Page 52 of Cheshire

“That’s not exactly comforting,” he muttered.

“If you’re trying to tell me not to touch you, and not to take this any further, then save your breath. I think we both need this right now. After everything, I want to feel close to you, and I want to celebrate the fact we’re alive.”

By the time I finished, he took the soap from me and washed the dirt from my skin. My nipples hardened from his light touch, and my body felt like it was on fire. No matter what he said, I worried I’d end up causing him pain if we were intimate right now. At the same time, I felt like I needed to be closer to him after everything we’d been through today.

“I want you, Eliza, but I don’t think I’m in good enough shape to do this in the shower.”

“Then let’s dry off and move to the bedroom. We can be quick so we don’t miss the party,” I said.

He smiled a little. “The party will go most of the night. I don’t think they’ll mind us being a little late, but knowing Jo and my brothers, they’ve ordered food. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Right on cue, my stomach rumbled and my cheeks flushed. He helped me out of the shower, and I noticed his arm was still bloody, as was as the cut on his side. Before he could drag me to the bedroom, I made him stand still and rummaged through his bathroom drawers and cabinet. I found some triple antibiotic and bandages. They wouldn’t hold for long.

“I think you need stitches,” I said.

“Later.” He lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed. He eased me down onto the mattress, pressing his body to mine. His eyes were filled with desire and ownership. “You’re mine.”

My heart raced at the thought of being owned by him, completely under his control. With anyone else I’d be terrified. But I trusted Cheshire. Knew deep down that he’d never hurt me.

He kissed me, long and deep, as he trailed his hand down my thigh and slipped it between my legs. His fingers teased my pussy, and I arched my back, desperate for more. He slid a finger inside me, crooking it just right, and hit a spot inside me that had me begging for more.

My moans filled the room, and I couldn’t help but wriggle beneath him in anticipation.

“Do you like that?” he asked, his voice low and devilish.

I nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words. He chuckled darkly and added another finger, stretching me until I was wet and ready for him.

Cheshire kissed me again before trailing kisses down my neck and collarbone. He positioned his cock against my pussy, and then stopped. “Tell me you want it,” he said, his body hovering over mine.

“Please,” I whimpered, begging for the pleasure he would give me. And then he thrust inside me, filling me up completely.

He started slowly, gradually increasing the pace as my body adjusted to his size. I cried out, loving the way he owned me completely. My hands gripped his shoulders, digging into his skin as I tried to hold on to the feeling.

“You’re going to scream my name,” he warned me. His pace quickened, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge. I moaned his name as he thrust deeper, harder, hitting that sweet spot over and over again until my orgasm crashed down on me like a wave. I screamed his name, my body trembling from the intensity.

Cheshire thrust three more times, and I felt the heat of his release filling me. I briefly wondered if he’d forgotten the condom again by accident, or if he’d decided not to use one.

We lay there, panting heavily, our hearts still racing from the intense encounter. “That was… incredible.”

He leaned in and nuzzled my neck. I couldn’t help but agree. With each passing moment, I found myself falling deeper in love with him -- not just because of his brutal strength or his rugged good looks, but because he saw something in me that no one else had and accepted me completely, flaws and all.

We got up and rinsed off in the shower again. After I bandaged his wounds once more, we dressed and headed to the common room, straight into the belly of the celebration. Music pounded against the walls, a thumping bass that echoed the pulse racing under my skin. Laughter bubbled up around me, warm as the whiskey shots being tossed back.

“Eliza!” Hatter called out, his voice rough but laced with joy. He raised a bottle in salute. “To new beginnings! Your life is now your own.”

“New beginnings,” I echoed. Jo stood beside him, her delicate frame a stark contrast to the burly bikers surrounding her. Yet she radiated strength, her eyes fierce with a fire that refused to die. I hoped I could be like that one day.

We were survivors, both marked and molded by darkness, yet here we stood amidst laughter and light. She seemed to have adjusted well. Would I look so relaxed and carefree as more time passed?

The Underland MC had become an unexpected haven. I’d have never thought a place like this would be a sanctuary for me.

“Here’s to tearing down tyrants,” someone shouted, and the club erupted in agreement, a roar of approval that filled the space with electric energy. The club’s work wasn’t done, but by taking down my father, they’d taken a giant step in the right direction.

I weaved through the crowd, feeling more at home than I ever had before.

“You did good, Eliza,” Mock said.

“I didn’t do anything except wait.”

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