Raiden (Satan’s Angels MC #2)

Chapter 17

Ella

I t might seem irreverent, having a party. We’re keeping it lowkey and contained, nothing spilling outside of the clubhouse, but inside, the place is alive. We’re not celebrating the fact that men lost their lives. We’re celebrating our own lives. That we’re not the ones in the dirt, and until that day comes for us, we need to feel alive .

The music is blaring, cigarette and weed smoke curls through the air in clouds of blue, and bodies clog the clubhouse’s lounge.

Honestly, it reminds me of my wedding.

Minus the fact that Raiden and I are on speaking terms.

More than that.

He hasn’t let me out of his sight for any longer than necessary—that being club duties that take up his time and attention.

We’ve shared the same bed together since the attempted kidnapping. We’ve just slept. Or lain awake keeping each other company with the broody volume of our unvoiced thoughts. If the situation wasn’t so stressful, the whole club on the worst kind of alert, it might have been romantic.

It might even have been intimate .

The worry and the fear jamming up into our insides like sharp blades kept it from being.

The relief in the club is a palpable thing. It vibrates up through the floorboards of the old warehouse turned clubhouse, ricochets of the walls, and thrums through my bloodstream.

We can breathe again.

This might be a smaller club than the one I’m familiar with, but tonight they’re partying as hard as any other bikers. It doesn’t matter that it’s the middle of the week. Every single man in here is going to wake up tomorrow with a hangover that leaves them seeing stars, and probably most of the women as well.

Preacher and his old lady, Rita, who are in their forties, are over at the dartboard on the far side of the room, but they’re all over each other like they just met, and not throwing or scoring. Preacher literally used to be a preacher, in a real church. Rita runs one of the clubs here in Hart, but not the one those tweakers burnt. She strictly does clubs, not strip clubs.

Jody and Atlas, two young, very beautiful people, have found a dark corner of the room. They don’t give a shit that everyone or anyone could see them. They’re making out, but they’re not doing anything that most others here aren’t engaging in.

Decay and Grave are twin brutish looking brothers. I heard they came from Canada and never left Hart when they stopped along the way. They’re both in the middle of the room, swaying to the music with a few of the club whores. They have a drink in each hand, but their women for tonight are doing the touching for them.

Reckless and Seer are playing pool against Scythe and Reaper. That’s one scary team, but Seer is a grizzled old biker badass bitch, and she can more than hold her own. Reckless was my dad’s VP when he was president of this place. He doesn’t look like he’ll take any shit either. So far, the game is amicable, despite the many drinks littering the pool table’s surface.

Bullet and Smoke are tossing back drinks, standing to the left of the room, probably talking about guns.

Crow and Gunner scare the shit out of me. They both wear their all-black ensembles differently than the rest of the men here. They certainly wear their dead expressions in a uniquely chilling way. It makes sense that they’re both smoking joints on the couch beside each other, their eyes tracking everything, missing nothing.

Odin, Axe, Numb Nuts, Brick, and Mason are all engaged in various ways with the club whores around the lounge.

Even Wizard and the club’s prospects take short breaks from being on guard duty and monitoring the tech to pop in and soak up that sweet feeling of being alive.

I’ve never been to a biker funeral before, but I’ve been to regular ones, unfortunately. The atmosphere is grave, but the longing to cheat death and deny your own immortality by living as hard and fast as possible in the moment is the same.

Everyone here feels it.

I’m not immune.

This night reminds me of my wedding, except that tonight, Raiden doesn’t mind my company. We’re on speaking terms. If anyone’s noticed how we’ve been standing extra close or how I’ve been sleeping in his room, no one has said anything.

This time, us outsiders are included in this club like we’re a part of the family. I saved Lark’s life. I put myself between her and those men. I killed for her, but I was willing to die to make sure they didn’t get to her too. That’s made me, unquestionably, a member of the family, an honorary Angel.

