Ironside: A Bad Boy Biker Romance (Heartbreakers MC Book 3) Page 9

  He reaches out a warm hand and I lean my cheek into his palm, sighing happily. He strokes my cheek softly as he regards me, an almost paternal affection in his eyes.

  “How are you feeling this morning, little one?” he asks me gruffly.

  My cheeks burn pink as I avert my eyes, but he tilts my chin to make me look at him. He won’t take nothing for an answer. His thumb traces over my bottom lip and I press a soft kiss against it, making a smile flicker on his handsome face for just one glorious moment.

  “I feel good,” I reply coyly.

  “And about last night,” he continues, staring into my eyes. “How do you feel?”

  “Good,” I answer again, blushing hotly.

  I wish I could tell him what I really feel. I wish I could show him how thankful and awed I am. How enraptured by him I have become in so short a time. But all I can manage is that one word, regrettably weak to convey my true feelings.

  “Good,” he repeats, accepting my answer as satisfactory.

  Then he stands up and offers me a hand. I gladly take it, letting him pull me out of bed and onto my feet. He looks me up and down, then hands me back my clothes. He watches me as I dutifully pull on my old, dirty clothes. I can’t just walk around half-naked, obviously.

  “We need to get you some new duds in town today,” Ironside tells me matter-of-factly.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Your clothes. You need something better than that if you’re going to ride with me, little girl,” he informs me with a smirk.

  Before I can fully react to his remark, I’m distracted by something else. My nose twitches and immediately my stomach starts to growl. I can smell salty, herby food somewhere nearby, and suddenly that’s all I can think about. I look around with almost comical desperation, and Ironside laughs.

  “Bones brought takeout breakfast. They’re eating upstairs,” he says.

  I look at him with the round eyes of a wild animal.

  “Can we?” I breathe.

  “Yes. Of course. You need a little nutrition after last night,” he says, putting an arm around my shoulders as he leads me out and up the stairs.

  We walk into the bar area to see a group of somewhat familiar faces gathered around. Everyone seems to be in a lighthearted mood, joking around and sipping what smells to me like champagne and citrus. There are takeout boxes filled with containers emitting the most incredible smells I have ever encountered. I don’t know if it’s just the sheer high quality of the food itself or if I’m just so starved for real food that my senses are heightened.

  “Well, good morning, strangers,” says one of the men I saw playing cards last night.

  “You prefer savory or sweet?” asks the one I recognize as Bones.

  “Oh, I could never choose,” I murmur, feeling almost weak with hunger.

  “I’ll do savory. She’ll do sweet. We’ll share,” Ironside decides for us.

  I give him a thankful look. At this rate, I’m so hungry all that matters is that the food is edible. And as soon as the french toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, home fries, and biscuits touch my plate I basically inhale them. As we eat, the men chat and talk shop, mostly conversation that flies a little high over my head. Besides, I’m too distracted by the food and the handsome company to really care. I do manage to weave my way in and out of the conversation now and again once I’ve eaten enough to feel almost back to normal. We joke about the weather, the food, how we all slept the night before-- it’s oddly domestic. They all get along like family or close friends, and that makes it easier for me to relax a little and even start to feel at home.

  By the time we’re done with breakfast and heading down to the room to tidy up and get ready for the day, I feel a little attached to the group. Gone is my fear and unease from yesterday. In the light of day, they all just seem like good people. And lately, I’ve been having a hard time finding good people.

  And if this group is good, then Ironside is the best of the best. We climb onto his motorcycle together and putter off down the highway toward the small town nearby. It’s a glorious sunny day and the wind whipping through my hair makes me grin like a fool. I rest my cheek against my hero’s powerful back and keep my arms happily wrapped around his waist all the way into town. It’s closer to a village than a city, with a small downtown area steeped in rich history and colonial architecture. Wyoming is a fairly threadbare state, population-wise, and this town certainly reflects that. Still, there are a few clothing shops we spend time inside, shopping around and trying on clothes. Well, more specifically, me trying on clothes that he picks out for me. The shopkeepers gush about how pretty I look, but it’s when they step away and leave me alone with Ironside that I truly feel beautiful. He compliments and encourages me, even when I feel a little silly. He convinces me that I am, in fact, desirable and worthy just the way I am.

