No, I set the parameters, which he begrudgingly accepted. Another surprise, which I called him on one night while mellow and sated.
I was tracing the rider on his back as he lay on his stomach. It was a tattoo all the men in the club had, spanning from shoulder to hip. The club insignia, a grim reaper riding a bike on a road of skulls. But his was different, the insignia was shrouded in angel wings that came from the top of his neck, almost protecting the rider. On closer inspection, I saw three names etched into the wings.
Sofia. Camila. Alexis.
“I’m surprised,” I said, trailing my nails down the inked feathers, swallowing my tears at the names on his back.
“That I’m mortal, despite what I can do in the bedroom?” he answered, his voice muffled by the pillow.
I grinned because he couldn’t see my face. “That you’re not fighting for control.”
He rolled around so he pressed me to the mattress in one swift move. My breathing quickened, despite the fact he’d only just finished rocking my world. “In case you didn’t notice, I’ve got control,” he rasped, focusing on the headboard he’d only just uncuffed me from.
Yes, uncuffed me. I’d gone willingly into captivity. Anyone would if they experienced the nirvana of Gabriel’s body ravaging theirs.
“In here,” I agreed, my voice less than a whisper. “But not out there.” I nodded to the door.
His eyes didn’t leave my face. “No one has control out there. I control the things I can, and the things I can’t, I protect.”
I swallowed at his words and managed to find my own. “So you don’t itch to give me a property patch, and it doesn’t piss you off that you can’t make me your little old lady?”
His face hardened, just a smidgeon. “We don’t have property patches, firefly. If we did, you reckon anything would get Gwen to wear one? That bitch takes what she puts on her back seriously. I don’t even think my prez could get a patch on her. Not that he would,” he said, a teasing glint to his eyes. “I also take what I put on my back fuckin’ seriously. Before I put on this leather, my life was fucked. Spiraling, full of demons. So I know the value of the club, what it means to me. What it gave me.” His hand circled my neck. “Since I know the value of where I belong, I know how fuckin’ hard it is to belong to someone. Something. You’re just figuring out how to belong to yourself. I’m willin’ to wait however long it takes for you to figure out you belong to me too. I’m willin’ to accept whatever you can give me, and this.” His hand snaked down my torso, stopping for delightful torture on my nipple and then moving lower. Way lower.
My eyes rolled back, my sensitive flesh exploding from his touch.
“This is a fuck of a lot more. It’s enough.” He kissed me, then hovered above me. “For now,” he warned.
I didn’t get the chance to argue the ‘me belonging to him’ statement because he made sure my mouth stayed busy.
I was soaring. Fucking flying.
High.
Not in the way I was used not. No syringe was needed for this high.
Only him, my new addiction.
“You’re not gonna come yet,” he growled, the veins in his neck pulsing as he pounded into me.
My body was screaming for release, but at the same time it wanted to topple over the edge, it itched to prolong the feeling of hovering just before something magnificent. To grasp onto that ledge and last facet of control before it was all lost and the abyss swallowed me.
So I teetered.
My hands were bound by my own fucking bra. Yes, he’d torn it off and used it to restrain my wrists. They were burning from being held above my head for a prolonged amount of time, but the pain was exquisite. It made everything, the pleasure and the way my body reacted to that pain, so much more intense.
Beautiful and ugly at the same time.
He pressed our foreheads together, bringing me in for a brutal kiss, his lips smashing against mine as he swallowed my screams.
“As much as I hate it,” he growled against my mouth, not stopping his thrusts, “you exposing your beauty to all those fucks.” His eyes met mine. “And I fuckin’ hate it… but I love it.” He surged into me harder and deeper than I thought possible, and I saw stars as he bit into my neck. “I love that those fuckers are goin’ home with only the image of your sweet ass in their minds, burned into their fuckin’ retinas, and I’m the one who gets to hold it.” He squeezed my ass roughly to make his point. “I’m the only one who gets in here.” He paused his motion, filling me up and stopping me from finally tumbling down.