When Raiden left, the fear that speared through me made it impossible to breathe until he came back. Several times, I had to check to make sure I hadn’t done something stupid like shot myself and didn’t realize it, the pain was that bad. The weight and the toll of taking a life are clearly pressing down on him, a spear of his own, but he’s alive, he’s here, and when I glance over at him, he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in this room he wants to see.

I’m holding a beer in one hand, the can sweating all over me and dribbling condensation onto the floor. I’ve been holding it for some time without drinking it, but the thing is still sweating. It was practically frozen when I got it.

Raiden was talking with Gray and Lark before they started pairing off like a few of the other couples in this room, here, but oblivious to anyone but each other. He sauntered over to stand beside me ten minutes ago, and we’ve stood here without saying anything.

I was almost afraid to look at him, dumb as that sounds.

I’m scared of the current stretched taut between us. I’m freaked the fuck out of the level of need I feel for him. I want to be close to him. I want to be in his bed. I want to be inside his head and have him inside of me.

Honestly? I never saw myself settling down. Not with anything other than knowledge and a demanding career.

When I finally look at him, the tension that’s been building between us ignites. I hope that Raiden is done drinking in the riotous breath giving of this party. I hope he’s had enough life infused back into him here, because now that I’ve just glanced his way, my body is flames near a whole tank of gasoline. Tonight, neither of us are banking our desires because there’s more important things we need to focus on.

Just thinking about Raiden filling me, sliding in with his thick length, makes me soak my panties under the tight black leather dress I’m wearing. I came to this party decked out in full biker babe gear, leather dress short enough to barely cover my ass and thigh high black leather lace up boots to make up for it included.

My desire must be clear on my face because Raiden’s eyes darken. He clutches the glass in his hand hard enough to shatter it. His knuckles are white with the strain. I wonder if he’s feeling it too, his cock slipping inside of me, my walls clenching around him. Is he hard as steel in his jeans? Does it hurt? Does he ache for me?

He steps into me, brushing against my arm with his. The noise in here swallows my gasp. He switches his drink to his other hand and takes mine, twisting our fingers together. My hands are no longer soft and ladylike, a source of pride for me, but his are twice as abrasive. Just that touch makes my throat close up.

It takes everything I have not to curl into him and climb him right there, stripping his clothes off, and mine, along the way.

His mouth is like a lifeline. That’s what this party is about- celebrating living a good life.

I cling to him, the weight of our sins scored heavily on our souls, but I know that we’d do the same thing again and again. I don’t like it and neither does Raiden, but we chose this life. We chose this family of rough men and women.

My dad’s club doesn’t feel like this place. There’s not the same camaraderie, the same deep friendship, the same sense that anyone here would die for the man to his left and the man to his right. This is more than just a place to get drunk, smoke weed, ride bikes, and fuck women who are attracted to that lifestyle like moths with singed wings.

Raiden drops his face, his breath skating along my cheek. “Want my cock in you, Ella, want it right now, worse than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

I probably gasp again. I don’t even know. I’m lost in the crazed vibrations rattling through me. “That would involve leaving.” I have to shout back for him to hear. I don’t dare get my face close to his or I’m going to let him claim my mouth and from there, he can have whatever else he wants, no matter who is watching, which means I need to have control, and we need to get out of here fast.

We could always come back.

I know we won’t.

It’s funny that we’re two people who got used to making it on our own, but we like being close to each other, holding each other and not letting go. Maybe that’s how it is for everyone like us. We fall harder specifically because of our determination not to.

Raiden dips his thumb down into his drink and paints my bottom lip with a stripe of whiskey. The stinging tang of it burns over my tongue when I sweep it out, but not like the way the aftertaste of him does.

I rub my thighs together, clenching them to try and combat the red-hot lust that’s charging through me like a battery getting too much current. I’m ready to combust or explode, just like they do.

My beer practically slips out of my hands, so I bend and set it on the floor before I have an accident with it. My five-inch spike heels put me nearly level with Raiden. “We’re leaving.”

He watches me lazily, almost insolently, lifting his glass and slowly sipping down the whiskey. I watch his throat as he swallows, longing to sink my teeth there. I’d never call Raiden a tease, but he knows perfectly well what he’s doing to me.

