Madeline Sheehan - Undeniable

"Say it again, Eva," He growled.

I bit my lip.

"Babe.  Say it again."

I didn't.  Mostly because he was inside of me again, so full, so big and he was fucking me deliciously slow.  I went soft beneath him, staring up into his eyes.  Eyes that I could never look away from.  Eyes that pulled me inside of him where it was warm and safe.  Eyes that I loved.  And that's when I realized he wasn't fucking me.  He was making love to me.

“Say it,” He demanded, his expression fierce.  Dominant.  Possessive.

"I…didn't mean-

He pulled his hips back and slammed inside of me.  "You love me.  Say it."

"No, I meant-

"You love me."

I gave up.  “Yes,” I cried.  “I love you!  I've loved you forever!”

His eyes closed and his head dropped to my chest.  “Fuck,” He whispered.

"Deuce," I whispered.

He looked up at me.  "Yeah baby," He asked hoarsely. His eyes were hooded, his mouth slightly parted, his breath coming in short hard pants.  Beads of sweat dotted his brow.  He wasn't Deuce, bad ass biker and I wasn't Eva, his rival’s bad ass biker's daughter.  He was a dangerously beautiful man and I was a woman he wanted and it was so fucking beautiful.  I wanted to freeze time and stay in this moment with him forever, touching, fucking and loving.

"Come on me," I said, driven only by need.  "I want you to come all over me."

His body went stiff, his nostrils flared. He barely had enough time to pull out of me before his body let go.

“God baby…fuck…fucking god.”

Watching Deuce orgasm was absolutely beautiful, Aurora Borealis kind of beautiful.  His face drew in tightly then loosened as his release began.  For a moment he looked younger than he was, young and vulnerable like I remembered him looking the day I’d met him.  His eyes were glazed over, his lids at half mast.  A small noisy breath passed through his lips and swept warmly over my breasts. Wet warmth shot up over my stomach and chest and suddenly Deuce's fingers were inside of me, pumping.  My sex clenched and clenched again, throwing me into orgasm.

Taking his fingers away, he slid his hand over my body rubbing his liquid heat into the skin on my stomach and breasts, down between my thighs, and up into my sex, staring into my eyes the entire time.

He was marking me.

Claiming me.

Owning me.

"Say it again," He demanded.

"I love you, Deuce," I whispered.

My eyelids fluttered open and I blinked sleepily.  The thick, steel band around my stomach tightened.

I lifted my arm behind me and encircled Deuce's neck, pulling his head down until I could see his eyes.  "Morning," I breathed.

His hand left my belly and moved lower, cupping me.  I lifted my leg and hooked my foot behind his knee.  He made a hungry noise in the back of his throat that I felt all the way to my toes.

"You sore?"  He asked roughly.

"Uh huh,” I whispered. “In a really, really good way."

He chuckled.  "You want it?"

"Please," I breathed.

"You want it hard?"

"Please," I breathed.

“Bitch is gonna kill me,” He laughed.  “Keep wantin’ it raw.”

Oh god, he was teasing me.  Here we were lying in his bed and he was teasing me.  It was so…domestic.  I loved it.

He groaned as he entered me and I whimpered as I stretched for him, molded around him, drenching him and then finally, eagerly accepting him.  All of him.

I came and I came hard.

Shaking his head, he let out an amused grunt.  "Fuck.  Never seen a woman catch fire the way you do, darlin'.  The way you squeeze my cock and that body of yours shakin' so hard while you scream in my ear and pull my fuckin’ hair and claw up my fuckin' back.  When I let you outta my bed darlin' I’m gonna be spendin' the rest of my life thinkin’ 'bout that pussy and not findin' anything that comes close and, babe, my balls are gonna fuckin’ explode.”

We switched positions and he started moving again, this time with vigor; hard and fast, skin slapping skin.  Then slow and sweet, our sweat slicked bodies sliding against one another.

There was nothing else quite like it.  And there was no one else quite like Deuce.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out, cursing and clawing through my second orgasm.  "Holy fucking shit!"

He grinned down at me, all beautiful blue eyes and laugh lines and dimples.

"There it is," He rumbled appreciatively.  "There’s my fuckin' girl."

His girl.

How long had I been waiting to hear him say that?

☼☼☼

After fucking Eva all morning, she had fallen asleep again.  It was late afternoon now and Deuce and a few of his boys were drinking brews and grilling steaks out back of the clubhouse.

