Thunder (Hell's Handlers MC 10)

“I know,” he whispered back. “Me too.”

She smiled then squeezed her internal muscles.

With a harsh groan, Thunder’s head fell back. He snapped his hips forward, yanking her toward him with the grip on her ass at the same time. Now she was the one groaning except it came out as more of a mewl. He did it again, and again. Sharp, hard thrusts, controlling both their bodies.

Mak’s head hit the wall. “God, you feel so good.”

“That’s right, baby. You love that fat cock fucking you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she hissed. With him at the helm and her hands still trapped, she couldn’t do anything but be a puppet at his mercy. And it was mind-blowing.

They panted in time with each other as Thunder moved even faster inside her. Sweat rolled down her back to her ass, making him need to tighten his grip to keep from slipping. She’d bet tomorrow her ass would be full of finger-sized bruises.

“It’s yours whenever you want it. Whenever you need it. As is the rest of me.” He released her wrists. “Leave them up there.”

Mak linked her fingers. Her elbows drooped a bit, and her hands slid down the wall to rest on her head. Thunder continued to pound into her. “I’m close,” she whispered. Still, after all the orgasms he’d given her over the past few weeks, she felt a sliver of anxiety each time. Fear it would fade, and she’d be left hanging on the precipice.

He grunted then ran a finger down the front of her throat. “You need it?” he asked.

No longer ashamed of what her body and mind craved, she nodded. “Yes. I need it.”

“So fucking hot.” His hand ringed her throat again and grasped just enough to quiet the last of the outside world, threatening to break through her happiness.

“Thunder,” she said on a gasp.

“I got you, baby. Let go.”

Their gazes met and held.

He increased the pressure on her neck, and she couldn’t have held back the climax if she wanted to. A scream ripped from deep in her gut, slightly breathy due to her constricted airway. Pleasure flooded every cell in her body, weakening her knees and making her muscles contract and relax in an uncontrollable rhythm.

Thunder spoke, but she couldn’t make out anything more than “fuck” and “tight” over the rush of blood in her ears. Then he was kissing her—hard, as though he wanted to steal the rest of the air from her body.

He didn’t stop the assault on her mouth, even as his fingers clenched against her ass and he undulated against hers. A long, satisfied groan filled the quiet room.

Thunder released her throat but buried his face in the crook of her neck. Every few seconds, he took a little lick or pressed a kiss to her skin. They stayed there, lingering against the door for what felt like hours. With their damp bodies plastered against each other, breathing came in choppy puffs. Neither spoke as they let their bodies slowly calm.

Though her shoulder blades dug into the unforgiving wood of the door, and Thunder’s weight against her chest kept her from sucking in a full breath, Mak prayed the moment would never end. She slipped her hands under the hem of his T-shirt, stroking up and down his smooth back.

The long, corded muscles running the length of his spine fascinated her. The man knew exactly how to use each and every one of those muscles to his advantage, not only when dancing but also when driving her out of her mind with pleasure.

“I’m crushing you,” he eventually murmured into her neck.

“Mmm.” Real words took too much energy.

He pushed off the wall, causing the last inch of his semi-soft cock to slip from her body. She didn’t even try to hide the groan of disappointment, which only made his eyes flare with renewed desire.

“Insatiable,” he said before pressing a hard kiss to her swollen lips. Anyone who saw her over the next few hours would know what they’d been up to. “Let’s clean up quick then head to the clubhouse. Okay?”

Her knee jerk reaction was still to reject the idea of involving his club, but she clamped down the urge. Blowing out a breath, Mak said, “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Good girl.” Thunder winked and pulled her toward her room.

Forty-five minutes and one very stress-relieving shower later, they found an unexpected surprise waiting for them at the clubhouse. Three police vehicles with lights flashing blocked the entrance.

“What the fuck?” Thunder said as he removed his helmet.

“T-thunder,” she said, completely failing at removing the quiver from her voice. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t devoured a muffin while running out the door.

He turned and rested one hand on her shoulder where she still sat astride the bike. As he worked the strap of her helmet open, he said, “We don’t know anything yet, babe. Don’t panic.”