“You drink that whiskey any slower and the hunter will become the hunted,’ I promise darkly.

He almost chokes on the last swallow, a reluctant grin spreading across his face. He’s so lovely when he smiles. The sound of his laughter is far better. They’re beautiful because they’re so rare.

It’s not wise to give your heart naively. I was told to come here, but is it my choice now to stay? Am I just my father’s puppet? What happens if I defy him? Even without his commanding presence in my life, I’ve learned the hard way from the past that people can’t be trusted. Romance exists purely in stories. Real life is brutal, with all the bitterness of disappointment and the wounding arrows of harm.

At the same time, I can’t say I ever gave my heart to anyone. I’ve kept it safe and untouched.

It doesn’t feel like a choice to give it to Raiden.

He moves and I follow.

He sets his glass down and I leave my beer bottle on the floor. Someone will kick it over and probably curse about it within a matter of minutes. I should be responsible, but I don’t look back.

I just blindly follow.

I’d do more than that blindly. He might never ask me for my heart, but he’s winning it without a word.

It’s terrifying. Life has taught me about self-preservation and normally, it’s a lesson I heed, but the memory of Raiden’s touch, the feel of his mouth moving against mine, the fit of his cock inside me, is more temptation than I can bear.

I follow him down the dark hallway away from the lounge, to the back where his room is.

We don’t make it before Raiden turns on me, slams me up against the wall more in play than actual force, his hand behind my head and the other blocking the blow at the base of my spine. One more gasp swallowed up by the music trailing us out here and then he’s kissing me.

He’s hungry, but so am I. Our mouths are frantic. His hand cups my ass as he steps between my legs and drives me harder into the wall. I hook one leg around his waist and climb him to get closer.

He slows the kiss down, taking his time after a minute, savoring me like he did that whiskey that I can still taste on him. He strokes my tongue with his, making me moan with the mad need to be closer. I grasp his wrist and bring his hand around to my thigh. He pushes up my dress, hooking two fingers inside my panties so he can feel the slick, burning heat of me and know just how badly I want him.

He strokes one finger down my slit while he caresses my tongue with his in tandem. I push against his hand, trying to get him inside of me, but he won’t give that to me.

He cups the back of my head instead, digging his fingers into my hair while he keeps smoothing his finger down my slit, bumping against my clit frustratingly and against my entrance like the worst tease.

He tilts my face to the side and kisses me deeper, taking his time like he wants to memorize every detail of my mouth.

I know my panties are soaked.

The vibrations of the music pulse through these walls, up into my back. My legs are starting to tremble. I’m glad Raiden has me pinned to the wall. Another minute and I’m going to be leaking all over his hand, coating my thighs as I soak through the lace panties. Still. He kisses me like he’s in no hurry to get to his room.

I want to get to his room.

I need to get to his room.

I want his cock down my throat, in my pussy, filling up my ass. I don’t fucking care where—I just need him. It’s all I can do not to sink to my knees and take him out right there and prove to him that I have just about no gag reflex.

I slide down a little as my legs start to buckle, catching the flash of black behind Raiden in the hall.

“Ray. Oh my god.”

Raiden whips himself in front of me, reaching around to the back of his jeans for a weapon. I don’t know if it’s there or not. If it is, he doesn’t draw it. “Christ, Gunner!” My hand flies to Raiden’s chest to steady myself, his heart hammering underneath my fingers. I wasn’t the only one who just got startled out of my skin. “The shit you sometimes pull is abnormal as fuck, you know that?”

Abnormal as fuck about sums it up. The way he’s watching, propped up against the wall like a disinterested corpse, eyes glowing like two terrible shuttered gas lanterns piercing the night in twin halos, is nothing but straight up terrifying.

Gunner’s lips pull back in a tight, black smile. It’s even scarier than his usual flat, disinterested expression. “I know. That’s why I wanted to apologize.”

Raiden doesn’t unfold his body from mine. “It’s kind of a bad time right now.”

