Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC 2)

Brock must have read the silent change in my body because his hand thrust into my hair and he yanked my mouth onto his. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t loving. It was raw and it took everything from me.

He lifted me up and roughly threw me on his unmade bed. The carnal, animalistic look in his eyes excited me. It had been weeks since we had last been together and all I could think about was getting him inside me. Evidently he had the same idea, because as he leaned over me his hands went to the middle of my shirtdress and ripped it off me. I barley registered the buttons flying off and scattering everywhere. All I could think of was Brock’s mouth, which had settled on my breast and was sucking my nipple over the lace of my bra. He yanked the cup down to lightly brush his teeth over my peak, the mix of pain and pleasure nearly sending me over the edge. Rough hands plunged into my panties and I cried out as he rubbed me.

“Fuckin’ drenched,” he growled.

I whimpered as his hand rubbed in circles and his mouth worked my breast. Without warning an orgasm shattered me and Brock’s mouth was on mine, silencing my scream.

I vaguely registered him pulling his jeans off but I was in a sort of dream. My focus sharpened as he plunged into me, filling my sensitive flesh. I moaned as he settled on top of me, moving hard and fast. He gripped my neck.

Something changed in his eyes and he stopped, turning me around so he could plunge into me from behind. The new position meant he could thrust into me deeper and it was so intense it bordered on pain. I felt him lean over me, pushing into me hard and slow.

“This is us, baby,” he growled in my ear. I moaned as he flexed his hips and thrust into me. “We’re real—we’re not hearts or fucking flowers. It’s you and me and it’s raw and magnificent.”

I whimpered as he pounded relentlessly. But I met him thrust for thrust, desperate for it.

He leaned back up, fingertips biting into my ass. “You are fucking perfect for me, baby. All gloss on the outside but a dirty bitch who likes my cock hard from behind on the inside,” he growled, moving faster.

I felt myself build at his rough words and exquisite friction. “You’re mine,” he grunted. “Your cunt’s mine,” he added, clutching my hair and pulling it slightly.

I shattered at his words combined with the small eruption of pain that came from his hand in my hair. I felt him jerk inside me as my muscles milked his release.

I collapsed on the bed as he gently pulled out of me, feeling delicate but sated. Brock pulled me up gently, gathering me in his arms. We lay like that for a second, breathing heavily. Brock kissed me on the head.

“Go clean up, baby, then we’ll sleep,” he commanded softly. I was too mellow from my orgasms to argue. I just nodded meekly, wandered to the bathroom, did as he said and curled up with him in bed. With his strong arms around me I relaxed.

“You’re still in trouble tomorrow,” I murmured sleepily.

Brock’s arms tightened. “Baby, I’m in trouble for the rest of my life.”

The words didn’t sink in as I fell asleep.

I woke up with only a slight hangover but feeling happy and warm. Warm because of the familiar muscled tattooed arms around me. Happy because of the familiar muscled tattooed arms around me. I felt tender between my legs, a reminder of the mind blowing sex from the night before. I snuggled into the iron clad chest I was currently using as a pillow, my leg thrown over his thighs. Then the events pre-sex rushed into my mind. I stiffened.

“Fuck,” a gravelly voice muttered.

The arms around me tightened and I was pulled up Brock’s body. Before I could utter a word he pressed his mouth against mine. Groggy from sleep, and still not able to get sufficiently pissed, I relaxed into the kiss, letting it set me on fire.

The moment his mouth released mine my temper came back. “What was that?” I snipped.

“I wanted to kiss you before we started arguing,” Brock declared, arms still around me.

I struggled out of his embrace and clambered off the bed. I was aware of my nakedness as I searched the messy room for my seriously under packed bag. I spotted it in the corner, picking it up.

Thank god Brock’s room had an attached bathroom. I would have climbed out the window rather than face the prospect of communal showers. I would need a penicillin shot after using his facilities as it was.

“No screaming or swearing this morning, Sparky?” Brock teased. “Maybe I fucked the angry out of you. I didn’t think that would be possible.”

I glared over my shoulder at him. “I’m not speaking to you.”

I tried my hardest to peel my eyes away quickly from the vision of him in bed but I couldn’t. I would have to be a robot, or my mother to not appreciate what my eyes were feasting on. He was lying in bed, the sheet at his waist covering his impressive manhood. Luckily his six pack was on display, complete with that delicious V. His muscled arms were clasped behind his head, his hair messy and unbound. His blue eyes were devouring me, a hungry look not matching his teasing tone. I gulped as I saw his hard on tenting the sheet at his waist.

I snapped my eyes away before I forgot every reason why I was angry and rushed into the bathroom. I hopped in the thankfully clean shower and let the hot water melt away some tension. It didn’t work with the sexual tension. I was considering taking care of that myself when the shower curtain opened and Brock’s huge body took up the rest of the stall.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

Brock frowned at me. “We’re not arguing yet.”