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“Think you can be quiet for me?” he asked softly.
I already knew that would be a big no. Tango made me go fucking crazy. He had a way of making me lose my mind, make my mind completely blank until complete nonsense slipped past my lips.
“No,” I told him honestly.
He hummed, his brow arching the tiniest bit. “You got a thing against me gagging you?”
My breathing quickened. “With what?” I rasped, my cock leaking. I was so fucking needy.
I jerked when the tip of my cock touched his, and a shiver raced down my spine, a moan crawling up my throat before I could even attempt to swallow it down.
Tango held up his other hand. “My fingers.”
I nodded. “That’s fine.”
He kissed me then, his tongue immediately probing between my lips. I groaned low in my throat as he backed me up against the wall. We didn’t have time for foreplay; I knew that. And I didn’t care. I was desperate to have him inside of me again after the shitty past couple of days we’d had. I needed the reassurance of his cock filling me, his cum stuffing me full.
He spun me around to face the wall, and when my lips parted on a gasp, he shoved two thick fingers between my lips. I closed my lips around them, sucking on them as if they were his cock. He growled, and a moment later, I felt his slick finger probing at my hole. I whined, the sound muffled by his fingers as he worked me open. I pushed back, bending slightly, my legs sliding apart to give him more access.
“Such a good boy for me,” Tango rumbled, scissoring me open even more. I moaned, saliva dripping from the corners of my mouth and dripping down my chin. My eyes rolled back in my head when his fingers brushed over my prostate, and I whined, my hole clenching around him.
He slid his fingers out of me, making me feel empty and lost, but then his cock was pressing against my hole, pushing in. I groaned, my head falling forward, gagging myself on his fingers, but on instinct, my throat relaxed. He moaned behind me as he pushed further inside.
“So perfect, baby boy.” A shiver raced down my spine. “Just fucking right for me.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, his arm banding around my waist. I moaned when his fingers wrapped around my cock, and he began to pump my prick in time with his thrusts. My mind blanked. Muffled noises spilled from my lips. Tingles rushed through my body, heading straight for my balls until they drew up tight, and I spilled into Tango’s fists with a muffled cry, my eyes rolling back in my head.
Tango snarled and fucked into me harder—faster—until he was spilling inside of me. I slumped into his arms, and he caught me, holding me tight against him. Gently turning me around, he pressed my back to the wall and molded our bodies together, kissing me soft and slow.
“I love you,” I slurred, still cum drunk.
He brushed his lips to my cheek before kissing me again. “I love you, too, baby boy. You’re my entire fucking world.” He cupped my chin, stroking his thumb over my cheek. “And no one will fucking touch you.”
I smiled.
20
Tango
Almost three weeks passed in a routine of helping Ricardo tend to his animals and plants, lounging around, and just enjoying life for the first time since I’d taken Gabriel in and silently claimed him as mine. Gabriel was truly thriving, his shoulders and body language more relaxed than I’d seen in him ever. It gave me ideas of what I could give him when his father was taken care of. What I could turn our home into.
More land. Animals. Dogs. He definitely needed some dogs to follow him around and guard him when I couldn’t be there. He also needed a service dog for his severe anxiety—one trained to bring him out of his head and coax him to regulate his breathing again. Maybe I could even get him a couple of cats to cuddle with. And maybe when spring rolled around, he and I could plant some vegetables and some fruit trees, which would give him some responsibilities. Some structure. Gabriel thrived when he had certain things expected of him.
Even Ricardo had given me some tips and pointers on how to help us live off the land better, which I thought would be perfect for Gabriel. Sure, I still had a responsibility to the club; I would never leave Satan’s Worshippers, but we wouldn’t be needed in town much. The majority of everything we needed would be right there on our property.
I would do anything to keep Gabriel smiling like this. Relaxed like this. Fucking happy.
And with that came the realization that I would give up the club if I needed to. If Gabriel truly needed me to step away from that life, I would in a heartbeat. I would get my inked blacked out, and I would hand over my cut.
He was the most important thing to me. My fucking priority. Nothing came before him. Which, in reality, violated the fuck out of the oath I took—the oath that meant the club always came first—but when it came to my boy, that oath didn’t mean shit.
Some men, like Scorpion and Chase, continued to put the club above their old ladies. But I knew I couldn’t do that—not with Gabriel. Our bond was… stronger than that. It was so strong, some days it threatened to fucking consume me.
I could barely breathe unless he was in my eyesight.
I jerked my head up from watching Gabriel brush the tied-up horse when the sound of bikes reached my ears. Cursing, I reached for my boy, but he was already standing up, his hand reaching for mine. My fingers wrapped around his, and I tugged him to me, every muscle in my body tensing and preparing for an attack. Ricardo rushed out of the chicken coop, pointing to the woods. “Go,” he ordered. “I’ll handle this.”
While losing Ricardo would hurt like hell, I would still choose to protect Gabriel over helping him. And I knew he knew that, just as I knew my boy had managed to soften Ricardo just as he’d done everyone else. Ricardo had a soft spot for him, and I knew he would protect Gabriel just as he’d protected me that day in the desert.
Ricardo could handle his own. I had to trust that.
