“Does it hurt that bad to love me like that?” I ask him, but without judgment. If it hurts, it hurts. Crown glances back and then stands up, climbing off so that he can turn to look at me.
“Worse than anything I’ve ever experienced,” he admits, watching me there with memories dancing in his eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light. It’s a gas lamp which makes it flicker like real flame. That’s what this man’s attention to detail is like. A regular porch light wasn’t enough to bring his wife home to. “Like being eviscerated, crucified, and left to rot in the hot sun.”
“I’ll do it,” I agree, staring down at the surface of the helmet instead of his face. “Does that make it better?”
“Put that fucking helmet down and look at me when you say it,” he growls out, so I chuck the helmet and turn, staring up at him with defiance.
“You’re saying you’ll be mine anyway, right? Whether we have kids or not. So fine. Fuck you. Or rather, fuck me. Fuck me and come inside of me, and give me a baby if that’s what you want. I don’t care.”
Crown grabs my face in two hands, kissing me with that devastating tongue of his, the one that demands literally everything. He might be reluctantly willing to share me with Beast, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be able to give Calder Reid one-fourth of anything.
He demands everything; he demands all of me.
“I need to fuck you,” he murmurs, undoing his jeans. “Right here. Now.”
I look down at his bike and memories come flooding back to me, of a night that quite literally changed all of our lives. It was wicked and dark and sinful and wonderful. It was also wrong. But I don’t give a shit about that.
Everything about my life is wrong to so many, but all that matters is if it’s right to me.
“Fuck me then,” I murmur, standing up and shedding Beast’s jacket. I toss it to the ground as Crown strips off his own shirt, and then I climb off to stand beside him, kicking my boots off and shoving my pants down. My shirt and bra are next, falling on the ground to join the rest of my clothes.
We climb back onto the seat together, but with the backrest, it’s a tighter fit. My back is to the handlebars while he faces me, gabbing my hips and pulling me close so that he can grind our bodies together.
Crown reaches between us and guides himself to my entrance, yanking me hard against him with the other hand so that my body is impaled on his. I’m still sore, but it feels so damn good that I don’t care. My legs wrap around his midsection, and we roll our pelvises together. It’s a team effort in this position, to fit together this way, to look up and find each other’s gazes.
That first night, I can’t speak for the other guys, but Crown … he made love to me.
That’s not a mistaken turn of phrase; it’s a fact.
“Oh God, Gidge,” he groans out, and he gets my name right which makes me happy. “How can you still be this tight? The first time, I figured …” He shakes his head and then leans down, kissing the side of my neck. My hands grip his biceps, feeling the easy strength in them. “Fuck, you feel good.”
I love hearing him say that. I could listen to that every day and never get tired of it.
“More,” I murmur, “keep talking.”
Crown’s arms wrap me up and pull me even closer, crushing our naked chests together. His mouth tastes a bit like ash when we kiss, but I’m sure I taste the same. The sky dictates the tastes and smells of this encounter. Smoke. Burnt things. Fervor.
We’re rocking together in this frenzied, simple motion, but there’s so much feeling in it that it might as well be the most interesting, most incredible thing I’ve ever done.
And Crown is right: it hurts. It hurts so bad. I can never give him the things he wants so he hurts which makes me hurt, and … it’s glorious pain. Once upon a time, I was afraid to feel like this.
Because falling in love is just that—falling.
“Keep talking …” He trails off, sliding his palms along the outsides of my thighs, skimming my scarred but still sensitive flesh with his heat. Crown looks up and into my eyes, and my heart stutters. My arms twine around his neck and I let my head fall back so that I can look up at that strange moon in the sky. “I love you, Gidge.” He puts his mouth near the side of my neck and whispers against my throat. “And I’ll keep loving you even if it kills me.”
