Alejandro: Padre Knights MC (20 page)

There is something different in Ali’s eyes
, he thought to himself. She looked freer, stronger, clearer than she ever had before, even when they were kids and she thought they’d be together forever. He’d always known better. He’d known she was destined for someone better than him, brighter than him. But here she was, ready to fall into his arms all over again. He said a silent prayer of thanks and told himself that he’d spend the rest of his life figuring out how to be worthy of this gift. He’d clean up the Padres, if that’s what it took, or make an honest woman out of her, or whatever she wanted. He’d protect her any way she wanted. If she wanted.

His hands were covered in his friends’ blood. When he’d gotten to the warehouse, Zig had been holding Crapper’s hand. He’d never thought he’d see so much destruction in one place. So many men, their faces and bodies torn up by bullets. He’d seen violence before—that part wasn’t new to him. Not really. But
his
friends,
his
men, the men he should have been protecting.

He’d made Zig call 9-1-1. He hadn’t wanted to, but want he’d said downstairs was true. Even though he knew precisely how dirty the Sheriff was, there was no way to cover this up, not from his end. And some of the guys were still breathing. If they were going to survive, they would need actual medical treatment.

While they put pressure on wounds with whatever they could find, the thought of Ali had finally flickered through his head. He’d been loud about their breakup, and the papers had been loud about the wedding, but that didn’t mean it had been enough that the Diablos would stay away from her. He had no idea where she’d gone after she’d left the church with the woman from the project day, but the ranch was the only place the Diablos would have known to look for her. If she wasn’t there, she was safe, and if she was there, she might need his protection. So he’d jumped on his bike and roared back through town for the third time that day.

Zig had understood. Zig had told him to go. But he still felt like he’d needed to abandon one love to look out for the other.

He pushed it out of his mind and focused on scrubbing other people’s blood out from under his fingernails. Ali was sitting on a small bench, watching him. He surveyed his face in the mirror to keep from falling into the delicious cleavage the corset created. He felt her eyes meet his in the mirror, and he wondered what she saw when she looked at him. Strong jaw, prominent cheekbones, ruggedly handsome? What did she think of his wind-tanned skin, his dark eyes, and his smooth cheeks?

“I’m thinking about how incredibly handsome you are,” she said, responding to the thought he hadn’t voiced aloud. “And wondering why you chose me.”

His hands were clean now, and he’d gotten the smears off his face and cheeks. He turned to her, and let the light and the love she inspired in him shine through to his eyes. “Because you’re brave and strong and beautiful. You make me want to be worthy of you.”

Ali stood, letting her hips sway just a little bit extra as she walked toward Alejandro. “I didn’t leave him for you,” she said quietly.

He nodded. His hands were folded in front of him, his fingers tight together. “I know.”

She took a washcloth from the cabinet, wet it, and started to wipe off the smears that had hit his neck, the backs of his arms, the places he couldn’t see. “I left for me. So I could find my own self.”

“I understand.”

“I want you in my life. But that’s not the same. You understand?”

“I do.”

She let the silence speak for her for a bit as she ran the cloth over his body, cleaning away the dark splashes and smears of the darker life he led. He’d shucked off his jeans on the way upstairs, and he stood before her in his boxers, his cock eager and hard, but his hands were carefully neutral, letting her do what she needed to do before he moved. She liked that. Appreciated it. She ran her hands over the tattoos, the ink that had somehow not faded, even though he’d had the work done ages ago. But then, their feelings for each other hadn’t faded either, had they? They’d intensified, deepened, matured. But they’d never managed to fade. Sometimes, she thought it would be better if they had. Easier.

She let the cloth fall away, and traced the planes of his body with just her hands. Everything had been so frantic, so urgent with him, she’d never taken the time to get reacquainted with his body. As a girl, she hadn’t really known better, and now, he’d hardened over the time they spent apart. The softness he’d still had in his late teens had melted away, replaced with firm lines, solid muscle, and a man’s confidence.

“You still like what you see?” he asked after a little while.

She looked up into his eyes, and saw so much contained within them. Love and lust, but darkness, heat, and a certain surety that he would do whatever was necessary to come out on top. To protect those he cared about. That was why he’d pushed her away before, and why he’d come back to her.

“Can you stay the night?” she asked.

He paused for a little while, something quiet settling over his features before he smiled. “If you want me to, baby.”

She leaned up into him, pressing her lips to his in answer.

