Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Elizabeth Knox (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) 📖

just a dream. “Do you mind holding me for a while? I think I’ll go to sleep easier if I feel you with me.”

She didn’t say that she liked the way he smelled—a fresh, clean scent with a woodsy note and primal musk. But every breath would remind her she was somewhere safe with a man who’d protect her. Who’d avenge her. He had killed Phantom, he said, and planned to kill Khan.

How could she ever begin to thank him, let alone repay him?

Quake lay back down, adjusting his pillow under his head then reached under the covers and adjusted himself. Seeing the telltale movement of his hand, Rory reached for him. If nothing else, she could help him sleep better.

Lightning-quick reflexes caught her wrist before she could touch him. “No,” Quake scolded. “You’re going to close your eyes and get some sleep. Be a good girl, and I’ll let you touch me in the morning, not before. Understood?”

Rory had to admire a man who said no. He was a rare breed.

Like her.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. “I’ll be good.”

Only because that’s what Quake wanted.

Rory drifted off, waking in the wee hours to feel breath ruffling her hair and a hard-on nudging the crack of her ass. “Someone’s morning wood is knocking on my backdoor,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep. “If you like anal, I can take it.” She’d noticed when he did threesomes with Candy, he was usually the front man. “Just use lube. Slick us up enough and you can fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Christ,” he groaned, flexing his hips and grinding against her. “Be right back.”

He disappeared in the bathroom, taking time to empty his bladder, wash his hands, and brush his teeth. Wrapping up in a condom, he returned with lube and a hand towel.

She was primed and ready, remembering his possession and the feel of them together.

Throwing back the covers, Quake looked at her hardened nipples and the hand she had shoved in her crotch.

“Did I give you permission to play with yourself?” he growled, his eyes darkening, his words laced with a delicious thread of menace. He had all the trademarks of a natural Dominant. Why hadn’t she noticed before?

“No, Sir,” she replied but she didn’t take her hand away, either.

Just that fast, he rolled her onto her stomach and swatted her ass, five hard strokes on each side, painting her bottom red.

“Hands above your head,” he ordered. “Grab the headboard and don’t let go until I tell you. The way I’m feeling, you’re in for a rough ride.”

14

Quake was pleased when Magenta obeyed him, her body responding to the dark promise in his voice.

Kneeling behind her, he lubed his length and greased her up, stretching her out with his fingers. Wiping his hand clean on the towel, he kicked her legs apart and climbed between them, finding her most intimate opening and pushing his way inside.

She panted, forcing herself to relax. Maybe he should talk more, remind her that this was him, not Khan. He was a Dragon, not a whoremaster. A gargoyle, not a jackal son of a bitch.

“That’s it, duchess,” he crooned. “That’s a good girl. Relax and let me in.”

Quake worked his way inside until he more than filled her. Stretching her out, he tunneled in deeper until his pubic bone was pressed against her bottom and his balls were bouncing against her box.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “Fuck if you don’t feel like heaven. I’ll try to go easy on you, sweetheart, but it’s gonna be hard not to cut loose.”

Knowing the Death’s Head MC, Khan would have relished causing her pain. Quake focused on her pleasure, giving her multiple orgasms before finding his release. He bit the back of her neck and drove in deep, body jerking, shooting his wad, and filling the end of his condom.

Magenta keened, arching back into him. “Quake!”

“I’ve got you,” he panted, kissing her nape where his teeth had bitten down. “Fuck that was . . .”

Quake couldn’t find the words. He’d been with plenty of partners before but there was something about this woman that made him forget all the ones who had gone before.

Carefully pulling out, he rid himself of the condom and tied a knot in the end, chucking it in the bin by the wall.

Lying beside her on the mattress, he tugged her against him. Cradled in his arms, she felt . . . right.

More than right.

Perfect.

Trying to think of something poetic to say, he was interrupted when her stomach growled loudly.

Pressing her hand to her tummy, Magenta laughed. “I think we missed breakfast.”

“No, I just haven’t brought it up yet.” Quake grinned, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

She looked up at him, lips curved in a tempting smile that made him want to stay where they were for the rest of the day. “Breakfast in bed? A girl could get used to something like that.”

So could he, if Magenta was that girl.

The thought of her going back to The Pole Barn and fucking other men made sparks of jealousy stir inside him. She wasn’t his. Yet the thought of anyone else sleeping with her brought a primitive urge to warn off any other male.

“You’re frowning.”

Quake snapped his gaze to hers. “I’ve been thinking about what to feed you.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but betraying his thoughts was something he knew better than to do. The women at her club didn’t have relationships. If he told her he wanted to see her outside work, it could send her running.

Her stomach growled again.

Climbing off the bed, Quake grabbed his jeans. “I’ll be back in a bit. You can use whatever you need if you want to take a shower.”

Magenta stretched languidly but stayed where she was, lounging naked on the mattress. “Thanks.”

It took everything Quake had to force himself to go downstairs and forage for food. What was it about this woman he found so alluring?

A few of his