Beyond Reckless (Lost Kings MC 8)

She opens her mouth. Hesitates for a second. “You’re right. Uncle Chuck doesn’t leave one with a favorable impression.” A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I wouldn’t want you to judge me by some ambulance chaser.”

“There’s a difference. Lawyer is what you do. Biker is what I am.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you bothered that he called us lovebirds?”

She tilts her head in an adorable way that makes me want to lean over the table and kiss her.

“What are we, Marcel? Are we friends?”

Can I be friends with girls?

Hope doesn’t count, she’s more like a big sister. Family.

Trinity? Not going there.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. Mariella was the closest I’d had to a platonic friend. We shared a lot of dark secrets.

“I like to think we’re more than friends, Charlotte.”

“Fuck buddies?” she suggests.

I don’t like the sound of that. At all. “No.”

“Then what?”

I’ve been warned about this “talk” that girls inevitably want to have and I don’t find it as troubling as I always thought I would. “What do you want?”

Her gaze darts away. “I don’t know.”

“Where do you want to be?”

She meets my eyes and slides her hands over mine. “Right here with you.”

Now, that answer I like. “You ready to go somewhere else with me?”

“Sure.” She wads up her napkin and tosses it on the plate. While I clear the table and toss everything in the garbage can, she pulls out a small mirror and slicks on some gloss.

When I walk up behind her, she’s busy smiling at her reflection. I lean down and whisper against her ear. “Why bother when it’s going to come off in a few minutes anyway?”

Startled, she jumps and clicks her compact closed. “I was checking my teeth for spinach.” Her eyes narrow. “What’s coming off?”

I cup her cheek and run my thumb over her bottom lip, smearing the sticky gloss. “This.”

If anyone else had the nerve to smudge the gloss I’d so carefully applied, they’d be on the receiving end of a serious bitchfest.

Marcel? I’m too eager to find out how else he wants to remove it to be pissed. We’re in a crowded pizza parlor and I’m desperate to have this man do all sorts of dirty things to me.

It’s almost dark when we step out onto the sidewalk. This early in the summer, the street is jam-packed with locals enjoying the warm city night. Marcel slings his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close in a casual “she’s mine” pose that leaves me uncertain.

“Are you sure you want to be seen with me?”

Marcel’s slow head turn and wide-eyes clearly say, huh?

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question, miss ‘I can’t associate with outlaws?’” he says with a wry twist to his lips.

“I said I was sorry.”

“I’m not mad. Seems pretty damn funny now.”

“I’m thrilled you find me amusing. But seriously. What if one of your brothers sees you with Merlin’s niece?”

“How are they going to know who you are?”

“Oh. True.”

“If you don’t want to be seen in public with me, just say so.” The words are cocky, but there’s also a hard undertone that gives me pause. Did I hurt his feelings? After he so sweetly told me he thinks we’re more than friends or fuck-buddies.

“No.” I slide my arm under his cut around his waist and snuggle into his side, inhaling his summer-forest scent. “I was just worried about you,” I mumble.

“Let’s go back to your place.”

“You’re planning to stick around?”

He focuses his intense stare on me. “Good luck getting rid of me.”

“Causing trouble, Teller?” A deep voice asks from behind us.

Everything about Marcel tenses up. He turns but drops the hostile glare when he comes face to face with the Empire Police officer standing in front of us. “Still getting your kicks from hassling people, Deputy Hollister?”

The cop rolls his eyes. “It’s officer now. What are you up to?” he asks, holding out his hand.

After a second where he lets the officer’s hand hang in the air, he takes it. “How’s Bree?”

The cop’s gaze slides my way. “My fiancée is fine.”

Marcel’s arm tightens around my waist. “Charlotte, Deputy Hollister here was the finest sheriff in my hometown.”

I hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Officer.” Clearly Marcel enjoys calling him Deputy to be annoying and I’m not getting involved in that.

“Likewise.” His gaze darts between us for a few seconds. “Well, you two have a good night.”

“I didn’t know you were friends with the other side,” I joke after the officer’s out of earshot.

“Friends is probably stretching it. We have a healthy respect for each other.”

“You didn’t behave very respectfully.”

He touches his hand to his chest. “That hurts, Charlotte.”

“Bullshit.”

Before I know what he’s doing, he leans down and presses a kiss to my lips. “I love when you call me out.”

Being with Marcel is so simple. It shouldn’t be, but somehow it is.

“Come on, let’s go.”

He takes my hand and we hurry across the street. At the bottom of the stairs, he hesitates, his face screwed into a mask of pain.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he answers quickly.

He finally follows me up the stairs and into my apartment. “How badly were you hurt?” I’m a little ashamed it’s taken me this long to ask about his accident.

“Bad enough.” He cups my cheeks in both hands and presses me back against the door, staring into my eyes. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about with you.”

At first, I’m insulted and I think he senses that because he sighs and steps back. “Being with you, I’m able to forget about it for a little while.”

“Oh.”

His lips meet mine and I sink into the sweet sensation. I breathe him in and hook my fingers in his belt loops, drawing him closer, enjoying every inch of this powerful man against my body.

