Page 34 of The Heart We Guard
“Tell me if it hurts,” I say again, this time in a hushed whisper.
I can’t bear to cause him any more pain, but…
My knees hit the bed as I settle myself down over him, and there’s such an intense fullness that I feel as though I might explode.
“You need to move for me, sweet girl,” he says. “Take me.”
The tension in his voice, the gruff desire he has for me, is the only encouragement I need.
“Guide me,” I say.
His hands return to my hips, and Butcher sets the speed. He likes slow rises and fast drops.
I focus on the sounds he makes, the scent of our mixed arousal, the feel of the hairs on his legs against mine.
It’s sensory overwhelm in a way I’m unused to.
And yet, I want nothing more than to come, to show him just how special this moment is to me. To let him know how good it feels and how connected to him I am.
“Nolan,” I cry out when an orgasm starts to tease in my core. It’s so close, within reach. I take over the movement, Nolan’s nails digging into my hips so tightly, I feel like I might break apart.
“Yeah, I’m right…with you…” Nolan sucks in air. His face tightens, and the cords in his neck stretch. “Shit, Greer.” His voice splinters when I feel him pulse deep inside me.
And every coherent thought I have scatters as I follow him over the edge.
10
BUTCHER
Isend a message to Grudge, who was on duty overnight, praying it’s typed properly. It’s a request for pickup about a mile from Greer’s house. When I see he’s given it a thumbs-up, I look over to the window.
I rarely see the sunrise in all its haunting glory.
Perhaps on the occasional Outlaws party when it goes all night, I’ll catch sight of it as I creep into bed in the small hours. But for the most part, it’s a time of day I’ve never really had much to do with.
Much of my work happens in the dark, at night, when the organized crime syndicates come out to play, when goods can be moved without lots of prying eyes.
But this morning, as the first cleave of sun breaks through the slit in the dark curtains, leaving a line of sunlight across Greer’s face, I find myself soaking in the moment.
I reach for her hair, still at a loss as to how she gets it so soft, how white it is.
I don’t want to leave her, but staying has bad news written all over it. Because the longer I stay here, the harder it’s going to be to leave.
Being the president of a motorcycle club means I might as well put a target on the back of every person I love and respect.
Greer saved my life. I shouldn’t return the favor for that by putting a target on her back too.
But none of that makes this easy.
When her body feels so good curled up against mine.
When the warmth of her is easing bones that have ached this week and easing a heart and spirit that have ached for a lifetime.
When my cock is at ease after a night spent pleasing the two of us.
Despite the injuries, I feel better than I have in weeks. Maybe it’s good food, sleep, and no fucking around with alcohol, cigarettes, and casual sex.
Or maybe it’s just Greer.