  I love the way he watches me, pride apparent in his eyes. He spends money like it means nothing at all, buying me anything and everything I try on and love. And throughout the whole excursion, I notice him looking out for me. He is constantly checking windows and keeping an eye trained on the entrances and exits of each business. On the street, he walks me on the inside of the sidewalk, subtly shielding me with his massive body as we walk around, hand-in-hand. He redirects between shops to throw off any trail. He ducks into alleyways and checks for tailing cars here and there. I have never felt so doted upon, so safe and secure.

  It’s nearing four in the afternoon when we finally pull back up to the clubhouse. As we slide off the bike and Ironside leads me back into the building, he has a smile on his face.

  “You know, I haven’t had fun like that without the aid of bourbon or a fight in a long time,” he tells me.

  “Glad to be of service,” I toss back playfully.

  We get back to the room and he shuts the door as I adoringly lay out each new item of clothing on the bed so I can see it all and make a choice. He saunters up behind me, helping me unzip myself and try on new digs. He stands back and watches me as I pull on a floaty pink dress. He bites his lip and shakes his head, looking at me like I’m made of pure sugar.

  As he comes over to sit on the bed, I toy with the idea of toying with him. But before I even get a chance to push my luck, he pulls me into his lap, feeling me all over with those masterful hands. He leans in and kisses me hard on the neck, giving me goosebumps and making me shiver in his embrace.

  “Oh goodness,” I breathe. “I’ve wanted you to do that all day long.”

  “Mhm, baby. I know,” he purrs, grazing his teeth along my neck. “But it’s a hard road going down with you, little girl. A hard road.”

  Ironside

  I told myself I wouldn’t. I’ve done that plenty of times in my life, and I always mean it. But Justine whittles me down like nobody else has ever been able to, and something about her is so magnetic that I can’t say know, even if all my better judgment is telling me not to.

  But the warm figure sitting on my lap is just too much to resist. Worse, now she knows it--she can feel the thick trunk between my legs now, and she knows just how hard it is. She feels just how much it can swell up for her, and the way she runs her hands down my thick jeans tells me she’s still craving this as much as she was last night.

  “I don’t care if it’s not easy,” she hisses, pushing her ass back against me and grinding against my cock. “Maybe I want it hard.”

  I grin and let out a soft, low chuckle that gives her goosebumps. Her small frame is so soft and delicate that I feel like I could break her if I’m not careful. The poor thing is giving me a look that tells me she wants to be broken, but she doesn’t know what she’s asking for.

  “You’re persistent,” I growl, “I’ll give you that.”

  “I need this, Ironside,” she whimpers as I squeeze her hips. “I’ve never felt safe with anyone like I feel safe with you. I want to be good to you like you’ve been good to me.”

  The girl knew what she was about, that was for sure
. And it was hard to fault her for her feelings, all things considered. She needs someone strong in her life to have her back, and she’s dead-set on that person being me...in more ways I was expecting.

  I can’t deny my feelings anymore, not when a person like Justine is opening up to me and showing me an innocence I long since thought I’d forgotten. It hit me just then. Maybe it was something more than just the spirited personality I was really starting to like about her. I see something in her that isn’t tainted the way I am.

  There’s something so comforting about that, that it warms every nerve in my body from my heart to the tip of my cock. My hands slide up her legs, and I feel painfully sinful with every inch that they grope. She lets out a soft breath and shivers as my hands touch her.

  “I want this off,” I growl into her ear. “Take this off. All of it.”

