Page 210 of Dagger in the Sea

I believed him.

He pulled out of me slowly and leaned over me. His mouth hovered over mine for a second, his breath warm on my skin while my fingers lingered on the side of his face. His lips nuzzled mine gently, then he tilted his head the other way and kissed me again, very slowly. His mouth pulled away just a bit, then descended once more, even softer, relishing every part of my lips. His tongue finally found mine, but then he trapped my bottom lip in his teeth.

“Oh—”

“You good for another go?”

“Hmm.” I rubbed the back of one of his long legs with my foot and savored the sensation of his body pressed against mine.

“That a yes or a no?” His warm mouth nuzzled my throat, his tongue flicked at my skin.

“Yes, yes,” I said, and he only chuckled. The sound of his subdued laughter deep in his chest only turned me on more without a trace of shame.

“Let me get rid of this condom first.” Miller pushed himself up off the bed. I sighed and stretched out. He licked my navel, and I laughed. He peeled the used rubber off himself and tossed it in the wastebasket between the bed and the table and quickly found another packet ripping it open. A very motivating sound in my current state.

“Let me do it,” I said. I suddenly needed to touch his hardness, to feel it, to feel him. I sat up. Miller’s face was partly visible in the shadows. He pressed the condom into my unsteady hand.

My fingers skimmed over his tense abs and wrapped around his cock. It was thick, warm, and slick with his release. My fingers stroked its hard length, and I bent over and licked around the smooth crown. I took his thickness in my mouth and sucked slowly from base to tip. Miller’s fingers dug through my hair, and he raised his hips higher, hissing in air. My body jerked at the illicit sound.

“Babe. . . oh, shit. . . wait,” he murmured. “I want to fuck you now, want to come inside you.” His fingers found a nipple and squeezed, then released it just as quickly, a blaze of heat spiking through me. I slid the condom over his shaft and smoothed it firmly down his length.

His hand squeezed my shoulder, then he pushed me back against the mattress and my eyes lifted to his searing gaze. There was hunger in those dark orbs and a steely ruthlessness. No mercy. His mouth sank between my legs, and I let out a deep moan.

He took his sweet time.

“Miller!”

My back arched off the bed. He immediately flipped me onto my knees, raising my hips, and rubbed his hard length between my ass cheeks. His cock slid down, teasing my needy, grateful center. My breath snagged, my pulse jammed.

“Hold on, Grace.”

My fingers curled into the tangle of sheets, and he drove inside me.

* * *

My eyes cameunglued in the haze of a pale halo of light around the dark curtains of the single window in the room. I was pinned to the bed by an enormous weight, and the tingling in my limbs prickled. My insides were sore, and my skin smelled of sweat and musk. And sex.

Now it came back to me. Lots of sex.

I moved in small increments, and a still-asleep Miller finally rolled off me with a slight moan and settled on his back. I blinked at the sight of a large tattoo of a great eagle in profile. The eagle’s wings were spread across Miller’s shoulder and down his chest. I raised myself up on my elbow to get a better look. I never got to see it last night as we never turned on the lights. My fingers traced the outline of the majestic creature emblazoned across his tawny skin. One large wing pointed down, the other wing pointed up, and its end reached around the back of his neck. The image was rather elegant, dignified.

Miller’s hand fluttered across his chest in response to my tickling touch. I bit my lower lip to suppress the giggle that rose in my throat. He let out a heavy sigh and twisted onto his stomach.

And then I saw it.

Ripples of pain tore through my gut.

It had to be an illusion. A cosmic joke.

But it wasn’t.

My throat constricted. That ancient, wild thing inside me shifted and cut loose. That primitive beast that had taken me years to leash and constrain shimmered before me again in all its hideous glory.

No. No. NO.

Tattooed on Miller’s back was the logo that had been forever burned into my brain, branded on my heart, and scorched onto my soul from a very young age. I struggled for air. My bleary eyes took in the familiar lines of the skull with one eye socket enlarged, and a great star glowing its fiendish light from its blackened hollow. The leering skull was framed by that indelible name.

The One-Eyed Jacks Motorcycle Club

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