Raiden (Satan’s Angels MC #2)

Chapter 20

Raiden

I t might make me a bastard, but I love the way Widow struggles to take my cock into her mouth. I only love it because she looks up at me with determination and watches me watching her while she wraps one fist tight around the base of me.

She might have struggled to take much of me in her mouth a second ago, but she’s going to make this good and she can do that in other ways besides taking me down her throat.

I groan again, unbidden, as she works her hand down my shaft and eyes me greedily, like she’s planning her method of attack. She’s not talking about an assault on one club or other or a potential war still looming over us. She’s not trying to figure out how we can all get out alive. She’s down on her knees before me like she’d worship me alone, her god of carnal pleasure and sin. It rocks through me. I know I’m not worthy of her adoration by half.

I jackknife forward at the pleasure of her tongue coming out to lick my tip. She sucks just that first part of me into her mouth, rolling her tongue around me, working me with her hand at the same time until I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my life.

When she came to me, I had visions of her leaving and all of this being over, but it was me she sought out, clearly in pain and distress. I might not be able to make it better for her, especially not instantly, but I can stand at her side and try to get through this with her together.

It makes this so much hotter now, her trying so eagerly to take more of my cock, getting on her knees before in a position of trust and surrender.

She takes more of me in her mouth, even though it’s a struggle. She works hard at it, a line of drool pooling at the corner of her mouth. She shifts her hand from the base of me to stroke my balls, fondling their heavy weight, working me with her tongue.

I’m a half-spent mess of electric currents already and she’s barely even started.

I wonder if she truly knows just how far gone I am for her, and not just physically.

She works me back and forth with her mouth, taking as much as she can, using her hands, fisting my shaft and grabbing my balls with the other. She’s so fully invested that it sets flames roaring over my skin, consuming me to my bones and resounding with the percussion of an explosion in my soul.

I dig my hands into her luxurious hair, still slightly damp from the shower she must have had. I can tell she came straight to me after that call, so it must have happened when she was getting ready to go to dinner with my family tonight. She’s not ready to come out and say that she wants to be a part of us, just my dad, Gray, Lark, Penny, and me, but she was making the effort and that both swells and hurts my heart all the more.

If I hadn’t wanted to kill Zale Grand before, I do now, just for hurting and manipulating a good woman he should be loving and protecting instead.

She came to me with this. She could have tried to fix it herself, but instead she let me share this burden. It’s not always the good times that speak to trust. Unburdening your soul is a level far beyond simple shining happiness.

She takes more than just the tip of me into her mouth, struggling until she gets me to the back of her throat. She pulls back before she gags, pretty much strangles my cock with her hands, and does things to my balls that send electric impulses straight from the soles of my feet.

She tries to suck me back again, but whatever she’s doing to my balls is going to flip me inside out. I’m not going to bust a nut in her mouth, but I need a five second breather if I’m going to continue this. It’s amazing how just the sight of her on her knees, trying so hard to please me, is enough to make me want to come by itself.

“Widow.”

When she looks up at me, I tug her up and spin her around, sitting her down on the edge of the table. A few pages flutter to the ground, but I was lucky enough to find a mostly bare spot.

She claws my face to her, grasping me by one ear and dragging me to her mouth. I can taste the salt of me on her tongue as I stroke it with mine. She moans, parting her legs for me as I unzip her jeans and wrench them down her legs. I handle her boots and shed the denim, then tuck my fingers under the nearly non-existent elastic of her panties and pull them off with a snap.

Her, naked, already swollen, slick, and pink, is the most gorgeous miracle and she’s chosen to bless me with it.

I probably look like a desperate mess, standing here half dressed, but I don’t get time to think about that. She fists the front of my shirt, locks her legs around my waist, takes my cock and notches it to her entrance.

I haven’t warmed her up at all. She’s wet, but is she that wet? I want to make sure she’ll be okay, taking all of me, but when I try to run my fingers down her slit to tease her and test her, she knocks my hand away, takes my dick, and wriggles until the head of my cock is stretching her wide.

“Holy Christ, Ella.”

“Yeah.” She reaches around me and grabs my ass, sinking her nails in. “I love being stretched by you.”

I have to push inside. She’s using her hand, her legs, her heels, and rocking her hips, to try and get me to fill her up. I still go slow so that I don’t hurt her. Even if it’s that twinge of pain that she wants, there’s a limit. It takes a fuck of a lot of concentration to keep from pistoning inside of her like an out-of-control machine when the tight heat of her closes around my cock. She squeezes the life out of me as I press forward, giving her my cock inch by inch in a slow and sensual sort of dance.

