Cross Your Heart:Inked Angels MC(11)

After long, agonizing seconds, he was buried inside me. I looked up and saw his eyes shining down at me. Sweat slicked my brow. I arched upwards to steal a furtive kiss from him. He slid back out from me, almost all the way but not quite.



"Trust me, Corinne," he said. "I know what I'm doing."



I nodded. He leaned down and our kiss broke open hot and deep as he moved back into me, faster this time. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for dear life. The kiss became just an entangling of our mouths, a place for our breath to meet and mingle, for our moans to coalesce, as he withdrew and then drove into me again, harder and faster again.



He started to pump, and the pressure that I thought I had already survived transformed into an intense heat that felt even more powerful. My pussy was the center of it, right where his cock slid along the inner surface and his hips ground against my mound. The heat built with every stroke as Croak began bucking hard into me. His thick cock speared me over and over again. Each time he crashed in, a new whimper erupted from my mouth. His arms on either side of me were like steel beams, muscles knotted and clenched with the effort of the thrusting that was bring me closer and closer to coming yet again.



Croak leaned back and arranged my legs over his shoulders. I threw my hands back over my head and squeezed the sheets as he resumed stroking. He was plunging into me as fast as he could now. I heard his concentrated grunts and the thought of his cum pushed me even closer. He licked a thumb and used it to quiver my clit while he continued to slam his rod into me.



"I'm gonna, I'm gonna … " I tried to say, but I couldn't get the words out. Every time I did, it just devolved into a meaningless moan. I arched my back again and he pulled me closer to him. His hands were tight on my thighs.



"Come, baby," he said. "Hard."



I followed his orders and dropped over the edge. This climax was deeper and stranger than the last. It came from somewhere way inside of me and rippled outwards in powerful, silent waves. I squeezed down hard on his cock with my pussy. As I did, I felt him give way, too, and his cum erupted inside of me, filling me with hot, white seed. My whole body tightened like a fist around him as we came together. Seconds or minutes or maybe even centuries passed while the throes of my climax and his consumed us.



I would never be the same again.





Chapter 9


Croak



The second we finished fucking, all the good vibes we'd had going went away like smoke on the wind. I could only hear the voice it my head, saying the same thing over and over again: What the fuck did you just do?   





 



I'd just had the best sex of my life - with the president's daughter. How big of a fucking idiot could I be? I lived my life by my own rules, but I'd broken a serious one here. Corinne was off limits, and I'd disregarded that sign and plunged in anyways. Growler was gonna have my balls for breakfast, and rightfully so. Hell, I'd have done the same if I were him. Even if it wasn't a rule on paper, there was a sense of decorum that made this whole damn MC operate, and I'd gone and jizzed all over it. Or rather, inside it, which was even worse. Fucking. Idiot.



But goddamn, it sure was a hell of a ride. I'd never had anything like that before. I mean, the bartender had been par for the course - something quick and dirty and fun, no strings attached. This was something else. It was, dare I say it, emotional. There was more than just sex here. There was a real connection. Something deeper. Harder to put a finger on.



Shit, what the hell was I talking about? There wasn't anything there because there couldn't be anything there. That wasn't allowed. I was deluding myself into a dumb train of thoughts that was gonna get me into even deeper trouble than the shit's creek I was already neck-deep in. I needed to do one thing and one thing only: get the hell out of here.



I stood up abruptly. "I gotta go," I said. I couldn't even bear to look at her. Christ, I was a pussy. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the confused expression on her face.



"Wait, but …  I mean, what?" she stammered.



"I need to go right now. This was a bad idea." I struggled into my jeans, hopping around as one leg got caught on my heel. I stubbed a toe and cursed.



"What are you talking about?"



I could hear tears lurking on the edge of her voice. Please don't cry, I thought to myself. That was the last thing I needed right now. "I shouldn't have come up," I said gruffly. I pulled my shirt over my head and stepped into my boots one at a time.



