Fill me with our babies.
My eyes roll back, the old leather creaking under my young fingers, feeling his fingers tighten on my hips as he starts to pound me.
Harder, thicker.
Fuller.
That thing he did with his tongue. Those same hands and fingers?
It’s nothing compared to what happens when he finds my new magic spot.
Our new sweet spot reached best from behind, and one I know brings us both close so quickly.
But so worth it.
Grinding back against Thorn, I grunt and he groans.
Then he grunts and I groan louder.
Feeling him thicken inside me is too much and before we both know it, we shatter, sharing our first climax together.
His white heat pulsing inside me as I quiver on his hardness.
The two of us shuddering and gasping. Gripping and moaning some more until there’s nothing left.
Nothing but the need to just hold one another.
Thorn guides my shaking frame to the couch, with his huge body covering me like a cocoon.
A soft warm blanket is draped over us both, he the big spoon.
Me the little spoon.
This is how it’s gonna be from now on.
No words, just this feeling.
Once we both can breathe again, once I feel his heart rate slow to a definite thud against my back as he holds me, I remember the tray.
The coffee going cold.
“You didn’t touch your meal, Thorn,” I murmur. Hearing him growl into my neck in reply.
“Oh, I think I just did, baby. And a whole lot more too…”
Chapter Twelve
Thorn
She’s finally mine.
All of two days now, but it already feels like an age.
But now she truly is mine.
And I’m hers.
I knew she was mine from the moment I saw her. That first second I was her ride.
Not out of Valor, but back into Valor.
Where she belongs, with me.
The rest of the day is a perfect series of images in my mind.
Real pictures I can make into our new life now.
Her sleeping in my arms, waking to eat something, and then sleeping again before we make love again.
Like we have to prove that something so special can even exist. And it does, of course, it does.
It’s Rose and Thorn.
It’s destiny.
The phone ringing makes me realize three things:
I’m on the couch still, and it’s almost dawn.
The warm feeling of Rose in my arms, against my whole body, isn’t something I wanna break away from right now.
Parts of me are involved in the process.
But, being that it’s so early, I know it’s club business.
The same business we set in motion to protect her dad and do our job as Men of Valor MC.
As much as it pains me, I almost get up and answer the phone.
Almost.
Surprises me none, but I just know it’s Carson. And I guess I surprise him too when I don’t answer, letting it go to voice mail and me back to sleep with Rose in my arms.
An hour or maybe two later, I replay the message. After getting up.
“Thorn? We’re on our way over. I got the whole business sorted. Heading over with Blake and Co. so we can dot the I’s and cross the T’s…” he says cheerfully, hanging up laughing.
Relieved.
I groan audibly, waking Rose by accident.
This is so Carson. So… Men of Valor MC.
It’s kinda his little joke at me having finally found what I know he’d want to term romance in my life.
So much so, he wants to rub my nose in it.
Maybe see if someone can’t punch that nose to make it more worthwhile.
Maybe see just how much I want said romance by bringing the girl’s father here at eight a.m. with her wearing what’s left of my shirt and her virginity all over it.
I can’t hold that against him.
Secret services, and black ops operations? They were always far less sensitive.
Weird kinda humor gets born I guess, doing what we’ve done. Being who we are as a band of brothers in the MC too, I guess.
Always wanting the best and watching the others back.
But never missing a chance to poke some fun along the way.
If Cason says the job’s finished. If Rose’s dad is in the clear now, that’s good enough for me.
I got nothing left to do or hide from him or anyone else.
The club, Cason, and her old man better get used to seeing Rose Maxwell on my arm.
Because that’s where she belongs now.
A permanent fixture.
I find my jeans on the way to the front door, nothing else.
I got nothing to hide anymore and I’m pretty sure Rose doesn’t either.
Club business is club business, and if it’s taken directly to my home, Cason being one of the few I’d even see at this hour. I know he must have some positive news.
Kicking myself for leaving the gates open, I wince a little when I hear his cheerful voice on my porch.
The other voice a little less familiar and less welcome right now.