Selah’s Wish (Imperial Knights MC #1)

Chapter 8

EIGHT

Butcher

This amazing woman of mine makes me feel like the king of a castle. Her imminent trust in me still astounds me to this day. After the life she lived before we found one another should’ve made this an impossible task.

Vulnerability isn’t a stance you’ll find her in often or voluntarily—only with me, and only in our bedroom where nobody can witness her giving into her innermost hidden desire. To be conquered, branded, and most of all, loved because everything between us is full of nothing less.

“Fuck. What you do to me, woman,” I acknowledge, putting my knees on the bed and shuffling my way to her.

“I give myself to you willingly and freely because I love and trust you, Butcher,” she states, wiggling her ass in the air.

If there’s ever been an invitation so enticing and encompassing, I can’t remember it.

All I can see is her.

My life.

My everything.

My Selah, offering herself to me with no trepidation.

“Damn, Lah. You make me crazy sometimes,” I admit, lining the head of my dick up with her opening and slowly pushing myself inside of her sheath.

Before her, I wasn’t a man who shared my emotions with others, I held them close to my chest. She’s opened the vault that held them locked inside and they pour out in rivulets whenever she says something so damn sweet it makes my teeth ache.

My breath hitches alongside hers when I bottom out inside of her. Tilting my head back to where I’m staring at the ceiling, I take a brief second to get myself under control so I don’t shoot my load before shifting my hips and beginning a steady pace of plunging inside of her. I draw back until only the tip is inside of her before thundering back in.

“Yes.” Selah hisses, burying her face deeper into the pillow. My fingers dig into her sides, where I’m sure she’ll be wearing my prints tomorrow, and swivel my midsection, hitting every nerve ending inside of her.

As I pick up the pace and become lost in a rut like haze, I start chasing our combined pleasure.

Her chimes of, “yes,” and “don’t stop,” encourage me to piston into her deeper and faster. This is going to be a fast act, one full of need and connection. Neither of us appear to be anxious to draw it out, so I don’t take my time like I normally would, we don’t want that.

After getting the news about everything that’d been hidden from me, I was detaching from myself, from reality, and from my life. Desperation to feel this link to my woman is what kept me from falling over that cliff. She was and is my salvation from the darkness that always tries to drag me into the pits of hell.

Screams and moans of satisfaction ring through my ears as I feel Selah’s walls clamp down on me, drawing my balls up as cum shoots out of my cock, painting her insides.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant as I fall onto her back, both of us collapsing as we fight to draw oxygen into our lungs. Not wanting to squish her between me and the mattress, I fall to my side, rolling her with me so we’re still connected in the most carnal way a man can be with his woman.

“I love you, Lah.”

“Love you too, biker man,” she mumbles.

Soon after both of our breathing evens out and we fall asleep, neither one of us interested in breaking apart from the other. Things will be messy in the morning, and we’ll have to strip the sheets and replace them but it’ll be worth it.

“It has to be RiffRaff,” Wrecker says, adamant that it’s the way it has to be.

“Why him?” I ask, confused because the man has been through hell and back. Putting him in this position feels cruel. I don’t want the weight of this task to be on his shoulders.

“Because he’s one of us and they won’t be looking for him. Think about it, Butcher. On paper, he has dementia. Everyone thinks he’s lost in his head and hasn’t regained his faculties. They’ve all but dismissed him as a threat. If my sources are right, his file has been shredded, they won’t know his face or know about his association to the club.”

“Brick’s going to have a shit fit if we send his dad out there without telling him why,” I press, thinking this idea needs to be explored further.

“There’s a reason he won’t think twice about it,” Wrecker reassures me.

“What would that be?” I wonder, thinking the first night with his son has his synapses misfiring. I remember those days and how lack of sleep can come close to making one hallucinate.

“It’s not my business to share, Butcher,” Wrecker admonishes. “It’s not a secret, nothing that could harm the club, but he’s not ready to spread it outside of a few people. We need to respect his privacy.”

“RiffRaff’s got himself a woman, doesn’t he?” I cheekily ask. It has to be, that’s the only thing I can think of because RiffRaff is close to the members of the Roanoke chapter, most especially his son and he doesn’t usually keep anything from them. But sometimes, when a man finds himself a woman that he wants to claim for himself, he isn’t always ready to put her on display. There are times we have to coax a woman to accept our lifestyle because it’s not for everyone, and sometimes, we’re just stingy motherfuckers who don’t want to share their time.

“In due time, he’ll loosen his lips and we’ll know for sure.” Wrecker chuckles before he sends me a reassuring smile, one that tells me I’m on the right track with my thinking.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I whistle. “Go, RiffRaff.”

“I didn’t confirm anything,” Wrecker defends.

“You didn’t deny it either,” I state, laughing.

“Fuck you,” Wrecker chuckles.

“No thanks. I did that with your sister last night and my dick’s a little sore,” I tease.

“Shit,” he hisses, giving me a narrow eyed look. “That’s my sister, motherfucker. There are things a brother doesn’t need to know about when it comes to his sister and her relationship. In case you were wondering, that’s one of those things that shouldn’t be talked about. Fuck, I’m gonna need a bleach bath because my skin is crawling with that vision floating through my head. You’re an asshole, you know that right?”

“I’ve never pretended to be anything else,” I confirm, slapping him on his back. “So, six weeks, huh?”

“I’m gonna buy you a one way ticket to hell, Butcher,” he vehemently says, punching me on the shoulder blade.

“Been there, done that, have the scars to prove it,” I counter, punching him back.

“Haven’t we all,” he complains. “Okay, if we’re done with this little pow wow, I’m heading back to be with my old lady and son.”

He stands up and begins walking away. Not wanting him to have the last word, I call out, “Keep the sunny side up, brother. Heaven isn’t too far away; I know because I visited it last night between your sister's legs.”

He stumbles before he tosses his middle finger up in the air over his shoulder. All the way home I chuckle. Getting one over my brothers always lightens my mood.