His restraint held for just a moment, and then he was in rapid motion, fast and hard. He scooped her breasts out of the cups of the corset, bending down over her and licking the rapidly-hardening peaks as he pushed her back against the vanity. She spread her thighs, making room for him, and he lifted her up, depositing her butt on the sink. She wrapped her legs around him and sighed as he took her nipple into his mouth, suckling it hard, grazing it with his teeth, while the other hand twisted and teased at her other nipple. She was dripping, soaking, and she let herself shift against him, enjoying the sensation of his thick heat pressing against the seam of her body.

“Remember,” she gasped. “Quiet.”

He growled into her skin, and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. “Make sure
you
remember,” he said. He lifted her again, and the capris slid down her hips, which he tossed into the corner. “Happy wedding night, Miss Owens,” he said.

At first, she was shocked he’d say such a thing, but she saw the calculation in his eyes. She gave him a grin and wrapped her legs around him again, tugging him one layer closer to her core and watching his eyes burn. “I don’t think I’m ever getting married, Alejandro. I want to be my own woman, and I don’t know how to do that unless I’m on my own.”

He gave her a smile that was softer than anything she’d seen on his face since he came back into her life. “I understand that better than you think,” he said. “This is on your terms, Ali. It always will be. I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, and if it gets too dark, then you walk. But I’ll trust you. I should have in the first place.”

She ground against him, feeling the heat and the electric surge of her body in response to him. “Bedroom,” she said. “Now. Right now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, and she laughed as he picked her up and carried her into the room. He tossed her on the bed hard enough that she bounced, and she giggled a little. She rolled onto her stomach and reached towards the nightstand to turn off the bedroom light, and then felt his hands on her hips. “Oh, that’s nice, Ali. That’s very nice.” She felt the press of his cock—he’d shed his shorts by now, she was sure of it—against the thin fabric of her satin panties. They were bright white, matching the corset, and something about her bent over like this for him, on her hands and knees, his hands pulling her towards him as he stroked himself over her crease was shockingly intense. “Leave the light on. Do you mind?”

“No,” she whispered, even though something inside of her was curling up in surprise and shock. They’d had so many different encounters in so many different places. Why was she blanching at him seeing her in the well-lit bedroom?

He skimmed her panties down over her hips, and she sighed slightly. Having her ass presented to him like this seemed like something out of a porn flick, especially as he started running his hands over her curves. “I love this,” he said. “I love seeing you all splayed out in front of me like this. You okay?”

“Yes,” Ali said, even though her cheeks were bright red and flaming hot. “Don’t you want me to take off the corset?”

He laughed. “Not at all. Seeing you, all tied up like this, seeing your tits all bound up—hot as hell, baby. I want to fuck you from here, see you come all shaking and shuddering, see your tits bouncing, about to fall right out of the cups of that thing.” His thumb parted her lips and slid easily into her aching wetness, brightening a darkness she hadn’t even known was in her heart until that moment. She groaned and drove herself back onto his hand, whimpering as he took it away from her again, chuckling. “Remember, baby, you’re the one who said we had to be quiet. Can I trust you?”

She was quiet, gasping, aching. He squeezed one side of her ass, almost pinching, and she whimpered again, but she choked the sound off by pressing her face into the mattress.

“Can I trust you, Ali? Can I trust you to be quiet?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said. And then the tip of him pressed into her, hot and wet and eager, and she grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, smashing her face into it to muffle the groans that she couldn’t contain. She was soaked and eager, but his thumb had done nothing to open her up, so he moved forward in slow, soft, smooth strokes that drove her totally insane.

“I have a question for you,” he said quietly, his tone doing nothing to betray that he was buried to the hilt inside of her body, sparking a series of urgent sensations that she was quite sure were going to make her scream before she was done.

“Ask,” she gasped.

“Did Bobby ever take you like this? With the lights on, with his pretty little Texas Rose bent over, her ass in his face, pretty as you please?” She felt his thumb, higher than her entrance, tracing around the puckered center of her ass. She stifled another groan at the same time that her cheeks got even redder.

“No,” she whispered. “No, he was— no.”

“Do you want me to?” His tone was still completely conversational, at total odds with the pace of his cock, driving into her, splitting her apart. “Do you want me to call you a dirty slut, make you mine, even if it’s just for now, just for while we’re in this bed?”

