Page 34 of Ripper's Redemption

“You’re close,” he growls more than speaks, feeling my body quiver around him.

“Yes,” I admit breathlessly, “I just need...”

Suddenly, he flips us over so that he’s on top, pulling me closer.

His movements become more deliberate, thrusting deeper, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

His name becomes a prayer on my lips as I cling onto him, soaring toward an explosive release.

Just then, his mouth captures mine in a searing kiss.

It’s fiery and demanding—his tongue exploring the depths of my mouth as if it’s his only lifeline.

His other hand finds my breast, kneading it with a rough gentleness that has me spiraling.

The room spins as my body tightens, the world narrowed down to this man, this moment, this overwhelming sensation.

Ripper’s eyes blaze into mine, sparking with intensity. “Let go,” he urges, gruffly.

I unravel in his arms, a torrent of pent-up passion finally unleashed. His brow furrows as he follows close behind, our cries echoing in the small cabin.

For a while, there’s only the sound of our ragged breaths and the steady crackle of firewood.

I rest my head against his chest, listening to the strong rhythm of his heart—a comforting lullaby that lulls me toward sleep.

His fingers trace lazy circles on my bare back, a silent promise of more to come. “You okay?” He asks, voice raw and hoarse.

I let out a soft sigh, snuggling closer. “Never been better,” I admit, cuddling up to him.

I close my eyes, letting the euphoria settle over me.

This is too good to be true, but I’ll savor it in the meantime.

CHAPTER NINE

Ripper

The sun’s setting, casting a warm, amber glow over the town.

I’m in front of Murphy’s Garage with Bama and Stiletto, the rumble of passing bikes and the smell of motor oil filling the air.

The three of us lean against our rides, shooting the shit like old times.

It’s good to see Bama out, finally free from the clubhouse after all this time.

When he came home from the hospital Zane didn’t want him venturing out since he had such a major surgery, which is understandable.

His grin is wide, but there’s still a shadow in his eyes.

“Feels so damn good to be out and about,” Bama says, his voice gruff but full of relief. He stretches, cracking his neck. “I was getting cabin fever in there so fuckin’ bad.”

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Stiletto quips, lighting up a cigarette.

Bama chuckles and looks over at me, “Speaking of cabins, how was your trip with Tara last weekend?”

I lick my lips and take a sip of water. “It was good. Nice to be away from everythin’ for a couple of days. Honestly, I think we both needed it.”

Stiletto’s eyes lock right on mine, “So, it’s serious between the two of you?”

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