My heart beats a crazy rhythm as his hands slide down my back to cup my butt. Whatever he wants from me, I want to give him tonight.

Charlotte’s fingers thread through my hair, nails lightly grazing my scalp sending pleasurable tingles through my body. Just like last night, the heat of her touch ignites a fire inside me that I thought I’d lost.

She strokes her tongue against mine, kisses my jaw, my neck. Her hands slide under my shirt, pushing it up so she can press kisses to my chest.

My entire body vibrates with the need to be closer to her.

To be inside her.

I put her back against the door, pinning her, rocking my hips against her.

“Marcel, please.”

Pulling away, I take in her dazed expression. I run my thumb over her bottom lip, still red and wet from our kisses. “Told you that stuff was coming off.”

She laughs and gently pushes me backward. Sidestepping me, she darts down the hall. Pulling off her shirt and tossing it behind her. At her bedroom door, she stops and turns. “Come and get me, or I’ll start without you.”

Fuck if she doesn’t know exactly what to say to fire me up even more.

Our eyes lock and I move to the couch, shrugging out of my cut and setting it down. I pull my T-shirt over my head next and when I drop it on the end of the couch she’s gone.

It’s like this woman’s somehow tapped into the most primal part of me. I’m harder than fucking steel as I hunt her down.

Her place isn’t that big, so I don’t have to go far. I stop in her doorway and find her standing next to her bed in her bra and underwear.

“Gotcha.” I close the door and a jolt of satisfaction hits me when she trembles. “

What if I wanted to undress you slowly?”

She hooks her thumbs under her bra straps, teasing them down her shoulders. “I left something for you.”

As soon as I’m close enough, she hooks her fingers in the waistband of my jeans and pulls me forward. Her hands toy with my belt. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because you’re half-naked in front of me.”

“Not your dick. The belt.”

Brushing her hands away, I undo the buckle. She steps back and bites her lower lip, watching my hands.

“You want something?”

“Your cock. I’m just not sure I can take it again.”

I snort and push her back against the bed. “You’ll take it.” She lands on her butt and stretches out, rolling to her side and propping her head on her hand.

“Make me.”

I glance up, meeting her eyes. “Careful, Charlotte.”

She chuckles and slips her hand down the front of her panties.

“Mine.”

She ignores the warning.

Done messing around, I shove my pants off the rest of the way, kicking them and my shoes to the side. I grab her hand, yanking it away from her pussy. “What’d I tell you? Mine.”

“Just getting ready to take that massive dick again.”

“I’ll get you ready.”

To prove my point, I yank her underwear down her legs. There’s no soft, gentle exploring tonight. I have my mouth on her pussy so fast, she shrieks.

“Quiet.”

“Shit. I can’t.” She moans and tosses her head from side to side. “That’s good.”

She’s still speaking actual words, so she’s not ready yet. I tongue and lick her slick lips and tease her clit until she’s writhing under me. She makes these sexy-as-fuck throaty moaning noises while arching her back off the mattress.

There’s nothing gentle about the way I suck and lap at her clit. It’s rough and desperate. I’m starving and she’s the only thing that can satisfy me.

I slip two fingers inside her, pushing in and out. She moans something close to my name and bucks her hips against me. A few seconds later she comes hard and loud.

“That’s it. Ride my fingers. Told you that was my pussy.”

She blinks and stares at me with a soft, unfocused gaze.

I reach over and grab a condom and throw myself on the bed next to her. “Up.”

She doesn’t bother arguing. She does brush my hands away and leans over to take my cock in her mouth.

“Fuck, Charlotte.”

Kneeling next to me on the bed, she takes me all the way to the back of her throat then slides back up, teasing her tongue over the head of my cock. I bury my hand in her hair, gripping tight, helping her, holding her in place while I thrust up into her hot wet mouth. She sputters but keeps taking it.

“Fuck. I need you on top of me.” I grunt as I pull her away from my dick. Her eyes sear me with heat and need.

I squeeze myself into the condom in record time, urging her up and over me.

“Come on. Get that tight pussy around my cock.”

We both groan as I slide down. “Marcel.”

He grips my hips and my hands curl around his forearms.

“That’s it, Charlotte. Take all of me.”

Still holding me with one hand, he reaches over the side of the bed. I’m enjoying myself too much to pay attention to what he’s fiddling with.

Turns out, it’s his belt. The simple wide strip of black leather with the heavy silver buckle I couldn’t figure out before. I’d been more interested in what was behind the belt to examine it more closely. Maybe I should have.

Another spike of adrenaline bursts through me.

He folds the belt in half and taps my leg. “Get up.”

“I just got on,” I protest.

He flashes his sexy half-smirk. “Ride me in reverse, cowgirl.”

My gaze strays to the belt, anticipating how he plans to use it.

Excited about the possibilities.

I ease up slowly, shivering when he groans. “Stand up. That’s it. Right over top of me.” He taps my ass with the belt. “Come on back down. Get that dick in you.”

I peer at him over my shoulder. “You have a filthy mouth.”