Gunner blanks, someone dialing down the knob on that lantern. Whatever emotion he was displaying is gone. Forced? Faked? I’ve met a lot of different people, but no one like him.

He turns that dimmed down icy stare on me. “I scared you.”

I shrug and cross my arms, putting one boot against the wall to lean casually, slightly away from Raiden. I’m nowhere near as good at faking it as Gunner is, so might as well go with the truth. “You’re scaring me currently.”

“I…” He glances over his shoulder, down the hall, but we’re alone here.

I don’t get the sense that Gunner could ever be an enemy, and thank god for that, but the creepy factor he has going on is always going to be blasting as loud as the music currently thumping up the floorboards and vibrating in the walls.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” He turns to Raiden, giving me a moment of relief. “This place… you guys are the only family I’ve literally ever known. There’s not many choices for a man like me in life, and Zale saw that. Back before he was twisted up and blinded by the shit that doesn’t mean anything, he used to get it. He used to see straight into a man and know the heart of him.” He knocks his fist over his chest. “Physically, I have one. Even the worst monster has to, in order to breathe.”

Maybe Gunner wants people to think he doesn’t feel. Maybe he truly can’t most of the time, but it’s obvious that something got through. He’s struggling. He’s here for a reason. The remorse of taking a life so brutally and almost gleefully that day outside the range is lacking, but he’s capable of knowing fear. Does he think he’ll be cut out of this place?

“That’s bullshit. There’s always a choice and you know it,” Raiden cuts in.

“I chose to come here, yeah? I don’t want to lose it.”

“You think that I’d go to Gray and—”

“No. I’m only here to apologize. It’s the right thing to do.”

“But not what you feel in your gut you should do.”

“We both know that feeling isn’t my forte.”

I’m not sure that’s the truth. I watch his face darken during his exchange with Raiden like someone’s just slipped the sharpest of blades through his ribs.

“I know fear and apprehension. You’ve seen what I am. You knew before, but now you’ve witnessed it. It’ll change—”

“Fuck.” Raiden disengages from me and slaps a hand onto Gunner’s shoulder, genuinely surprising the hell out of him. He steps back awkwardly, immediately shaking loose of the touch. Raiden’s hand flexes and he drops it. “Nothing’s changing. You’re a part of this club. You’re my brother, no matter how messed up you might be. We’re a family and it takes all kinds here to make this club a good thing. Doesn’t matter what happened before or what you have inside of you. You’re here and you’re an Angel. The past is just the shit we live with and try to balance out. We all have shit going on. You’re no worse than anyone else, you’re just wired different. You got that? We’re Satan’s Angels, brother, we stick together, and we watch each other’s backs. I trust you with my life.”

“I…” The words settle and sink and Gunner’s features harden from disbelief to his regular mask. “Yeah.” The coldest blue eyes I’ve ever known rake over me and settle, building up ice in my stomach. “She’s a bullet straight to your chest, but she’s good for you. She’ll become a part of you, carved into your flesh, inked into your soul. Love’s probably like that. Like getting taken out by a weapon you never saw coming. It kills you, but it’s right.”

It’s just as well that I can’t see Raiden’s face right now. Mine heats painfully, but it’s nothing compared to the ache of longing in my chest and the mystification settling like fog in my head. Love is a heady word.

Gunner watches me, studying me, trying to understand. “If it’s anything like this club, it’s worth hanging onto. Nothing matters more.”

He walks off, steps eaten up by the music. Was it that way before or did we just not hear him coming?

“Good talk,” Raiden calls. “Strange talk,” he mutters to me, shaking his head. “What the fuck?”

“I don’t know.”

I claw him back to me, dragging his face down to mine. He’s not taking any other chances with interruptions to our privacy. Not that we thought about it before, but we need the solid walls of his bedroom in a big way now.

We were going to get there eventually, but the interaction with Gunner speeds things up.

Raiden picks me up, arranges my legs around his waist, tugs my dress down to cover my ass, and carries me there.