  She nods her head softly and slowly strips her clothes off in my lap, sliding as much of it off as she can before I twist her body around to help her out of the rest, until she’s left in nothing but her underwear. She looks down at herself as I let her topple over onto the bed, and she blushes, looking up at me as I kneel on the edge.

  “I said all of it,” I growl as I pull my shirt off and toss it aside.

  The blush on her face grows, and those quick, curious eyes of hers count my abs and drink in the broad, tattooed frame before her. Her eyes linger on the side where I took a frag grenade so many years ago, scars still visible under the tattooed words “IRONCLAD.”

  She sits up on her knees and walks forward on them to me, looking at the scars and bringing her fingers to them. She looks up at me with the same look I saw when she cleaned my wounds. She’s a caring soul, and I can tell she wants to find the pain in me to ease it. But she doesn’t deserve to get thrust into cold reality that jarringly.

  I put one hand over hers and run my fingers through her hair with the other. “Old wounds,” I say. “Long since healed.”

  “It doesn’t look like it,” she says softly.

  I grin.

  “Brat,” I say, tightening my grip on her hair and making her mouth fall open. “For someone on the run, you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong too much.”

  “I know,” she admits bashfully, bringing her fingertips to my waist and tracing along my belt. “Like I said...I’m not exactly a stranger to discipline.”

  Her inexperienced, adorably clumsy words still thrill me to the core, and my every instinct knows with utter certainty what I need to do--what I have to. My fingers tighten into a fist in her hair, and I loom over her, reaching around her back to the clasp of her bra.

  “You sound like you’re looking for punishment,” I growl with a low chuckle as I unhook her bra.

  “That’s up to you,” she says in a brazen challenge.

  I slide her bra off her arms and push her back onto the pillows, swiping my tongue over my lips at the sight of her exposed breasts. She squirms back with wide eyes as I advance on her and seize her underwear, hooking my fingers under the waist and slipping them off easily. She’s so suddenly naked before me that even she’s surprised, and the strawberry-pink blush in her cheeks makes my cock feel tighter than it ever has.

  She puts her legs together and writhes with a soft gasp as I open my belt and unbutton my pants. Her eyes are fixed on the taut vee that points to my crotch as I slide the tattered denim down. I reach into my pants and take a large handful of my thick shaft and heavy balls, and when I let them spill out, Justine’s mouth falls open.

  I wrap my hand around my cock and give it a few good strokes, looking thoughtfully down at her with narrowed eyes that make her shiver and grasp the sheets.

  “I want to take you,” I say, “but I don’t know if you deserve it.”

  “I’ve been good!” she protests, suddenly looking alarmed. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

  “I’m not so sure,” I growl, sliding my hands between her legs and prying them apart with such ease that it’s almost a joke.

  Her wet pussy is already glistening, and my harsh gaze turns on her again.

  “You’ve been thinking dirty thoughts,” I point out, casually reaching forward and sliding a finger into her pussy.

  Immediately, her back arches, and she gasps at the feeling of my thick finger pushing through those soft lower lips. I reach forward with my other hand and grope one of her breasts while a second finger joins the first, and no matter how hard she tries to close her legs, she’s completely in my power.

  “You’re already so wet down here,” I say with an almost condescending chuckle. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “I can’t,” she confesses in a pouting whine, hips trying to twist, but my fingers curl in on her pussy and stroke away with a steady rhythm. “I need you. I need this--I want to feel you in me. No condom, just you.”

  “You’re not talking like a good girl at all,” my deep, husky voice rumbles as I feel her try to push her hips up into my hand’s steady pace.

  “I can be one,” she urges me as I push her closer and closer to orgasm. “I can show you, I could-” A squeaky gasp cuts her off as her face flushes and her orgasm ripples through her body.

  My hand feels how wet and ready she is, and I slide my fingers out and into my mouth to clean off. She watches me in vanquished awe--and I haven’t even gotten started.