“You seem to enjoy it.” He cracks the belt against my ass and I inhale sharply.

“Come on,” he encourages, grabbing my hip with one hand and guiding me down over his cock. “There you go. Nice and slow.”

This position feels like trying to write with my left hand.

At first.

When I finally figure it out, my breath catches. It’s a unique sensation, hitting me in a different, but still pleasurable way.

“Careful, sweetheart. My dick doesn’t bend that way,” he cautions when I get a little carried away. His hands grip my hips, guiding me where he wants. “There you go.”

“Oh, shit!” I gasp and brace my hands on his shins, working myself up and down.

“Hands on your thighs,” he says, leaving no room for questions or quibbling.

Black leather loops around my middle, pulling tight until my arms are pinned to my side.

Holy shit.

I don’t even know how to process it other than my heart jackhammering and heat racing over my skin.

He makes a sexy sound somewhere between a growl and a grunt, and keeps the belt tight while he pistons up. Whether it’s the new angle or the gentle restraint, the pressure inside me builds fast.

So close.

Sweet relief is just out of my reach. I grind down on him harder. My hands grasp the belt, lifting it and placing it around my neck. For a second the belt tightens.

Marcel stops moving under me.

“Charlotte?”

The belt loosens and whistles through the air, hitting the floor with a clink and a thud.

Easily he bucks me off, throwing me to the mattress. He shoves my legs apart and slips back inside me before I even realize what happened. One of his large hands wraps around my throat, gently squeezing at the sides.

“Fuck.” My eyes close. “Yes.”

“This what you need, Charlotte?” he asks, his voice full of protectiveness and desire. “What you want?”

My answering groan makes him apply more pressure. “Look at me.”

My eyes pop open. He’s staring down with so much intensity. But also so much affection, my heart skips. “You want this?”

“Please.”

He lowers himself, kissing me softly. “Then, it’s my way. So I can watch your face. My hand. So I can feel you,” he whispers against my lips. “Understand?”

“Yes.”

I’m not sure what I’m agreeing to because I’ve never wanted a man’s hand around my neck before. My actions actually scare me.

But Marcel’s in control and I trust him to keep me safe while giving me pleasure.

He loosens his grip on my neck but keeps his hand there in a comforting way as if he knows I’m afraid and he wants to reassure me. He thrusts into me slowly, grinding his pelvis into my clit until my body’s boiling under the pressure of needing to come.

“I—”

“I got you.” He picks up his pace, pumping into me with short, precise strokes, while his fingers slowly tighten around my neck. I fixate on his eyes and slowly come undone. My vision blurring around the edges and intense pleasure pulsing through every part of me.

“Oh, God. Oh, Marcel.”

“Right there with you.” He grunts out each word and his thrusts become wild and frantic. He releases my neck and grabs my waist, holding me the way he needs me. I reach up, curling my hands over his shoulders to hang on tight.

He stills above me. Breathing hard. Eyes squeezed shut. Beautiful in his release.

After a few seconds, he kisses my cheek. “Jesus, woman. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.” He throws himself down on the bed next to me and hooks one arm under me to pull my body closer.

“I can’t catch my breath,”

I mumble against his skin.

That pulls him out of his languid post-sex posture. He sits up, brushing his fingers over my neck. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. I’m breathless from orgasm aftershocks.”

He chuckles and rolls away. “I’ll be right back.”

I flop onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Not really thinking of anything except how good I feel. Content.

It’s just the sex, right?

“You look so serious, Sunshine.” Marcel strides into my room in nothing but boxer briefs.

“Who said you could put those on?” I tease.

He flashes a grin and tickles his fingers over the top of my foot.

“Are you leaving?” I ask.

“Fuck no.” He lands in the bed next to me. “Told you I’d be difficult to get rid of.”

I roll over to face him and he slips one arm behind his head.

“Did I wear you out, stud?”

“Long day. Didn’t get a lot of sleep. This hot girl I know kept me up all night.” His lips quirk as his eyes close.

I’m still wound up so I watch him drift off. My gaze travels over his body. His hard and sculpted arms and torso. There’s enough light for me to explore his ink and without him watching, I take my time. The design on his left arm starts as a black forest and mountain scene with pops of color here and there. Blue sky, green leaves, a black raven with a red rose. I’m more curious about the smaller pieces on the inside of his arm. It almost looks as if the larger design was skillfully drawn around these smaller ones instead of covering them up like some people do with old tattoos.

The first one I’m drawn to is a four-leaf clover with a small crown and a date in the center. “Blake” is written below. I assume the date is either when the two of them met or has something to do with the club. I recognize the dollar sign as the same one on his cut and I guess that has to do with his role as treasurer. There’s a red and black ladybug with a date that I’m pretty sure is his sister’s birthday. Then a red heart with a date that must be his niece’s birthday. Further up there’s a four-leaf clover with a ladybug nestled on one of the leaves. No magical interpretation skills needed to decipher that one. My gaze lands on a set of angel wings and the name Mariella. Another family member? An ex-girlfriend he still pines for?