"Where's the hottie?"  Tap asked around the neck of his beer bottle.

"Which one?" Jase asked.  "The blonde or the brunette?  They're both badass."

ZZ laughed.  "The blonde's been in a Ripper Cox sandwich since she got here."

Hawk made a face.  "Shit's not fair.  If it'd been me that walked out there first, bitch would be in my bed."

Deuce shrugged.  "Kami's a fuckin' whore.  Doubt she'll be opposed to you joinin' the party."

"Naw," Chips said.  "I already tried.  They don't wanna share.  Not that I blame ‘em.  Not many holes left available when they're both hittin' that shit at the same time.  So how's 'bout yours Prez?  You wanna pass her on yet?"

ZZ spit out his beer.

"Asshat," Jase muttered.  "That's not a whore.  That's Eva Fox, Preacher's fuckin' daughter.  The bitch our Prez can't seem to think straight around.  The bitch who got him shot."

Chips eyes went wide.

"I got myself shot," He muttered.  "Wasn't her fuckin' fault.  She was sixteen, I had my hand down her fuckin' pants and my tongue down her throat.  He's her old man, do you really fuckin' blame him?"

"You die," Marsh said, his expression hard.  "Then yeah, I would fuckin' blame him."

"Sixteen, huh?"  Danny D. grinned.  "Nice."

Tap frowned at Danny.  "You're fuckin' sick dude.  I gotta a fifteen year old daughter.  Some fuckin' old asshole like Prez get's anywhere near her pants I’m gonna put him to ground.  I'm puttin' a one year age difference on her datin' life."  Tap turned to him.  "Not a fuckin' eighteen year difference."

"It's not like that," He muttered, feeling strangely embarrassed.  "Got nothin' to do with her age.  Never has.  Been likin' her since she was just a kid and now her bein' a woman, my cock likes her too.  But it's never been 'bout her age.  Straight up, it's always been just 'bout her."

His boys were staring at him as if he had grown a second head.

"Damn, Prez," Jase muttered.  "Just…damn."

Aside from Cox and Ripper and Mick - who'd hadn’t returned-  I met Blue, ZZ, Chip, Bucket, Worm, Freebird, Hawk, Bucket, Marsh, Danny D. and Danny L., Tramp, Dimebag, Tap, Dirty and Jase.  And those were just the names I remembered.

Out of everyone I met, I liked Cox, ZZ and Freebird the most.  ZZ was an eighteen year old novitiate who, like me, had been born into the life.  He also reminded me of Frankie with his chocolate brown eyes and shoulder length brown hair he kept in a ponytail mid skull.  He was tall and lean with an overall innocence that I knew would soon be wiped right out of him.

Figuring out how Freebird got his name wasn't hard.  Long gray and black hair hung greasy and stringy halfway down his back.  He was balding on top but he hid it well using Brett Michael's bandana balding solution.  His gray beard was braided in one long braid that reached his chest and he still wore bell bottom jeans that had been patched over so many times I wasn't sure if any of the original denim remained.  His arms were covered in tattoos; peace signs, ying and yang, and words like freedom, peace and the open road.  Kinda hypocritical for a biker belonging to the Hell's Horsemen MC but whatever, he told dirty jokes and made me laugh.

The clubhouse whores weren't half as bad as the ones constantly camped out at the Demon's NYC MC, half of which were actual whores.  That's not saying these girls didn't have their problems. The biggest being they desperately wanted to become an old lady and early on had made the mistake of sleeping with half the club.  Now they were stuck.  No biker was going to put a woman on the back of his bike who's slept with half his brothers.

My least favorite was a bleached blonde named Miranda.  She was twenty five, a high school dropout and a mom of two, father's unknown.  When I asked her where her kids were, what she did with them while she was here - which apparently was all the time- she told me her mother had custody.  This disgusted me.  I had no love for deadbeat moms.

I asked Deuce if he'd been with her and he gave me a cocked eyebrow, lazy eyed look.

Then he'd said, "Babe," in such a way that made me feel like I'd just asked the most ridiculous question ever asked.

I’d stormed off and he’d burst out laughing.  Next thing I knew he was tossing me up over his shoulder and taking me back to bed.

As for the rest of the regulars, they varied in ages and sizes same as the biker's they catered to.  Some were young, other's middle aged.  Some were thin and shapeless others plump with a little too many curves in all the wrong places.  Most were average women who wore too much makeup and not enough clothing.  All of them were pathetic.