Blood & Bones - Rev (Blood Fury MC 8)

“Wrap ain’t lubed. Do I need to use spit, or you soaked for me?”

“Find out for yourself.”

He didn’t even need to check. After hearing her husky demand, he knew.

“You like bein’ out here, bent over, your ass and pussy tipped up for anyone to see it if they walked by? That get you excited? Or is it ‘cause of me?”

“You… No. Both. Mostly you. Normally the risk would be hot but I’m more worried about you getting caught breaking a rule and paying that price.”

“I was born a sinner, babe. I was born to break rules.”

He shuffled closer, pulled her thong to the side and her ass cheeks apart, and slid the latex-covered tip of his dick from the top of her crease all the way down.

When he pressed it against her clit, she moaned and pressed back. “Fuck me.”

He planned on it, but on his timetable, not hers. He dragged the head of his cock up through her folds and all the way back to her anus. He couldn’t see it in the dark, but it puckered even tighter at the slight pressure he put against it.

He wouldn’t take her there. Not now, not without lube, not without anywhere to clean up afterward, but he definitely put it on his to-do list for a later date.

That day at the garage when Warren showed up to finish the job he’d failed at—killing her—he had bragged about taking her ass. Whether he actually did or not, Rev didn’t know and he wasn’t fucking asking because he also didn’t want to know if it was true. He didn’t want to imagine that motherfucker touching her at all.

His voice cracked slightly when he put even more pressure there and asked, “Will you let me?”

“Is it yours?” Her question came out on a shuddered breath.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s mine. All fuckin’ mine.”

He drew the throbbing head back down, the heat and slickness of her pussy pulling him deeper into the spell he was caught in.

He nudged the crown between those hot folds and hesitated because he needed to hear it one more time. He needed to make sure he heard it correctly when she said it earlier. He needed to know she was worth the risk. That she was worth fighting for because she was willing to fight for them, too. “Tell me again…Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

He slid inside her until he couldn’t go any further and paused to savor the wet heat and the tiny pulses squeezing his dick. Between that and her words, he had to take a moment and a deep breath to gather his control.

She was so damn wet, he slid easily in and out of her, taking his time, taking full strokes from rim to root, keeping a tight grip on his control. Because what he wanted to do and what he was actually doing were two different things.

He had the crazy urge to pull out, rip the wrap off and come inside her. Instead, as he began to move, he pretended he wasn’t wearing one. That he was bare and nothing was between them.

The thought of that almost drove him to lose his shit as much as her saying she belonged to him. The need to mark her as his was a base instinct he couldn’t shake. Almost as if, if he did it, all other men would automatically be warned off. The same as if she wore his cut.

Selfish. Foolish. But true.

He grimaced as he dug his fingers into her left hip to hold her in place while using the thumb on his right hand to tease her little, tight hole. It was so damn tempting.

The way her hips were pinned to the fender, he couldn’t access her clit so easily. So, he pulled out—doing his damnedest not to rip off the wrap—turned her over, wrapped her legs around his waist and jerked her to him until her ass was perched on the edge of the fender.

Then he drove deep inside her again. This time he could see her face, her expression, even in the moonlight. It was goddamn beautiful every time he pumped into her and every time he pulled out until only the very rim of his dick remained inside her.

Her fingers dug into his bare ass trying to pull him closer, even though it was impossible.

“Who do you belong to?” he growled.

“You.”

“And who else?”

“No one.” Not even a fucking hesitation.

He pulled her legs even tighter around him and leaned over, brushing his thumbs over the hard nipples punching through her shirt. He licked up her neck that was arched and vulnerable, brushed his lips along her jawline, before taking her mouth.

Claiming it like he’d claimed her. As he powered up and into her, as he kissed her, he was taking what was his. What would always be his.