Page 138 of Tied to You
Mollie whimpers.
Rolling my hips, I push inside her, hissing as I glide my base flush to her arse. “Like this?” I choke, my chin hitting my now heaving chest.
She hums her satisfaction, her nails digging into the green cloth on the table.
“Or like this?” I rear back, slamming back into her, crashing her hips against the table.
Mollie’s head snaps up, and I fist her hair. “Shit!” she cries out, her breathing heavy.
I rear back and slam forward again, my other hand on her hip. “Jesus.” She feels so fucking good.
“More,” she pants, pulling against my hold on her hair, turning to look at me. She smiles.
It’s blinding.
I return it. “Whatever my wife-to-be wants,” slam, “she gets.”
“Oh fuck!” Mollie folds to the table, and I give it to her, my assault on her body relentless. This woman is everything I need and want. And I’m going to make her my wife.
Two days later, we’re thoroughly made up. Not that there was any doubt we wouldn’t be. Mollie hasn’t worked. I haven’t let her. I’ve kept her in the house, naked and underneath me, where I’ve worshipped my wife-to-be. She’s done nothing but try to help everyone lately. It’s simply the attention she deserves.
Of course, Janette has been all over her like a rash. I didn’t think about her reaction when I asked Mollie to marry me. In fact, I didn’t really think at all. Didn’t have to. It came naturally. I knew deep inside it was what I wanted.
But did it come as a shock? Abso-fucking-lutely. I even shocked myself by saying one day children might be on the cards. It’s a terrifying thought. However, the fact I said what I did is progress. Still, my heart flaps in a mad panic and I take a breath. “Calm down you twat,” I tell myself, keeping my voice low, ignoring the palpitations pulsing in my chest.
Mollie’s asleep on the bed by my side, her naked back to me. Her hands are still bound, her brown hair fanned across the pillow, shoulders gently rising and falling with each peaceful breath she takes. I only finished having my way with her half an hour ago, but the need to be inside her again is potent.
As is the smell of our room. It makes me smile. Rolling to my side, I lift my hand, skimming it gently down her spine, running over the curve of her arse. She doesn’t stir as I trace the letters inked on her back, but her skin pimples with my touch.
Beautiful.Mine.
I tuck my hand under her thigh, about to roll her to me, but my phone vibrating on the bedside table makes me stop. I turn and snatch it up, knowing who it will be. “Dean?”
“You ever going to climb off her?”
Ignoring his comment with a shake of my head, I turn away from Mollie, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “Where we at?”
“Need Mollie at the clubhouse,” he says flatly.
I scratch at my beard, exasperated. No. No way she’s coming with us. “I can’t have her a part of this.” Not now that I want her to be my wife.
“Not saying she is. But, if she can hurry up the process, surely we could use her?”
“Useher?”
I hear him curse under his breath. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He sighs, and I just fucking know what’s coming next. He’s going to use his newfound power. “For the sake of the club, put her on the phone.”
“Fuck you,” I spit instantly.
I swear I hear him smirk. “Put her on the fucking phone.”
“You talking to me as my VP or my mate?”
He pauses. “Both.”
Right.“Fuck you.” I drop my head, looking over my shoulder at her still sleeping.
Since the Saviours took the tunnels, we’ve been ruthless. They step inside our turf we take them out. They try to deal near our borders, we make sure they stay out. Our hopes of us gaining all power almost vanished to dust. We’re not there yet, but Elvis? He’s one deal away from becoming King.
