Page 28 of Reaper's Justice
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, making me arch and cry out. My body writhes, but his hand on my hip holds me firmly in place, ensuring I take every thrust as he continues his relentless pace.
It doesn't take long before his steady rhythm changes. He sits up suddenly, lifting me with him like I weigh nothing, and thrusts deep one final time. I feel him pulse inside me, filling me with his warmth in three distinct spurts. His cock throbs against my inner walls, and I feel his release trickling down between us.
I'm exhausted, spent, yet I feel cherished in a way I never have before. He doesn't immediately pull out, and I don't move from my position on his lap. We stay connected, staring into each other's eyes, both of us breathing hard.
"Stay," he says suddenly, his voice gruff but sincere. "Here. With me. I'll take care of you."
The offer makes my heart skip a beat. "Stay?"
"There's a future for you here." His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from my sweaty forehead. "If you want it."
"Future." I test the word, finding it strange on my tongue. "I don't think I've ever felt like I had one of those."
"You do now," he promises, his gray eyes intense. "One we can build together."
"Are you sure?" I ask, suddenly aware of the absurdity of this situation. "We just met. I'm younger than you. You don't even know me."
"This is insane to me too," he admits with a small laugh. "But if there's one thing I've learned, in the military and in the MC, it's that life is too fucking short. When you know, you know."His thumb traces my cheekbone. "And yeah, you're younger, but you've suffered too much. You've lived two lifetimes already."
I wrap my arms around him, unable to fully encircle his massive frame. Emotion wells in my throat. Not just lust or gratitude, but something dangerously close to hope. I lean in to kiss him, to seal this crazy promise with action rather than words.
But a sharp knock on the door interrupts us.
Jackson sighs, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before easing me off his lap. "Sorry," he murmurs, pulling on his jeans while I wrap myself in the sheet.
He crosses to the door, opening it just enough to reveal Ghost standing in the hallway, his expression grim.
"We've got company," Ghost says without preamble. "Vultures MC. At least fifteen of them approaching the compound. Heavily armed."
Fear spikes through me, sharp and cold. They've come for me. They'll hurt everyone here and then take me back to punish me for escaping. I begin to shake, the sheet clutched to my chest like flimsy armor.
Jackson turns to look at me, and to my shock, he's smirking.
"Don't worry," he says, the confidence in his voice absolute. "This is like training for us. We've been hoping someone would be stupid enough to test us."
Ghost nods in agreement. "Perimeter security's already engaged. Blade's distributing weapons. We're ready whenever you are, Prez."
"Two minutes," Jackson replies. Ghost nods and disappears down the hallway.
Jackson turns back to me, his expression softening slightly. "Get dressed. Something comfortable you can move in. You'll stay in the safe room with Wilder until this is over."
"I don't want to hide," I protest, even as I reach for the clothes scattered on the floor. "I can help."
"Not a negotiation," he says firmly, pulling a fresh t-shirt over his head. "I need to focus on eliminating the threat, not worrying about your safety."
The way he says "eliminating the threat"—so casual, so confident—reminds me of who he truly is. This isn't just a man who made love to me with surprising tenderness. This is Reaper, President of the Outlaw Order MC, a man feared for good reason.
And right now, I'm fucking grateful for it.
I dress quickly in the clothes he tossed me yesterday. Jeans that are too big and a t-shirt that swallows me whole. He opens a cabinet I hadn't noticed before, revealing an impressive arsenal of weapons. He selects a handgun similar to the one he showed me earlier.
"Here," he says, handing it to me. "Safety's on. Only use it if absolutely necessary. Remember what I showed you?"
I nod, taking the weapon. "Point and shoot. Safety off first."
"Good girl." He grabs a larger gun—some kind of assault rifle—and slings it over his shoulder before grabbing extra magazines.
Another knock at the door, more urgent this time.