He gets the code punched in and the door slammed shut, sets me onto meet feet, and it’s game over for our clothes.

We tear them off, zippers screaming, seams ripping, shoes flying.

After we’re naked, Raiden slows down again. He’s good at controlling the fire in him. Much better than I am. My flames are overpowering, but his are a careful study in concentration.

I like the way he focuses on me, eyes hot on my body.

His hands are even better, cupping my breasts, stroking down my waist and my ass, a dance of seduction right from his fingertips.

He looks like the kind of man who’d want to own a woman. His cropped hair, tattoos, fierce features and hard expression are enough to scare anyone, unless you’re into that. I wasn’t before and probably would never be again. It’s not his aura that I’m into. I’m not one of those women who gravitates to danger because she just can’t help herself. It’s just him. I married him and then I started to fall.

I’m falling now because he’s the opposite of rough. He’s kind and considerate. He knows about my past and he does nothing without permission, even if it’s just a silent hesitation before I take the lead and show him that I’m fine.

It’s utterly consuming, that heady sensation of being cherished. I’ve never had a man put my needs before his. Never had one truly appreciate me for my mind, my talents, my skills. Tits and ass, that’s pretty much what I’ve always been, even to the smartest man. But this man? He appreciates me down to my soul.

He once accused me of casting a spell over him.

I think it’s the other way around.

“Are we thinking or are we fucking?” Raiden asks, but not unkindly. He tips my face up and kisses me gently, pulling me deeper into his vortex.

“Can’t we do both?”

“My cock and manly pride are extremely injured that you’d even ask that question.”

“You don’t think about sex?”

“All the time, but not while I’m doing it. I like to just enjoy it when I’m in the moment.”

“Goodness. Just a moment.”

He tackles me gently to the bed, catching me when I fall like the mattress might do me real harm. It’s a perfect mattress. No springs, no age, probably expensive. He still breaks my fall.

He tucks my legs around his waist, but changes his mind, hauling them up to his shoulders and spreading them, opening me way the hell up to him. “Gorgeous,” he breaths reverently, like he’s in front of an altar in some church.

If he was the god I was worshipping, I might be more inclined to go to one for the first time ever. Blasphemous, but true.

“This is going to take more than a moment, so you’d better brace yourself.”

“With what? You?”

“Put your palms against the headboard. I don’t want to screw you through the wall.”

He’s notching himself to my entrance, bear. I freeze. He freezes as our skin makes contact. God, I want to just shove him in me. I want to feel him without a barrier. I want his heat and his seed, hot and deep inside of me.

“How failproof is your IUD?”

“Better than ninety-nine percent.”

His eyes lock with mine. I think he’s going to reach for the condom anyway, but he doesn’t move. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about this. Didn’t crave it.”

“Without the condom, we might be back down to a minute.”

His lips twitch. It’s fun, sassing him this way. Instead of fighting against him, giving it to him as good as I know I’ll get back, clawing my place into the world with every breath and every word, it’s so much more enjoyable to channel that energy into something that can be playful.

“I’m going to destroy your pussy for that.”

“What? Fuck all the doubt out of me?”

“Yes.”

“Destroy as in, we’ll both be wrecked?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then you undoubtedly should.”

His cock is so huge that when he pushes inside, I whimper even though I’m watching him do it and he’s not a beast about it. I put my own flexibility to the test when I reach up and grasp his shoulders, bracing myself that way.

He groans, dipping his face to the inside of my ankle as he fills me. He’s watching himself do it and I’m watching him go heavy lidded with the feel and sight of it.

“Fuck, Ella. Fucking gorgeous. So beautiful. Taking my dick like you were made for me.”

Like I’m made for him. Why does that sound so dangerously true with every passing day?

He changes it up, curling his huge hands around my thighs. He slides my legs from his shoulders, pulling back enough so that he can split them apart. He bends forward, inhaling the scent of our joined bodies.

