Outside the Lines (Sons of Templar MC 2.5)

Every part of my body seemed to turn to jelly at his words, and my panties dampened at the sex in his tone and in his eyes. I didn’t even register the allusion to the fact he’d been holding himself back for a year, I just attacked.

This time his gentle hold wasn’t enough to stop my mouth from hitting his, and he seemed to pause for a split second before returning my furious kiss with an intensity that rivaled the one moments before.

He flipped me on my back, his hard body pressing into mine, almost drowning me in muscle. My legs went around his waist, needing friction, needing his body as close as humanly possible.

He yanked back from my mouth, his eyes clouded over. “You need to tell me right fuckin’ now if we gotta stop, babe. ‘Cause after this moment, I ain’t gonna be able to,” he informed me tightly.

“Only thing I want you to stop doing is talking,” I ordered huskily, needing him inside me, like yesterday. Or more accurately a year ago.

He searched my face for a split second then his mouth went back for another brutal, beautiful assault. His hands running up and down my sides, moving to cup my breasts. I made a little sound in his mouth at the contact.

His body was gone from mine, I was about to protest when his hands went to my cami.

“Arms up,” he ordered.

I complied, watching him through my lashes. He let out a hiss when I unclasped my lacy bra once he’d thrown my cami aside. His reaction to my bare breasts made my already damp panties drenched with need. He pushed me back on the bed and his mouth fastened on my nipple.

I gasped at the feeling, running my hands over his smooth head. His hands moved to my shorts, undoing them quickly, and yanking them off my body, my panties going with them. His attention moved to my clit, I gasped, almost climaxing from the contact of his callused fingers.

“Fuckin’ drenched,” he bit out, eyes never leaving mine.

Hansen stood, and I watched as he divested himself of his jeans, revealing him in all of his magnificent glory. He reached to his bedside table, grabbing a condom and quickly sheathing himself.

The act of him doing that—of watching him while keeping his eyes firmly on me was hands down the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed.

Then he was on top of me, everything seemed to fall away, apart from his body on mine. His eyes keeping me captive. He gently ran his hand over the top of my forehead. “You good baby?” he asked in a tone that juxtaposed the furious need blazing in his eyes.

That moment was one that required brutal honesty. “I’m the best I’ve ever been in my entire life,” I whispered.

His body jolted slightly, his eyes flaring. Then, he was inside me. Filling me. Consuming me. Every stroke that built me up was also a stroke I treasured. The feeling of him inside me, his body pressing into mine. The fact that his eyes stared into me, with that that tenderness that I yearned for from the moment I laid eyes on him. If this were all we’d ever have, I’d cradle that memory until the end of my days. This wasn’t fucking like it was with anyone in the club, this was something else. Something deeper.

He flipped us, so I was on top, straddling him. His hands went to my hips.

“Want to watch you ride me, baby,” he growled. His hand moved to cup my breast.

So I did. I rode him, not slow and gentle like it had been before. Fast and furious and chasing the climax I knew would shatter my world. The whole time, my eyes didn’t leave the face of the man I’d been in love with for a year.

It hit me. Like a ton of bricks, an explosion of fireworks. My entire body shuddered on top of him as I rode the waves of desire. I vaguely registered Hansen flipping us back over while I clutched onto his back, scratching his skin as he prolonged my ecstasy by slamming into me hard and brutal.

He made a sound signifying his own release, his mouth inches from mine.

We stayed frozen, breathing heavily. I searched his face, letting the beauty of the moment sink into my soul. His hand traced my lips lightly.

“That…” he began roughly, “…was the beginning of me being the only man to possess that sweet pussy. The only man who sinks into that tight velvet,” he declared firmly. “That…” he continued, “…was me finally claiming what’s mine.”

I blinked at his words, my heart soaring, but being unable to fathom it. “It’s always been yours,” I whispered, sounding like a lovestruck idiot, but not giving a shit.

He blinked, then moved to claim my mouth.

We didn’t speak for a long while after that.

“Take these,” Hansen commanded, dropping two pills into my hands.

We were standing in his small, but impressive kitchen. Me with wet hair, both sipping coffee. I was wearing one of his tees, which reached almost my knees. He was wearing jeans, the top two buttons undone.

I struggled to move my eyes away from his defined ‘v’ and dark hair peeking out from below.

“Usually, I only take E at raves and dubstep concerts, but okay dude,” I told him seriously, shrugging my shoulders.

He smirked slightly.

I took the pills, washing them down with my coffee.

His hands stroked my spiky hair gently. “You in much pain, baby?” he asked gently.

I still wasn’t used to his gentle words and the fact he was touching me with such tenderness, so it took me a moment to register his question. “Nah, nothing I can’t handle,” I replied honestly.

He gave me a look, then jerked his head to the breakfast bar. “Sit, I’ll make you breakfast.”

He kissed me firmly before patting my behind slightly and turning to his fridge.

I padded wordlessly around the kitchen island and moved to perch on one of his stools. I swiveled to admire the view his sliding doors had of the dry and rolling landscape. Not another house was in sight and it seemed like we were in the middle of nowhere, the only two people left on the planet. I swiveled the chair back to an arguably better view. Hansen’s back, which was not only corded and muscly, but covered in the club’s insignia. I struggled not to drool into my coffee.