Ransomed MC Princess #1 (12 page)

“Hey, Princess,” he whispers as his calloused thumb moves down my cheek to my bottom lip. “Look at me.”

I peek at him.

“We don’t have to do this tonight.” His tongue slips between his lips as he pulls them into a cocky smile. “I’ll be happy to finish you off with my mouth.”

My poor heart’s beating so hard I feel like I’m gonna pass out! “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But, if you’re up for it, we can try. I’ll go slow.” He shifts, and the tip of his magnificent shaft slides up my slip to my clit—large, hot, hard as steel. I moan, wrapping my legs around his hips.

“You trust me, Princess?”

Did I trust him? I’d embarrassed the club by dancing dirty in front of everyone, I’d stolen Damien’s bike and totaled it, I’d then gone off and “done things” with the president of a rival MC, and…well, Damien hadn’t killed me yet. That counted for something, right?

“’Cause if you do,” he continues, “I think you can take it.”

My body makes my decision for me. My mind might be afraid, but a part of me needs this. It wants it more than anything. I grab his shoulders, bringing him down close so my lips are by his ear. “Let’s see what you can do.”

“Is that a challenge, Princess?”

A thrill shoots through me. Did I just issue him a challenge? The guy who I’ve listened to push countless women to the edge of sanity nightly for god knows how many years? When I’m a
freaking virgin
no less? My cheeks and body on fire when I look at him. There’s still a bit of cockiness in his features. I want to see that cockiness disappear—I want to know what’s underneath.

“Hell yeah it’s a challenge,” I tell him.

His mask slips off, revealing the dark, powerful man beneath. His eyes take me in with raw lust as he grabs breasts. His rough thumbs brush over my nipples before grabbing my hips as he mounts me. My cunt tightens in shock around the head of his dick. The movement pulls him in deeper. He kisses me and he thrusts in, cock pushing into my pussy, tongue slipping into my mouth.

There’s no barrier—I guess years of riding motorcycles did away with that nuisance—but it’s still too much. I grip his strong arms, crying out as my body accepts him. “Oh God.”

He inches into me, my whole world changing, filling with him. “God damn you’re tight. So fuckin’ tight.”

I imbed my fingernails into his tattoos, biting his shoulder. He pulls out, then sinks into me again, this time going deeper. Again and again, driving into me with a precision and agonizingly slow speed that drives me crazy. The boundary between pleasure and pain disintegrates. I can’t stand it and I can’t get enough. I whimper, begging for it—for
all
of it. I loop my ankles around his back, trying to push him further into me.

“God damn woman, you’re makin’ this hard,” he rasps.

“Making what hard?” I make out just barely.

His hands cup my face, drawing it away from his shoulder and close to him. Our noses almost touch. His lips are over mine, not quite kissing. “Goin’ slow. Makin’ love to you instead of just fuckin’.”

Fuckin’
. My pussy tightens. Coming from his mouth, that word is so beautifully, wonderfully filthy.

“Why would you do a thing like that?” I whisper. “I said I wanted to see what you could do.”

He looks down at me with that same piercing, uncontrollable darkness. No—a darkness that only seemed uncontrollable. He was holding back for me, and so I could also unleash it.

“I thought you said you were going to make it so that every time I lie down in this bed I can’t think of anything but your hands, your tongue…” my eyes dip, following the tattoos that curl down his torso ending in a V and that epic part of him that’s buried in me only half way, “…and your cock.”

His breathing quickens. His gaze sharpens.

It’s dangerous to play with something this wild. My core trembles with a knowledge my mind doesn’t yet understand. But I want him—
all
of him—even the parts that scare me.

No,
especially
the parts that scare me.

I want to know everything that he’s kept hidden from me. I want to feel it. I want to revel in it.

I want to possess it.

His hands move to my hips. His grip is almost bruising. Instinctively my legs open wider and I pull myself tighter around him. He growls softly, pushing into me, his fingers digging into my hips beneath the bone. I tilt my pelvis up to meet his. He stills for a moment, shoulders tightening like a gun cocking, before rolling forward in one fluid, lethal motion.

I scream as he fills me to the hilt.

Oh. My. God.

I’m afraid to look down. There’s no way he could have fit that huge cock inside me. But I know he did. His pelvis pushes against my clit, and…and…

The bedsprings have stopped squeaking. The entire room goes silent except the sound of our breathing. I open my eyes to find him looking down at me, gaze dark and full of possession. Hours ago, that darkness had frightened me. Now, it feeds something inside me that is just as dark.

He pulls out, then crashes into me. I grip the pink bed sheets as that exquisite ache comes back with a vengeance. He grabs my left leg and lifts it so my calf is splayed across his chest and my ankle is by his collarbone. I can’t believe how tight that motion pulls me. I cry out as he quickens his pace, angling himself so he can have me without any restrictions.

“You’ve got such a perfect cunt.” I watch his six pack flex as he pummels my soft body. I love it when he whispers crass words, when he calls me perfect. I bite my lower lip. My headboard knocks against the wall in a constant, relentless rhythm, just like his does almost every night when he’s with one of his girls.

Now, I’m one of them too.

His fingers dig into my thigh. He kisses my ankle. His hot breath runs down my leg, making me shiver. At the same time he pushes back my other knee, pinning it to the bed. “You like gettin’ fucked like this don’t you, my perfect, dirty princess?” There’s no judgment in his eyes. No distaste. Just raw lust, like the fact I want to get fucked hard turns him on more than anything else in the world.

His thrusts grow quicker. His muscles straining as he dominates me, the mark his cock is making on my soul more permanent than a tattoo. “You’re everything I’ve I ever wanted. Every fuckin’ night I’ve dreamed this—of makin’ you mine.”

