Rage (A Thunder Gypsies MC Outlaw Biker Romance) by Christa Wick Read Free Book Online Page B

Thunder Valley.
    In mute apology, I ran my fingers softly against the fading red on his cheek. I trailed them over his chin until I reached the tattoo on his neck. A winged skull covered his Adam’s apple. Lincoln and his dead brother, Boone, had a similar tattoo. They had gotten it after their father was sent away.
    Instead of a tuxedo for prom, he had received this mark of loss, this twisted sign that freedom came only in death.
    “Baby...” He shifted and I felt the head of his erection pushing at my gate. “I wanted to throw you on my bike the first time I saw you working at Freya’s.”
    He started to push in, my body yielding with mutual need.
    “Take you home and whip your daddy’s ass for letting you work at a bar full of bikers and drug dealers.”
    I blinked, more tears wetting my face and obscuring my vision. I rubbed at my eyes. I wanted to watch his face, didn’t want to miss seeing the emotion I could hear in his voice. Straining my head up, I kissed him as I pressed my thighs against the solid muscles of his ass. My arms tangled around his shoulders.
    “We’re here now,” I whispered, desperate for the fat crown to slip all the way inside me. I was exposed, opened as wide as I could go but he had to be the one to sink into me, to surrender.
    His lips skimmed across my cheek to find my mouth. “I won’t fuck you, Avery.”
    It took me a second to realize what he was saying. He hadn’t retreated, I could still feel just the tip of the broad head wedging me open. But he wanted me to know exactly what this was between us -- or what he thought it was.
    “Not fucking,” I agreed and squeezed his shoulders. “I don’t want you to fuck me, either. But I do want you in me, Callan. I want to be filled by--”
    He pushed in and I thought my chest would explode. I gave a soft cry, not of pain although it hurt a little to have him stretching me so suddenly. The cry was an acknowledgement of the word I couldn’t say and that he didn’t want to hear just yet.
    Callan mashed his lips against mine, robbing me of any chance of speech. His hips began to move, the head of his cock dragging heavily through me. I gasped for air, greedy for a lungful but accepting the small sip of oxygen he allowed me before the kiss continued, his tongue sweeping through my mouth with the same hard, questing nature of his cock. The bed started to creak as Callan’s pace increased. I could feel my climax building as my muscles knotted around the shaft and fat head.
    “Yes...” My nails scratched lines down his back and my vision began to collapse, a grey circle crowding its edges. “Yes, Callan...”
    “No,” he teased, slowing down. Remaining inside me, he raised his torso, pushed his legs under mine and settled onto his heels. His hands wrapped around my thighs to hold me open as he stared down at where his cock disappeared into my pussy.
    “You’re going to have a hard time riding tomorrow, baby girl.” He chewed at his bottom lip as he slowly fucked back and forth inside me. The big head bullied my flesh as it dipped, retreated then slammed back in to batter the opening of my cervix. Slow again, his hips rolling to move a gentler circle inside me.
    He hit a spot, the swollen tip almost backed entirely out of me, and I cried out.
    “There?” He rasped.
    I couldn’t speak, couldn’t open my eyes to look at him in approval, could only grit my teeth and nod like a fiend.
    A small roll, a little dip. I sucked air in, refusing to release a single molecule of it until I climaxed. I would need it to scream his name.
    His hand left my leg to tease at my clit. He teased me inside and out, the pleasure almost enough to turn my flesh inside out. My nails clawed at the bedspread. Another breath in. I could feel my face purpling.
    His fingers moved a little faster, up and down my clit while the head of his cock battered a small circle just inside me, keeping the mouth of my cunt stretched as wide as it would go. I jerked,