Please, please don't - ah, shit. There they were. A tear glinted on her cheek. Her voice was choked and confused. I couldn't blame her. After something like that, I was about to just run out the door? I could hardly believe I had the balls to do something that brazen. What an asshole move. I didn't know until know I was capable of something that dickish. But the alarm horns were blaring in my head and I was doing the one thing I knew best, which was to cut and run. Make my escape before the situation got too messy.



But I knew damn well that it was already too messy. This was different than all the other times. If I left now, I'd be hurting her. I looked at Corinne.



She was beautiful. The moon slanting in through the blinds hanging on the window lit up her pale skin. She looked so angelic in the light, like she was glowing. The tears streaming down her cheeks were glistening, too. I felt something unfamiliar lurch inside my chest.



What was I doing? We'd accidentally stumbled across something that I never expected to find. Hell, I thought I was just scooping up the president's daughter when she'd gotten herself into a spot of trouble. I never in a million years would have dreamed that we'd end naked and entangled on her bed so quickly. But that's exactly what had happened, and now I had to deal with the consequences.



By which I meant run from them.



"I'm sorry," I said, for what felt like the first time in my life. "But I have to go." I stormed out before she could say another word.



# # #



The wind in my face as I rode home didn't feel as comforting as it did earlier in the night. Now, it was like gritty daggers poking me in the eyes. I drove to my house, looked at the silent, darkened windows, and just kept on going. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that I was gonna be able to get anything resembling a restful night of shuteye. Not after all this mess. I decided to ride until a better idea hit me.



My thoughts were stupid and repetitive, the same two sides of an argument going back and forth like squawking birds.



I shouldn't have done that.



Well, I did, so now what?



Cut and run. That's the only reasonable option.



No, I know there's something more to her. To both of us. I can't just run from that.



I can and I will. The prez is gonna roast me. Shit, he might take my patch or strip me of my rank. He'd be justified.



Fuck Growler. That's a problem for the morning. Right now, I need to go back to that girl and fix the mess I caused.



I can't.



I have to.



I can't.



I felt drained and amped up at the same time. My muscles were stringy, restless. My fingers were tap-dancing on the throttle anxiously. I'd never felt so unsettled in my life, but there wasn't an easy solution at hand. Every avenue was riddled with potholes and dead ends. Either I pursue what I'd started or I run as fast as I can in the other direction. Neither one seemed appealing.   





 



I decided I needed an outlet. I drove to the twenty-four-hour gym on the other side of town and parked my bike out front. The place was empty as I walked in. The glare overhead from the fluorescent light beams was exactly the kind of harshness I was looking for. I wanted to punish my body, to slam it with strain until my brain gave up on thinking.



Walking over to a bench press station, I loaded up the barbell with as much weight as I could get my hands on. I clambered onto the bench, pushed it overhead, then let it descend to my chest. Up, down, up, down, the weight flew. I channeled all of my pent-up rage and frustration into the effort. Die, thoughts, die. My chest was on fire. Every muscle fiber screamed for rest, but I kept pressing. Just a few more. Two more. One more.



I racked the weight and sat up. The pain had transformed into an all-consuming numbness. But my brain was as alive as ever, full of images.



Corinne, eyes fluttering behind half-closed eyelids as my tongue slid across her hips.



Corinne, thighs fallen apart, biting her lip and looking up at me so anxiously and sexily.



Corinne. Corinne. Everywhere I looked.



"Shut the fuck up," I growled out loud. Another man had wandered in after me, and he gave me a sideways glance. I figured I must have looked like a maniac, talking to myself and lifting weights with an insane frenzy at four in the morning. Ah, well, fuck him. I probably did have a screw or two lose, but whatever, so did everyone else on this goddamn planet.



I told myself to just think about the bartender. She'd been a nice little dime. Easy enough and blissfully uncomplicated. Flirt, fuck, and leave. That was my preferred operating method. "Just picture her," I muttered. I moved over to the squat rack and added plates until the bar was groaning. Stepping beneath it, I hoisted it onto my back and then bent at the knees until my quads were blazing. Stand, squat, repeat ad nauseam, until my legs were trembling just as desperately as my chest.