His admission sounds so honest, so close to something almost…pure. Our tattoos seem connected, like they’re twisting us closer. In the dark, with his body over mine, it’s hard to see where his tattoos end and mine begin.

There’s nothing but him in this moment. Raw and beautiful, feral and skilled. The feeling of being stretched and filled, of being taken so completely…it feels so close to love.

“Look at me, Princess. I want to see your eyes when you cum.”

There’s a desperation behind his words and within me, like we’re both taking something we’re too afraid to ask for.

“Cum for me, princess,” he whispers.

I look into his eyes for as long as I can as he drives into me. And then I disintegrate into that sharp, piercing, overwhelming pleasure. My vision clouds. I can’t keep my eyes open I whimper in his arms as he whispers reassuring and dirty things.

Just like that, Princess
.

Let go for me. Cum for me
.

I scream, my cunt convulsing around him as he continues to fuck, moving even faster, adding to that sweet friction until his grip on me grows almost too tight. I’m undone, a beautiful mess in his arms as he shatters me and puts me back together again. Nothings ever been like this—I don’t think anything will ever be like this again.

“Stay with me,” he rasps, but I can’t. The world goes white, then black—a thousand stars exploding with new life—bliss and pain blurring together until the distinction doesn’t matter. And at that moment, I feel as perfect and as complete as he says I am.

He inhales sharply and spills himself into me, thrusts slowing as we both come back down to earth. He kisses my ankle, the inside of my calf, his rough hands a beautiful contrast to his soft lips, both touching me so softly I can’t believe this is the same man who ruthlessly fucked me not even a minute before.

And then he falls next to me. He rests his head on the same pillow my head’s resting on and wraps his arms around my stomach. “Hey.”

The sweat cools on my body. My hair’s plastered to my neck, face, and chest. I can’t stop panting. And while that much-needed oxygen fills my lungs, my brain starts working.

I just got fucked by Damien.

Controlling, dominant, irritating, insatiable Damien.

In
my
bed.

Slowly, I sneak a peek at him. His dark eyes take in my naked body. He moves his hand over my body with a predatory satisfaction, like he’s happy it’s finally his. I glance down his tattooed, perfect, sculpted body to his…

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

His cock is still huge. He’s a shower and a grower. And, somehow, I had that
in
me.

I can’t believe we got all that in me!

I reach for my poor pink sheet to pull it over my body. Damien grabs my wrist, stopping me. “Hey, what’s that about?”

“Um, what’s what about?”

“Why do you want to hide yourself from me?”

I still can’t bring myself to look at him. “I’m cold.”

“Are you really cold, or is it something else?”

I can feel my eyes bulging. Is he really asking me that question?

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispers as I shiver. He kisses my temple and hugs me closer. “Don’t worry, Princess. It will just keep getting better and better.”

What will keep getting better and better? Sex? Why is he talking like we’re going to do this again? I thought this was just an opportunity to, I don’t know, “fuck out” our problems because we apparently couldn’t talk them out.

“Princess,” he whispers, lips curling into a dark, demonic grin.

I don’t like the looks of that grin. I like even less the affect it’s having on me. Why the hell is my body demanding we go again, right now, after all that?

“Want me to show you, Princess?”

“Show me what?” I squeak.

In one swift movement he’s back on top of me, pinning my hands above my head. I whimper, spreading my legs so he can slide back in between them.

“I can’t believe how dirty you are,” he growls. “How insatiable.”

“You sure you aren’t just talking about yourself?”

“Oh, I already knew I was both those things, Princess. And I already knew I’d never be able to get enough of you.” His eyes darken and my body goes weak from the knowledge of the pleasure that’s coming. “I just never, not even in my dirtiest, most insatiable dreams, allowed myself think you’d be the same.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.” He kisses my jaw. “You’re too fuckin’ perfect. Now, I’ll never be able to be a good man, Princess. I don’t think I can ever let you go.”

Never let me go? Wait, what the fuck is he talking about? Before I can ask his mouth moves down my neck, in between my breasts, to my stomach. I arch my back, pushing my cunt into his chest, crying out as I grab the sheets.

Oh God, I want it so bad, there’s nothing on this earth that can stop me from fucking him again right now, right here.

And then, we hear a cough at the door.

I shriek, pulling the sheet over my body. Damien gets up and leaps in front of me. I’m staring at Damien’s tight, naked ass.

Ryder groans, shielding his eyes. “What the fuck, man? Put on some clothes.”

“The fuck you doin’ here?” Damien bellows.

“I’m picking up your sorry ass. God damn! You need to lock the door next time or somethin’. Would have fuckin’ knocked but…
what the fuck
did you do to your doors?”

Damien doesn't want to talk abut the doors. “You have five seconds to get your ass out of here,” he growls.

“So do you,” Ryder counters. “Prez needs you.”

I gasp. Oh my god, what if my dad knows what Damien and I just did? Damien's ass cheeks clench.

‘It’s not, uh, this,” Ryder continues awkwardly. “It’s the Judas’ Sons MC.”

“What the fuck about them?” Damien asks, voice deadly.

“They’ve decided to accept the peace treaty. Not sure what’s changed, but it’s happening. Everyone needs to be at the barn. Now.”

***

Thank you for reading
Ransomed MC Princess #1
, the first book in my new serial!

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-Vivian

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***

Copyright

Ransomed MC Princess #1

Copyright © 2014 Vivian Cove. All rights reserved.

Cover © 2014 Vivian Cove. Cover stock: Portrait of a Couple © zastavkin; Rough Ink and Paint Texture Background © wingnutdesigns; Textures © Lil’ Owls; Tattoo art, 3 demons © outsiderzone. Fonts: Hoverage and Rocking Bones © Swist Blnk. These cover elements were purchased from stock and design sites. The designers do not endorse Vivian Cove or her work.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.