She breaks from Viking, gasping in air, unfocused eyes meeting mine, and I can see she’s lost in the pleasure. “What?”
“To drop a load in this tight snatch.”
She lets out a throaty whine while shivering.
“That’s not a good idea,” she says and drops her eyes.
“Why the fuck not?” Viking grips her chin and forces her head up to look at us.
“I’m not protected.”
We share a groan, my dick hardening painfully. My friend is clearly feeling the same.
“Sprite.” I trail a finger across her bottom lip, and her mouth opens. It slides across her tongue, and I damn near come in my pants when she sucks on it. “We don’t care.” Did we ever think about kids before? No. Fuck, no. But seeing our president and road captain have one with their ol’ lady, I know it’s possible now.
“But–” She starts to protest when Viking stops her with a finger on her lips. “No buts, hellcat, we’re asking for this one thing.” Nipping at her jaw, I hear him murmur in her ear, “Give it to us.”
Her eyes close; she’s thinking about it. She’s trying to decide if it’s worth the risk. If we’re worth the risk. “Okay, but only if you tell me something.”
“What?” I ask, eagerness making my dick leak like a faucet.
“Your real names and how you got your road names.” Seems reasonable enough.
“You sure you’re ready for that?” Vik asks her, his story slightly more gruesome than mine.
“If this is going to work, I’m going to have to accept all the gritty parts of you, right?” We nod. “So, then I don’t get a choice in that. I have to know something personal about you both, please.”
“Emrys Cox,” I tell her.
“Emrys,” she repeats, her eyes mapping my face. “It suits you.” My brows raise because I’m not sure I agree, but whatever. “How’d you come across Priest?”
Huffing out a breath, my fingers trail down her body, stopping at her pussy where I rub circles around her clit, so gently she can hardly feel it. “The first man I ever killed was a priest. He beat his wife until she was too broken to move, then forced her to watch him drown their three children in the church’s baptism pool.” Tears crowd her eyes. “The wife lived long enough for me to exact revenge, then she killed herself too.”
“That’s horrifying.” She hiccups when I tap her bundle of nerves that swells with each pass of my finger.
“It was,” I agree. “He was the first in a line of many before I joined the Kings of Anarchy.” Her eyes widen, obviously surprised. “That going to bother you?”
She shakes her head before looking to Viking.
“Atlas Taylor is my birth name. Haven’t said it in a long fucking time.”
I know exactly what this is costing my friend.
“Wasn’t expecting that.” Logan brushes her hands up and down his chest as she leans into him, obviously sensing the tension. “How did you come by Viking?”
“I chopped up a foster parent and was covered in blood when I was found. The girl I saved said I reminded her of a Viking pillager. It stuck.” His eyes glaze over, and I can tell he’s remembering the kill that set his future in stone.
Logan doesn’t say anything as she rests her head over his heart and her hands around his waist. She might be young, but fuck does she understand the hardships of life.
“Your turn. We want to know more about who made you run away.” Gliding a hand up her back, I tangle my fingers in her hair and tug until she looks at us both. “Don’t make us ask again,” I warn with a growl.
With a sharp intake of breath, she finally gives us what we want. “My stepdad has been molesting me since I was ten. His son Connor started soon after. It feels like I’ve been waiting for one or both of them to rape me every single night. They’ve forced things on me, forced me to do things to them, but that’s all it was for years. The night I ran, I had barricaded myself in my room when Ian broke in while I was sleeping. I bashed him over the head with a hardcover book and took off to my best friend’s house. She and her brother helped me get here.”
The air crackles with our red-hot rage as we both plan out their deaths in our heads. “You’ll give me pictures and addresses because, sprite, this is the last time you’re giving them any headspace for the rest of your life.” I expect her to protest, but this woman fucking shocks me by nodding and sagging with relief into Viking’s chest.
“Now, show us to your room because we had a fucking deal,” Viking murmurs.
“Oh…uhm…do you think we could do that at your clubhouse?” The suggestion surprises me. “No, wait, Trista doesn’t want me there.”
