I can call?”
“Clara,” the beautiful woman shouted as a cute brunette woman walked through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. “Call over to Golden Salvage and have one of the boys bring the wrecker. This young momma’s car broke down.”
“Yeah, sure, Caroline. No problem.” She nodded, reaching for a phone.
“Come on over here and sit. You shouldn’t be walking around in your condition, anyway. My name is Caroline Doherty, and yours?”
“Eve Lyons,” I said, taking a seat at the small table.
“I hear a Southern accent. Texas, right? I’m originally from Tennessee.”
I nodded but didn’t elaborate when a squad car pulled in front of the diner. I said nothing as I watched a tall man slip out of the car and walk into the diner, taking his hat off as he entered and walking right over to the beautiful woman and quickly kissing her cheek. “Brian Conners, I would like you to meet Eve Lyons. Her car broke down just outside of town.”
The sheriff frowned. “You’re traveling alone in your condition?”
“Not by choice,” I muttered.