Page 76 of His Road Dog

That right there made her different than everyone else in his life. He held her closer, almost too tightly, and walked her backward to the bed. Ever since arriving back in Missoula, he couldn't get enough of her.

Even now, he wanted to throw her on the bed, thrust his cock into her, and destroy her in such a way, nobody else would ever have her. His lungs squeezed, and he harshly panted, so fucking close to her, he could breathe in the scent of her.

"Honey." Nicole kissed his chest, his shoulder.

Unable to move her hands, she used the only part of her body that could take what she wanted. He held her captive. The post of the bed close enough, he could tie her up and never let her leave him.

His body vibrated, holding back his desire to imprison her in his life because he couldn't face losing her, he slowly let go of her hands. Expecting her to run away once she witnessed the fear running through him, he hardened when her hands slid inside the front of his jeans and impatiently slid deeper, looking for his cock.

He reached into his pocket, grabbed the condom he put in there earlier.

Her fingers grabbed him. His toes dug into the carpet. Ripping open the foil packet, he shoved her hands out of the way, unfastened his jeans, and rolled on the protection.

He'd given her a chance to get away, and she'd stayed.

Wanting to give her everything she desired, he turned her away from him and pressed her upper body down until her hands landed on the bed. Using his knee, he widened her legs. The picture of her before him, bent over and sticking out her ass, got to him. She was so damn trusting.

He would never make her doubt him.

He reached out and gathered her curls in his fist, tightening his grip until he had full control of her head, and she couldn't move.

Grabbing her hip, he bent his knees and thrust into her pussy from behind. She took the full impact on a moan.

His arousal throbbed inside of him. He ground against her, taking her to her toes.

Nicole whined for more. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, turning her head, and ogled her open mouth. Her closed eyes and flushed cheeks told him everything he needed to know.

She got off as much as he, except she loved someone else taking control. He had no time to wonder if it was because she lacked any form of rules and regulations growing up that she thrived under strict guidance with him.

He bent over her back and kept her head turned, capturing her mouth. She hungrily took his tongue, sucking, deepening him. His hips gyrated, sliding his cock in and out, faster, shorter strokes.

Needing more, he let go of her hair, pulled out, and flipped her onto her back on the bed. He hooked her leg under her knee and plunged back into her. Over and over, he pounded into her pussy.

Nicole's eyes rolled. Her breasts swayed with the movements. He arched his back, never missing a beat.

Her teeth chattered together, and her legs quaked. He took that all in and wasn't prepared for the violence of her orgasm, clenching down on his cock. He roared, holding her legs as he shot his come.

His heart pounded. He let his head fall back, and he closed his eyes, catching his breath. As quickly as he'd spent himself, he recovered and pulled out of her slowly, letting her legs go. He leaned over and kissed her deeply.

She sighed contently on the bed, looping her arm around his neck. He would give anything to fall on the mattress beside her and sleep a few hours, but he had shit to do.

"Rest." He kissed her again.

She whined when he straightened, and her arm fell away from him. He covered her with the blanket at the end of the bed, removed the condom, tossing it in the wastebasket, and quickly left the room.

In the bathroom, he washed up and walked barefooted through the house, grabbing his Tarkio vest and shrugging it on, then went straight out to the deck. The sun only a sliver over the mountain peak, Priest took one of the joints that Nicole's dad had given him out of his pocket and held it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

Meeting Nicole's dad was the damnedest thing. Since coming home, he hadn't had time to question her about what he'd seen at the commune. A part of him wanted to figure it out himself—if he was right, he'd stumbled upon a fucking goldmine.

The average person wouldn't rake the seeds from the buds and stems, or gift him with the Acapulco Gold strain unless he was sharing unspoken information with him. If that was the case, Nicole's dad had no idea what kind of businesses Tarkio Motorcycle Club had their fingers in and had taken a big chance. A deadly chance.

He'd grown up in a time when hippies were anti-war, and he was the enemy putting on the uniform. While others were preaching freedom and free love, he was fighting for their right to mooch off the government.

But he understood their desires and their hope. He understood when he bought his first motorcycle. He understood when he fought for the gavel.

He pinched the end of the joint, raised it to his lips, and lit the end, inhaling deeply.

Behind him, the sliding door slid open. He exhaled slowly and raised his right arm. Damn, that was good shit—the best he'd ever had, including what he paid his workers to grow.

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