  “I think I’ll decide that,” I say as I drape her legs one by one over my shoulders, pushing her backward and looming over her on my knees. “After I make you mine.”

  I push the tip of my bulging cock into the lips of her wet, slick pussy, and it slides in as if the two were made for each other. She lets out a sharp gasp, grasping the sheets at the sight of my pillar. I start to rock forward, slow but unstoppable, and I’m not cutting her any slack. If she wants to feel what it’s like being with me, I’ll let her feel it.

  My shaft thrusts deeper into her, and the further I go, the more careful I get. Her eyes have been locked on my spear as it works its way further into her lips, and the satisfaction on her face from being filled up by me, inch by inch, is more soothing and energizing than anything I’ve ever tasted.

  “At some point,” I say, “you’re going to feel a pinch. Don’t panic. It’s natural, and it only happens once.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she says, nodding.

  “Are you sure you want me to be the one to do that?” I say, my voice growing darker. “You can’t take that back.”

  “I told you,” she says, looking up at me with defiance through those desperate eyes. “I’m not afraid.”

  The spirit in this girl fills me with the same fire, and my cock stiffens even harder within her. She notices, and she pushes her hips up to feel more of me as I start to buck into her with building speed.

  I’ve never felt anyone like this. Her pussy is tight and warm, and her lack of experience does nothing to make it worse. Every time I feel the slick, warm pressure of her pussy roll over the vein-ribbed length of my cock grinding against her insides, I feel a searing heat in me that’s desperate to get out.

  My heavy, virile balls want to release inside her. The heady scent of her in the air gives me the urge to rut into her like we’re breeding. My hips start picking up the pace, and I grip her hips to buck into her deeper and harder than ever and feel her whole body tighten at once as an orgasm wracks her body...

  ...and she suddenly lets out a sharp whimper of pain when my cock pierces her hymen, and the sheets tighten in her fists, but I lean forward and press a comforting kiss to her lips to soothe her. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I growl in a soothing voice like distant thunder. “I’ve got you.”

  I pepper her face in kisses, from her cheek down to her neck, and I slow my pace almost to a stop while I gauge whether she’s in much pain. Her face was twisted up at first, but with each kiss and stroke, it seems to melt away little by little. She cracks her eyes open and looks at me with a hazy smile that makes my heart do a somersault, and I can’t help but smile back.

>   “How do you feel?” I ask in a dark rumble of a voice.

  “Better,” she whispers. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought. Thank you,” she adds with a blush that only grows as I push myself deep into her.

  I kiss her on the lips one last time before standing back up on my knees.

  And now that she’s broken in, I don’t have to hold back anymore.

  My comforting voice gives way to the husky grunting of a fierce rut as I pick my pace up again. I start pounding into her harder, feeling my heavy balls hit her ass as I claim the girl on her back in front of me. She’s so goddamn wet that I can hear each time my cock plows through her, pulsing and feeling her natural rhythms to sync up with her pace perfectly.

  The taut pressure in my cock builds so strongly that I feel like I’m going to burst or overflow if I don’t do something about it soon. Even though I have more age and experience than her, she makes me feel like I’ve never felt before. I’ve never craved to release inside someone like this.

  I want her to come with me, so I’m patient--I watch how she twists and sighs when I’m at this angle or that, feeling out her body and getting to know it. She might not even know it herself, for all I know. But when I find that sweet spot, I hammer it hard, grinding against it with my bulging crown as it gets bathed in her honey. Once I’m there, it doesn’t take long for her to suck in a sharp breath through her teeth and run her nails down my sides as an orgasm crashes through her.

  My balls tighten, and I groan as a thick shot of heavy seed erupts from my cock and plasters the inside of her pussy. Pulse after pulse, I pump everything I’ve got into her, utterly spilling myself into her untouched, fertile pussy. Her face is burning and glistening, and as the last few pulses of seed spurt from me, I lean forward to caress her body and kiss that needy mouth.