She throws back her head, eyes shining bright vivid green around the huge black pupils as she looks up at me from the oddest angle. It’s like she can’t hold up the weight of her own head, lost to the sensations.

“You okay?” Her face looks half pinched, half pleasureful. I’m almost buried to the hilt in her and checking in when she feels this tight is a must.

“Raiden…” She whimpers. “Yes, yes, yes. Fine. Yes. Very. Fine. Very… full.”

“Fuck.” I grasp her hips and jack my hips forward and back, sawing in and out of her, taking away my cock and filling her completely full again. I swear that my vision blacks out as she starts moving with me, changing her position slightly so she can support herself with her palms flat against my chest.

“Fuck yes, yes,” she chants.

I pull out so only the tip of my dick is inside of her and let us both watch me push inside. I can see her stretched to the limit around my cock before I pull out and seat myself deep inside of her again. She tucks her face against my neck, scraping her teeth into tender skin, panting and whining and going wild as I lose control of my own rhythm and start thrusting wildly and messily.

I feel like I’m marking her. Not branding her like a caveman, not possessing her, but giving her the gift of some not so tiny pieces of me that I would never have had the courage to show to anyone. She’s seen some pretty shitty parts of me and hasn’t gone running. She’s coming to me with the darkness in her own soul, or at least the things that are troubling her mind. Sleeping in my bed and starting to share in my life at the club, taking the first steps to befriend my sister after saving her—that’s all more intimate than what we’re doing, but combined? This is so much more than just some raw animal fuck where I fill her with my seed, call it a job well done, and puff out and beat my chest at mere biology.

She’s clinging to me tight right now and that’s a gift. That’s more than just fucking.

It’s her heart beating so hard and close to mine that has me wanting to come before I feel her grinding on my cock and then her hot, tight pussy clamping around me like it could strangle the life out of me.

The way she arches straight into my arms, relying on me to keep her upright and safe, reaches in and touches my soul. She came here to me because she wants to find shelter in me the way I’ve found it in her in the past.

The most unlikely sources, both of us, but it works.

It’s her trusting me with her body that’s sacred, not the fact that I’m coming so deep inside of her that I could very well be marking her with my cum. That feels right, but not as right as her breath against my neck, her closeness, her openness, her putting her future in the calloused palms of the hands of an ex-con whose own parents once didn’t want him. The world wouldn’t find a lot of worth in me past this club, but she does.

I still want to put a bullet in Zale’s head or a knife straight in his heart, but as horrible as he made my life by sending me to prison, he also gave me the greatest gift. Maybe it was unwitting, maybe it was fuckery, but whatever it was, he gave his daughter like a sacrifice to this club and I’m honored to even get the chance to know the woman she is.

I’m still moving softly inside of her, thrusting gently even though I’m spent, and I can feel the hot wetness of our cum combining inside of her.

It nearly knocks me on my ass when she looks up at me with her huge eyes filled with emotion. They say so much, all the things she can’t or won’t voice out loud.

After I pull out, I smooth my hand over her seam, tucking my cum back inside of her. “I’ll carry you to the shower.” I wrecked her panties like an asshole. There’s no way I’m letting her walk through this club leaking my cum out of her. I can see the base attraction of every single man knowing that she’s mine, but not like that.

She looks up at me with heavy lidded eyes still hazy with pleasure. “But you hate showers.”

“I don’t hate them half as much with you.”

“That’s… incredibly sweet. Careful, or you might turn into a romantic.”

“There are so many things you don’t know about me.” I’m more than confident enough in my masculinity to admit to it. “I did a lot of research about flowers for my mom, so I’m pretty knowledgeable when it comes to gardens. I can name just about anything you’d find at the greenhouse.”

“And you like getting your nails painted.”

I feel the flush of something that isn’t a blush and feels a fuck of a lot more like happiness. “I like making my niece happy. Nothing’s better than little kid giggles. Building a happy childhood is everything.”

She gives me that look again—half troubled and resistant, and half hopeful. I don’t know if I do a proper job of shooting it back. I never saw a man like me needing anyone past my club brothers, but there I was, primed and ready for a match for my heart without even knowing it.

“I agree.” She strokes my cheek gently, turning my face to her. “Let’s have that shower. I want to believe in a happily ever after for this place, or at least some version of peace before the next threat pops up.”

She doesn’t say she wants it for herself. Just for the club, but that means more than anything. I can’t go underneath her skin and heal the wounds there, but when I’m with her, I realize that all the shit in my head and the noise in my soul go quiet. I’d do pretty much anything to give her that same sense of noiselessness, and that’s how I know that I’m beyond the stage of falling into straight trouble.