WAYLON (Ruthless MC 1)

I swallow, and he waits in dead silence with his hands crossed in front of him.

He’s only mentioned his time in the Army in passing, as if his real life didn’t start until he decided to stop taking orders and form the Ruthless Reapers with Hades. But his stance reminds me that he used to be a soldier, willing and trained to wait patiently for things to happen.

Fine. I awkwardly pull my borrowed dress down over my shoulders and let it fall to the ground in a pool around my feet.

“There, are you happy?” I ask.

“Bra and panties too.” He doesn’t answer my question, but his stony expression tells me that no, no, he’s not happy.

I hesitate, and apparently, that's the wrong move.

Instead of waiting for me to follow his command, he comes over and pushes down my panties.

Nothing there, of course. But that doesn't stop him from reaching around to unhook my bra from the back. He takes it off and immediately flips it over to look inside both cups.

And he finds…nothing.

Inwardly, I breathe a sigh of relief that I thought to check the note while I was in the bathroom then flush it down the toilet just in case.

He looks down at the cups, then up at me.

Then he drops the bra to the floor. “I’m sorry, angel.”

Tired…he looks so tired. My chest aches with empathy for him. And zero judgment.

“It’s okay,” I whisper.

He sits down on the edge of the high bed and shakes his head. “It’s not okay. I know it’s not. I don’t trust anybody. Ever. But I want to trust you. I want to trust you like I trust my own gut. I want to give you everything you ever wanted because that’s what you deserve—”

He cuts off when I throw myself into his lap, curling my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

I can’t take it anymore. He’s given me my dream house and the best Thanksgiving ever. I have to tell him the words that have been vibrating in my chest all day.

“Waylon, I love you,” I tell him, laying my head on his shoulder. “I love you so much, and I trust you even more than my own gut. Please know that, no matter what.”

“Angel…” his voice collapses a little. And he buries his head in my neck. “I love you too. I love you more than anything on this earth. You know that, right? I loved you from the start.”

I nod with tears welling in my eyes. I’m too overcome to answer with words. My dangerous biker. My crazy criminal. My Waylon.

I’ve stopped caring if I have Stockholm Syndrome or if any of this makes sense. All I know is what I tell him out loud, “I love you. I love you so much.”

He’s tired, but I reach between our bodies and bring him out, and of course…

Of course, he’s already hard. He stays this way for me, no matter how tired he gets. That’s how crazy and stupid our love is.

I take his cock in my hand and lift up, guiding it toward my center.

He groans when I drag the hood of him between my folds, but reminds us, “Condom.”

He begins to reach into that bottomless jacket he’s wearing, but I stop his hand, bring it to my breast instead. “No! No! I want you, Waylon. I want all of you. Please!”

I sound desperate and needy. But I need him to understand. I need him to understand that I want all of him. His town. His love. His trust. His children. Everything. Everything he has to give.

“Fuck, angel, yes!” he answers, his voice coarse and rough. He cups my ass to lift me up and plunges my pussy down on his cock.

Then he flips me onto my back and starts powering into me with a guttural roar.

It’s always been good. It’s always been good between us. Over the last three months, I’ve had a hard time even recalling that I used to be terrible in bed.

But now I know that wasn’t true. I was saving myself. Not for marriage, not for some arbitrary religion. For him. Only for him.

He calls me angel, but I want to give this devil everything. My heart. My soul.

“Take it all!” I cry out as he fucks me into the bed, shaking it on its hinges.

And he does. He hugs me tight to him again, rocking into me with hard powerful strokes as he grunts again and again, “Love you…Love you…Love you.”

We were good before. But this is next level.

And the orgasm hits me like a train.

I cry out when the climax crashes into me, and I die…I die in his arms and get reborn.

My rebirth pushes him over the edge too.

His hips power into me one last time, and he lets out a strangled shout, beating his fist on the bed next to my head.