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“I know we shouldn’t do this,” I murmured against his hot skin, caught in the heat of the moment yet still acutely aware of the implications of our actions as his hard cock was heavy at my entrance.
“We’ve already crossed a dozen lines this morning, Star. What’s one more?” he whispered back, his breath hot against my ear, sending tingles all over me.
It was reckless, it was dangerous, and it went against everything I thought I stood for. I was in bed with the enemy. A biker president from a rival club who my president just warned me about, to beat all. But at that very moment, nothing else seemed to have any significance. All that existed was the overwhelming desire that coursed through me, the longing to experience something other than the constant pressure of my life. The need to feel Hudson, Riptide inside me once and for all, damn the consequences.
It was nothing like I had ever imagined. I fantasized about my bully taking me against the wall, in secret. Somewhere in public. Quick and dirty, like an attack. Lifting up my skirt and surprising me. Anything but as intimate as this was. Two consenting adults in bed, taking the plunge for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime of advances. Rekindling a flame, I thought, had long gone so cold it no longer existed. Yet, here it was, burning as bright as ever, scorching deep within my belly as he waited for permission.
Well, sort of waited. Sort of asked.
“Tell me your mine, Star.”
I only made a noise as he rubbed my clit with the head of his dick.
“I’m going to make you mine. Gonna destroy your pussy and show you what you’ve been missing your whole damn life. You won’t be able to have another man after I get through with you.”
What could I say? My pussy wanted to be pulverized more than anything in the world. And I knew his dick. More than impressive in size, it had choked me plenty of times. I knew I was in for a hell of a ride. The woman I was now was more than ready for it. And even though I knew the error of telling a biker like Riptide, I belonged to him, even at his insistence, I uttered the words, my voice begging him to destroy my pussy.
“I’m yours, Riptide,” I sang, pleading for him to get on with it.
Opening my knees, I let him in. Let him fill me. Biker didn’t even think about protection as he punched in raw and deep. One hand clutching the headboard, and one gripping my shoulder, he had me right where he wanted me. At his mercy, as he moved within me. My toes dug into his back as I’d lifted my knees to accommodate his size. Oh, he was huge and skilled and was killing me in the best way. His dick was destroying me, terminating all my defenses, making me a blubbering, vulnerable mess as he conquered my body and heart at the same time.
“Star, you feel so good. Like all I ever dreamed,” he said as he murdered my pussy.
I couldn’t say a word under him and under his spell.
The sounds escaping me though betrayed my guards.
“Come for me, baby,” Riptide cooed, slowing down, and moving with purpose.
He was finishing me off.
Clutching the back of his head, like my life depended on it, I moved too. As we moved together, lost in the depth of our connection, I kept thinking what this meant for us, for the tenuous peace between our clubs. The risk we were taking, the fire we were playing with, it could burn us both. But none of it mattered as an orgasm took me up into heaven itself.
The tender kisses he showered me with afterwards was the icing on the cake. Lying there, in the aftermath of our passion, the complexity of our relationship lay bare between us. The blinds were open casting a soft light into the room, illuminating the tangled mess of sheets, the harsh truth of our situation. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
We were enemies by allegiance, yet bound by a history and an attraction that refused to be ignored. As Riptide held me close, I laid my head on his vast chest and listened to his heartbeat. Draping my leg over him, I realized that, despite the potential fallout, despite the danger, this forbidden flame between us was something neither of us was ready to extinguish. Not yet.
But as the world outside his apartment began to stir, the fact that we’d had sex, that we’d crossed that line, began to set in. The consequences of our actions, the potential for conflict between our clubs, loomed over us like a dark cloud. In that moment, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, I couldn’t find it within me to care. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly alive.
After the intensity of the morning spent entwined with Riptide, stepping back into the Roost was like entering a different world, a world I had momentarily set aside. The atmosphere of the clubhouse, usually so familiar and comforting, now seemed to be riddled with the complexities of my recent choices. I glanced at my phone, knowing that since Riptide and I exchanged numbers, I could be hearing from him anytime.
Rage was at the bar, a figure of strength and leadership for the Hell on Heelz MC, her presence commanding even in relaxation. Beside her was Mud, her ol’ man and the president of the Asphalt Gods MC in Arkansas, a club that had its roots tangled with ours in ways both supportive and complicated.
Observing them together, united despite the divergent paths their clubs often took, sparked a fleeting thought about the delicate balance of power and love. How did they navigate the intricacies inherent in their roles, and could Riptide and I find a similar path?
“Rage, can we talk?” The revelations I had to share were on the tip of my tongue.
With a knowing look exchanged between her and Mud, she followed me to the sanctuary of her office. The door shut with a click, sealing us away from the rest of the world.
“I was at the Serpent’s Tail last night,” I began, my words tumbling out in a rush. “And I saw Cowgirl getting cozy with Blade from the Slayers. But that’s not all… Riptide and I… we got shot at. My Harley’s wrecked.”
Rage’s reaction was immediate, her posture stiffening as the implications of my words sank in. “The Serpent’s Tail? With a Slayer?” she repeated, her tone spiked with anger and concern. “This is serious, Brat. We need to dig deep and find out what’s really going on.”
I acknowledged her directive. “Riptide thinks we’re onto something big. We might need to dig deeper together.”
Lips puckering, her gaze sharpened. The mention of Riptide triggered a protective streak. The moment I mentioned Riptide’s name and his involvement, I watched Rage’s demeanor shift, a hint of warning flickering in her eyes.
“Riptide took care of me after the crash,” I added, bracing for her response.
