He groaned again underneath her as she started riding him faster, harder.
"Lucky," he managed to grind out, watching her beautiful body shimmy and bounce above him.
"Dirty … gypsy … trick," she teased, leaning down again. "Touch me, Damon."
He was all too eager to oblige, lifting his hands to her breasts; they were firm and soft, moving with each stroke of her body, her nipples tight. Her face burned red as he tried to keep up with her movements; for once, he was outpaced.
"Yes," she moaned, "just … just like that, Damon, please … "
He pinched and teased her nipples, his large hands covering the bottoms and sides of each globe as she bit her lip above him, feeling her whole self aching for him, throbbing around him, hungrier and hungrier with each stroke. It wasn't enough. She needed more.
Violently, she wrenched herself back, leaning until she had her hands on his thighs, her back arching and her hips jutting forward. Her mouth opened in a pained circle as the new angle forced him deeper into her pussy, each stroke forcing his shaft against her swollen clit. The visual was enough to make Damon want to burst, but he wanted her to come first; needed her to. He helped her keep steady, holding her hips as she ground against him and then pushed up, again and again, her hair tickling his knees.
"Fuck, Damon," she cried, not caring who might hear her from the other side of the door. "Fuck, fuck, baby, I'm gonna … I'm g-gonna c-come, please, just like this, just like … "
She felt like her body was going to break into a million pieces; his cock was so long and thick, the pleasure it gave was blinding. And when he reached across her torso, finding her tender clit with his thumb, she couldn't do anything but explode.
She ground down against his cock, begging for mercy as violent pleasure tore through her nervous system, a radiant bliss forcing her toes to curl like burning leaves and her fingers to dig into the flesh of his thigh for balance. She barely even noticed the way his hips jutted upward, the way his body spasmed below her.
What she noticed was the wet warmth of his cum as it burst forth inside her, soaking into her tingling slit and driving her orgasm into crescendo after crescendo, waves beating against the same shore, relentless. Her knees ached from the position she was holding, her thighs sore from straddling, but she would have endured all the pain in the world just to relive that one glorious pleasure, when her man gave her everything he had – because she was his woman, and it was hers to take.
But that didn't mean her body wouldn't cave at last, and so it did; she barely had the energy to lift herself forward, and it was only at the last possible moment that she decided it would be a bad idea to collapse onto his bandaged, wounded chest. Her breasts, tender and overstimulated, hovered against the rough fabric, her elbows catching her weight so that he wouldn't have to.
Her pussy still hugged his wilting cock in tiny spasms, leftover contractions; she wanted him to stay inside her as long as possible, and he did. When, finally, she felt him slide free, she looked up at him. With one hand, he dragged her face forward, kissing her gently, making her shoulders melt downward. She pulled away, loathing any separation between them but feeling her own body's need to rest, and rolled to his uninjured side.
"I love you," he said, looking down at her with those deep green eyes – shadows in the forest, she thought.
"Oh," she sighed, releasing everything in one blissful breath. "I love you too."
"Get your own line," he said. It made her want to laugh and slap him all at the same time.
"You know, Cristov's finally going to need those puns of yours when he becomes a dad," Tricia mused. For that moment, short as it might be, she wanted to pretend there were no bikers, no Curly Gottliebs, no stitches, no pains, no angry siblings. She just wanted her man. And for that moment, short as it might be, she had him.
36
"We're not allowed to call him the smart one anymore," Cristov said, his hands folded together between his knees, leaning forward on one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room of the hospital. Kennick paced in front of him. Ricky sat on one side of him, Mina on the other. Kim sat beside Ricky, her arms crossed, glaring at her sister out of the corner of her eye.
"Whatever, Cristov," Kennick growled. "We can talk about the Volanis family intelligence rankings later, alright? What are we going to do about these assholes?"
"What is there to do?" Kim asked, snapping out of her focus on Ricky for the time being. "They don't know he made it, right? So if they think he's dead … "
"O lov tai o beng nashti beshen patshasa," Mina muttered, then translated for Ricky and Kim's benefit. "Neither money nor the devil can remain in peace. There's no way this ends nicely without us doing something. They think they killed him, they get cocky, decide to come after all of us. They figure out he's still alive, they come after him again, and anyone in the way gets caught in the crossfire."
"Mina's right," Kennick said, taking a seat beside Kim, who sighed, taking Kennick's hand in hers and leaning against his shoulder. "Our best bet is to take the offensive. If we can get the better of them again, they might get it through their road-addled skulls that they're never going to win. We can scare them off to Cuba. Besides … "
His voice trailed off. Ricky leaned over, eyebrows raised, questioning her brother-in-law.
"We owe Jenner," Kennick growled, looking down. Cristov visibly bristled at the man's name.
"We don't owe him shit," Cristov said.
"You don't," Kennick said, sighing. "But I do. I gave him my word."
"Fuck your word," Cristov snapped. "He's a snake. He tried to fuck us twice. Not just us, everyone. His own damn family. No one's going to judge you for going back on a promise to a snake like that."
"God will," Kennick said. "And I will."
"Give it up, Cristov," Mina said, putting her hand on her brother's shoulder. "You know as well as I do, a Volanis' word is good as gold."
Cristov grumbled and rubbed his hands together, but bit back his further protests. Mina stood up.
"I'm going to find out where they are," she said. "Or, at least, where we can find them."
"How do you plan on doing that?" Cristov scoffed. Mina shot him a withering glare.
"You get Damon to spill once, you think you're like the chief brother-tamer. I've been doing it since I was five. You ever figure out who really took Dad's prize-winning thirty-year-aged rum and sold it to Pavlo Surry?"
"Son of a bitch," Cristov said, leaning back in his chair. "I always thought it was Nal … "
"I thought it was you," Kennick said, looking at Cristov.
"See you in a few," Mina said.
"How could you think it was me?" Cristov said, glaring at Kennick.
"Well, you got that light-up yo-yo right after … "
"I told you, I got that from giving Bernie Tobler my whoopee pies every day at lunch for a month … "
"Excuse me," Ricky said, holding up both hands. "Is this relevant? At all? To anything?"
"It's a matter of trust," Cristov grumbled, looking away.
"Yeah, Ricky," Kim said, now turning her attention to her sister. "Trust is a very important thing when it comes to siblings."
"Jesus Christ … " Ricky moaned, slouching down in her chair as low as she could get before slipping off entirely.
37
"Damon," Mina said, knocking on the closed door. There was a moment of silence, a rustling, and then his voice.
"Come in."
Mina opened the door just enough to look through; Tricia was sitting on the side of the bed, her legs dangling over the side, her dress slightly rumpled.
"Can I have a moment?" Mina asked, sliding herself in and letting the door close behind her with a click.
"Anything you have to say, you can say … " Damon began to say, putting a hand on Tricia's back when she made to rise from the bed.
"I know," Mina said, walking closer. "I'm not Cristov. But I'd rather just talk to you alone."
"I want to talk to Ricky, anyway," Tricia said, sliding away from Damon's hand. "God, the girl who couldn't keep a secret … "
She smiled at Mina as she walked past, leaving them alone in the room. Mina approached the side of Damon's bed, half a smile on her face, shaking her head slightly.
"My big, stupid brother," she said softly. "We were scared for you. You understand that, right? The boys are mad because they were scared. You're a man. You know how it is. Men can't get scared, they just get angry."