Page 53 of Raiden

When I finally look at him, the tension that’s been building between us ignites. I hope that Raiden is done drinking in the riotous breath giving of this party. I hope he’s had enough lifeinfused back into him here, because now that I’ve just glanced his way, my body is flames near a whole tank of gasoline. Tonight, neither of us are banking our desires because there’s more important things we need to focus on.

Just thinking about Raiden filling me, sliding in with his thick length, makes me soak my panties under the tight black leather dress I’m wearing. I came to this party decked out in full biker babe gear, leather dress short enough to barely cover my ass and thigh high black leather lace up boots to make up for it included.

My desire must be clear on my face because Raiden’s eyes darken. He clutches the glass in his hand hard enough to shatter it. His knuckles are white with the strain. I wonder if he’s feeling it too, his cock slipping inside of me, my walls clenching around him. Is he hard as steel in his jeans? Does it hurt? Does heachefor me?

He steps into me, brushing against my arm with his. The noise in here swallows my gasp. He switches his drink to his other hand and takes mine, twisting our fingers together. My hands are no longer soft and ladylike, a source of pride for me, but his are twice as abrasive. Just that touch makes my throat close up.

It takes everything I have not to curl into him and climb him right there, stripping his clothes off, and mine, along the way.

His mouth is like a lifeline. That’s what this party is about- celebrating living a good life.

I cling to him, the weight of our sins scored heavily on our souls, but I know that we’d do the same thing again and again. Idon’t like it and neither does Raiden, but we chose this life. We chose this family of rough men and women.

My dad’s club doesn’t feel like this place. There’s not the same camaraderie, the same deep friendship, the same sense that anyone here would die for the man to his left and the man to his right. This is more than just a place to get drunk, smoke weed, ride bikes, and fuck women who are attracted to that lifestyle like moths with singed wings.

Raiden drops his face, his breath skating along my cheek. “Want my cock in you, Ella, want it right now, worse than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

I probably gasp again. I don’t even know. I’m lost in the crazed vibrations rattling through me. “That would involve leaving.” I have to shout back for him to hear. I don’t dare get my face close to his or I’m going to let him claim my mouth and from there, he can have whatever else he wants, no matter who is watching, which means I need to have control, and we need to get out of here fast.

We could always come back.

I know we won’t.

It’s funny that we’re two people who got used to making it on our own, but we like being close to each other, holding each other and not letting go. Maybe that’s how it is for everyone like us. We fall harder specifically because of our determination not to.

Raiden dips his thumb down into his drink and paints my bottom lip with a stripe of whiskey. The stinging tang of it burns over my tongue when I sweep it out, but not like the way the aftertaste of him does.

I rub my thighs together, clenching them to try and combat the red-hot lust that’s charging through me like a battery getting too much current. I’m ready to combust or explode, just like they do.

My beer practically slips out of my hands, so I bend and set it on the floor before I have an accident with it. My five-inch spike heels put me nearly level with Raiden. “We’re leaving.”

He watches me lazily, almost insolently, lifting his glass and slowly sipping down the whiskey. I watch his throat as he swallows, longing to sink my teeth there. I’d never call Raiden a tease, but he knows perfectly well what he’s doing to me.

“You drink that whiskey any slower and the hunter will become the hunted,’ I promise darkly.

He almost chokes on the last swallow, a reluctant grin spreading across his face. He’s so lovely when he smiles. The sound of his laughter is far better. They’re beautiful because they’re so rare.

It’s not wise to give your heart naively. I was told to come here, but is it my choice now to stay? Am I just my father’s puppet? What happens if I defy him? Even without his commanding presence in my life, I’ve learned the hard way from the past that people can’t be trusted. Romance exists purely in stories. Real life is brutal, with all the bitterness of disappointment and the wounding arrows of harm.

At the same time, I can’t say I ever gave my heart to anyone. I’ve kept it safe and untouched.

It doesn’t feel like a choice to give it to Raiden.

He moves and I follow.

He sets his glass down and I leave my beer bottle on the floor. Someone will kick it over and probably curse about it within a matter of minutes. I should be responsible, but I don’t look back.

I just blindly follow.

I’d do more than that blindly. He might never ask me for my heart, but he’s winning it without a word.

It’s terrifying. Life has taught me about self-preservation and normally, it’s a lesson I heed, but the memory of Raiden’s touch, the feel of his mouth moving against mine, the fit of his cock inside me, is more temptation than I can bear.

I follow him down the dark hallway away from the lounge, to the back where his room is.

We don’t make it before Raiden turns on me, slams me up against the wall more in play than actual force, his hand behind my head and the other blocking the blow at the base of my spine. One more gasp swallowed up by the music trailing us out here and then he’s kissing me.

He’s hungry, but so am I. Our mouths are frantic. His hand cups my ass as he steps between my legs and drives me harder into the wall. I hook one leg around his waist and climb him to get closer.

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