Page 51 of Steel

Still . . .

“You don’t own me, Steel. I wear what I want. It’s just clothes.”

He tightens his fingers and pulls me closer. “Stop playin’, baby girl. Both know I own you,” he purrs. “Own this body.” He trails his other hand from the mark on my shoulder down to the middle of my chest where my heart sits. “Own this heart.” He moves farther south, flicking my nipples as he goes, eliciting a groan from me. Then he slides his fingers into my panties, straight through my slit and deep into my pussy. “Own this cunt.”

I wrap my arms around him and dig my nails into his back, my eyes going hazy when they break skin and pull a deep hiss from him.

Steel fucks me with his fingers until I’m crying out and coming all over them as if he’s got a point to prove. I suppose in his mind, he does.

He pulls them out and slides them into his mouth, groaning as he licks them clean.

My arms drop from around him as my body trembles, and my mind is still in the orgasm fog when Steel reaches out and grabs one of the ripped sides of the shirt and wipes his fingers dry on it. Then he pulls the tattered material off me, tossing it onto the floor.

Lifting my brow, I watch in amusement to see what he does next.

It really doesn’t surprise me that he grabs the t-shirt he wore over here from where he’d tossed it on the couch and pulls it over my head.

I crinkle my nose when I feel the slight damp spot on it from earlier, but he speaks before I can open my mouth to protest.

“From now on, only man’s shit you wear is mine. Hear me?”

Christ. That freaking growl in his tone has me growing slick between my legs again.

Everything about this man is a hit of ecstasy straight to my brain.

“I hear you, bossman,” I murmur, lifting to my toes and placing my lips against his jawline.

He gives a sharp nod before turning to grab his cut.

“Oh, shit,” I whisper when I get a look at the nail and scratch marks on his back.

“What?” he asks.

I wince. “I kind of left marks on your back. I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional, I promise. They’re bad, but don’t look like they’re bleeding or anything.”

Steel shrugs and slides his cut over his shoulders. “Left marks on you too, baby girl.”

Is there anything sexier than your bearded biker wearing his leather cut for his motorcycle club with his bare, tattooed chest on display underneath it?

Not for me, there isn’t.

My fingers tingle with the need to capture him on camera.

Damn, I miss being behind the lens already.

“Is Lyric with Heather?” I ask quietly, following him to the door.

Steel nods. “Supposed to get her tomorrow. Want to get home so I can say goodnight to her, though. Rather have my girl at my place.”

Warmth steals through me at seeing the fatherly side of him. It’s not one he’s shown me very often because it’s a part of himself that he kept separate when we were together. Steel did everything he could to keep his two worlds from colliding. Now, because of me, they’re closer than ever to crashing together, and I think it terrifies him.

I lift my hand, curling my fingers around his jawline. “You’re a great dad, Jericho. Lyric is one lucky little girl.”

The only reply I get to that is a grunt, and it’s so typical of Steel that I just give him a soft smile. I move my hand to his beard and use it to gently pull his face down to meet mine. Knowing he’s impatient to get to his daughter, I keep the kiss short, simple, and sweet, yet still make sure it packs enough punch to leave enough of a lasting impression that he’ll be thinking of me after he’s gone.

“Be careful going home, bossman. I’d really hate not to see this pretty face again.”

“Door locked when you’re down here. Don’t answer for anyone except me or Reva. Keep your eyes peeled when you’re on the floor. Anything suspicious, make note of it and let me know. You feel unsafe, call me. You feel something’s not right, you fuckin’ call me.”

---