This was a side of her Alejandro that she had never seen before, and she was more than a little worried that she was going to set the bed on fire from the blood scorching her face, but she nodded. God help her, she nodded. “Okay,” she said.

His hips sped up, and she had to choke back the groans as the sensations swirled, faster and harder. He leaned forward, one hand still balancing on her hips, the other finding the tip of her breast where it was barely contained within the cups of her corset, as he’d predicted. He savaged it with his fingers while he whispered to her. “God, you want it, you want it so much, my thick cock buried in you. You’re going to come just like this, I know you are, and I’m going to feel you tight and hot around me, and I’m going to love it. And you’re not going to make a sound, because you don’t want your friend to know what we’re doing, what I’m doing to you. You don’t want her to know I have you bent over like this, begging to be fucked, begging to have me bury in you just— a little— farther—”

The orgasm came out of nowhere, slamming into her like a runaway horse. Silence wasn’t an option, so she buried her face in the pillow and gritted her teeth on the sound, swallowing it as best as she could. She felt her body clenching around Alejandro’s dick, heard him grunt and felt his hands shake as he fought to control himself.

She started to come down, swirling into the mattress, going limp, and was surprised at the sharp feeling of his hand slapping her ass. “You’re not done yet,” he said, and she chuckled.

“There were fireworks,” she said. “Did you miss it?”

“No,” he replied, his voice harsh and ragged. “I felt your pussy milking at me, I felt you grinding into me, I felt you lose control. But you always give up after one, and baby, I’m telling you—I know there’s more in you.”

“I’m fine, Alejandro, I promise,” she said, though there was a little jump of electricity in her clit at his words.

He laughed, a dark sound that surprised her, and she felt her body tighten around him. He swallowed another groan. “See? There’s more here. How about you play with yourself for me?”

“I— what?”

“I know you’ve done that before. I remember watching you, that one time in my truck, when we were kids?” His hips slammed into her fast and hard for a minute before he found his steady rhythm again. “That was gorgeous, baby. Do it for me again. In your sexy corset, while I’m fucking you, I want you to touch yourself.”

She sighed, biting her lip for a moment. She wanted to give him what he was asking for, but that want was warring against a lifetime of training about what Good Girls did. And she’d been a good girl for so long, it was hard to be— wanton. “I’ll try,” she said, finally. “If I don’t want to, I’ll say and I’ll stop.”

She felt him collapse over her for just a moment, his arms embracing her. “You sure, baby? I’m not trying to force anything.”

“I’ll try,” she said. It took a moment to arrange herself; she finally folded her left arm above her head, to raise her face and her chest out of the mattress just a bit, and then slipped her right hand back between her thighs. She couldn’t quite get her fingers where she wanted them. She let her thighs stretch just a little wider, and from the choked response from Alejandro, whatever she’d done felt great to him. And now she could touch her clit, that electric nub that she’d found often enough after Bobby had rolled over and gone to sleep, or when she needed a quick and hard orgasm on her own. But it had never felt quite like it emptied the reserve tank, just took the pressure off so she could inhale a little easier.

Sliding her finger over that taut nubbin felt completely different with his cock stretching her out so far. Tighter, tenser, more sensitive. She gasped, finding her usual pressure too gentle, and her usual rhythm way too fast.

“Feel good, Texas Rose?” His voice was tighter behind her, his fingers digging harder into her hips. “Does it feel good to follow instructions?”

“Yes,” she gasped. She could feel the pressure building in her belly, but it wasn’t quite there—she needed something more, something deeper.

And then she felt his thumb swirling through the wetness that was spilling out of her, and then pressing gently at the puckered opening of her ass. “Want this?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said again, desperate for something, anything that would drive her over the edge. The orgasm on the other side of the wall in her body was huge, oceanic, and it would swell up and surge through her and steal her mind away if she could just cross over to it.

There was a steady sense of pressure, and she relaxed against it, letting him gently spread her body open, sliding the one digit slowly into her ass. Her mouth gaped open, the sensations too intense to be expressed in sound, and even though her eyes were wide, she couldn’t see. She wanted to see Alejandro’s face, to see if he was biting his lip, trying desperately to fight back his own swelling need. His hand on her hip was so tight she was sure it would bruise, and he was slamming into her now, fast and demanding, and his thumb was starting to move in a slow rhythm, and she was full, completely full, she’d never been so full, so debased, so nakedly open in front of anyone.