“Heaven,” he rumbles. “You smell like it. feel like it…” He inserts his finger carefully, forcing me to take it even though I’m already stretched around his cock. I pant through the extra fullness until he removes it, brings it to his mouth, and sucks it clean. “Taste like it too.”

Oh my god .

When his eyes open back up after licking his finger clean, his animal determination is clear. “Hands on the headboard, El. Now.” He doesn’t even try to pretend like he’s not losing control and fast.

I want to see him break apart, want to feel him in every part of me, nothing between us.

I get my wish as he grasps my hips, bends over me, lowers my legs so that my feet are braced on the bed, and rams into me like a man possessed.

My hands slam against the wood headboard. It takes all my strength not to get pushed through it. I can hold my own, but Raiden is tall, strong, and fucking me like there isn’t going to be another chance.

There damn well better be.

I want tomorrow.

The day after.

So many more.

I want them with him.

I open my mouth to scream, I can’t contain the sound.

“I think it’s been about a minute,” I whimper, trying to sass, but without a voice, it’s nearly impossible. “Congrats.”

“I’ll give you at least one more. Better hold tight and if you want to scream my name, go right ahead. I’ll catch it with the palm of my hand. Feel free to bite. I don’t mind.”

His flexing abs and huge shoulders are shimmering with a glorious sheen of sweat as he labors over me. There’s a nightlight in the corner, casting sensual light that paints Raiden in all his masculine glory. The ink on his skin dances with his movements. He looks like a god, but he’s flesh and blood, a good man, worthy and beautiful, tender and hard in turns, connected to my soul in a way I’ve never known.

“Bite? Scream? Oh my god, are you even inside yet?”

His grin is a slash in his face. “Darlin’, you’re barely taking this thick cock.”

“Barely? You’re balls deep in me.”

He flexes his hips in one slow drag, pulling out and thrusting back in. I slam my eyes closed, but he tsks at me. “Open, Ella. I want to see your beautiful eyes as I make you come.”

I wriggle against him, eager to drive the pleasure into the painful peak of my climax. It’s so close, but not close enough.

Raiden waits and when it doesn’t happen, he changes it up, pulling out of me and tugging me into his arms. He swings us around, sits down with his back against the headboard, and pulls me into his lap.

This is so much hotter than just being on top.

This is us, skin to skin, our sweat soaked skin sticking to each other, our hearts beating together, looking each other in the face.

I lower myself onto his cock without guiding him to me. I don’t use my hands at all, just go so slowly so that I can close and clench fully around him. The new intimacy and the way he bottoms out and hits brand new spots inside of me makes my head fall back. Raiden’s hand snaps out to support my neck, holding onto me while I grind down on him. He was deep before, but now he’s impaling me.

My skin breaks out in goosebumps. I’m so cold, tingling from my feet all the way up to my belly.

Raiden slams me against him and then lifts me up and down roughly, sawing me over his cock.

“This okay?” His rough growl rumbles through me like a clap of thunder.

“Yes.”

I watch him in all his physical glory, all his maleness that makes me want to hit my peak just from drinking it in, and he watches me right back.

“Beautiful,” he whispers with more tenderness than I knew he had in him. “You gonna come for me.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do and my goodness isn’t determined by my following your orders or coming or not.” He pales for a second, before I let him have a lilting smile. “But I’ll do my best.”

Raiden stops, leaving my grinding against him alone. I slowly come to a halt as well. I hope he knows I was just bugging him. I hate being told what to do outside the bedroom unless it’s club related business, but this club isn’t like my father’s. In this club, people have a say and Gray isn’t a tyrant. It’s such a welcome difference to see men happy, even under threat. They’re living the lives they chose for themselves, not the ones their president demanded that they adhere to.

“This thing, if we do it, it’s not about ownership. It’s about writing our names into each other’s bones and blood.”

Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I’m just fast enough to blink them away and give Raiden a sassy smile, but inside, I’m quaking. All the old questions, what if it doesn’t work, what if I can’t stay, what if this isn’t the path I was meant to be on, what if we hurt each other, rear their heads, but I refuse to listen, even if I should.

