Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(33)

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."