I can’t heed my own advice. I’m too far gone already. There’s something about Raiden etched into the parts of me that I can’t reach, so there’s no digging him back out. He’s always going to be the man I married out of obligation, but found I’d been waiting for without even knowing it.

I have enough feelings that I was going half mad while he was gone. I do feel tenderness and even protective of him. I do like hearing his rare laughter and seeing him smile. I want to stand with him to fight the demons in his life, real and imagined.

That’s far from love, but it’s not nothing.

I wrap my arms around his neck, cling to his back and splay my fingers over his buzzed hair. I tuck my shoulder against his neck. It’s my silent answer, my way of getting even closer.

When he starts moving inside me again, he does it like he never stopped or paused. Like he wants to wreck me for walking for the next week and fill me up so full of him that there won’t be a step I can take without him leaking out of me.

He grips my hips tight, taking him with me as he plunges higher and harder, stroking inside of me so brutally and so far, that it does more than create heat. It winds up electricity and springs that I shouldn’t have because I’m not a machine. He’s hot and deliciously wet without the condom. There’s none of the friction that him thrusting so hard might cause. I’m wet and slippery, but it’s just different having him bare. So much fucking better. Feeling him inside of me like that makes all my nerves fire and my walls clench even harder.

I know I’m approaching the edge and that I won’t be able to claw myself back from it this time.

I don’t let go of him. I keep holding tight. We’re not just slick where we’re joined, our skin is stuck together all along our front. I bite down on his shoulder, sinking my teeth deep. His answering roar near my ear is so satisfying that I could burst from the ferocity of it.

It’s only a few more thrusts before I’m breaking apart. He’s riding me down the length of his cock, lifting me back up and slamming me again. My clit keeps bumping up against him and the last time he does it, that’s what finally sets me off.

I go from breaking to a bomb blast that shatters me completely.

This is no normal climax.

I have to sink my teeth into his shoulder and fuse my mouth there to keep from screaming the place down. Enough wounded animal whimpers get out that it breaks him and he thrusts hard and spills inside of me. His body shudders against me, jacking into me with such force that I’m the one holding him.

I cling to him long before his arms wrap around my back and his hand caresses my hair tenderly. I’m still seeing stars because his cock is still kicking inside of me, even half spent. My cheeks are wet. I’m crying from all the jumbled sensations, the force of my climax, the storm that swept over me.

I’m holding Raiden too tight. I should let go. It’s dangerous, being this close, but tonight, I want to take the risk.

I’ve already taken it.

If I’m supposed to hold out and protect us from each other, it’s a game I’m not playing very well.

I don’t let go. I keep myself wrapped around him like a second skin cherishing his slowing breaths, the damp heat of him, the solid power of his body. He’s not holding himself back from the risk either. He told me, in that mystified, deep and tender tone, that he’s shit at this game too.

My tears keep leaking down my cheeks, bathing his shoulder.

“I hope you’re crying because you’re happy,” he says, low and slow, rolling out the words almost lazily.

“You already know I am.”

I pull back and through the haze of tears, Raiden looks different. Softer. Gentler. Happy too . it looks good on him. So beautiful on his already gorgeous, sharp features.

“I don’t want to leave here.” I smooth my fingertip over the bite mark on his shoulder. “Christ. I’m sorry.”

He glances at it and smirks back at me. “I like you leaving your mark on me.” His cock kicks inside of me, stretching and testing my limits, which are sensitive and almost sore after that climax that just rocked through me. I moan in response, wriggling against him.

One hand splays over my back and the other is at my hip. His holding me like that, like he can frame my entire body in just the width of his hands, is the most delicious thing I’ve known. Feeling safe, understood, protected, seen, wanted, is so much more than just coming. Climaxing is biology. It’s this sweet aftermath that makes me see stars.

“You don’t want to go back, we won’t. This party was about celebrating living and I’m happy to do that inside of you for the rest of the night.”

My heart turns over before I can stop it, falling and knocking hard. I press my forehead against his in assent before I fuse my mouth with his in further agreement.