Page 55 of North’s Claim

His place and secret. And now mine too.

He doesn’t say a word when his hands grip my hips and drag me forward, until I’m flush against the front of him. The thick ridge straining against his jeans leaves no question what he’s thinking. My breath snags, and I swear my pulse matches the phantom rumble of the Harley beneath us.

He leans in, his mouth brushing my ear. “Still want to play stubborn?”

A shiver slices down my spine. “That depends… on the rules.”

His low chuckle is pure sin. “The only rule is you hold on.”

Then the zipper’s down and he frees himself, and Jesus, I forget how to breathe. The metal of his piercing catches the faint light, and my thighs clench.

I’m about to move but he keeps me in place. “You won’t tear my damn leggings.”

He smirks but lets me get down and take one leg off but before getting back I bend down and grab his cock. Wrapping my lips around it makes him suck through his teeth. The reaction reaches right between my thighs. I tease the piercing with my tongue until he fists my hair and keeps me in place while fucking my mouth like a possessed man. Each thrust makes my pussy clench, feeling it get even wetter. He yanks me back and I get lost in those stormy eyes. I let some saliva drip on his dick, making him curse.

“Hop here, Firefly.”

I do because I need him deep in me.

He drags my panties aside, not tearing this time, but there’s nothing gentle about the way he fists my hair and yanks my mouth to his in a kiss that’s all teeth and claim. His other hand guides me down onto him, the blunt head stretches me, forcing me open until I take every inch.

The bike rocks under us with the force of it, the leather seat slick against my thighs. My nails dig into his cut, my forehead pressed to his as he starts to move, deep, deliberate thrusts that make the world dissolve into sound and sensation.

“Vince…” His real name slips out before I can stop it, the one I only just learned, the one that feels too intimate to say out loud.

He freezes for a second. Just one. His eyes lock on mine like I’ve just cut through every wall he’s ever built. Then he snaps his hips up, burying himself so deep I swear I see stars.

“Say it again,” he growls, voice jagged.

“Vince, oh, fuck…”

He fucks me harder, the metal of his piercing dragging against every nerve inside me, each thrust building until I’m a mess of breathless moans. The night air is cool on my overheated skin, the scent of pine mixing with leather, sweat, and him.

When it hits, it’s violent, my body seizing around him, my voice breaking into a scream that’s half pleasure, half surrender.

His own release crashes into me seconds later, a guttural sound tearing from his throat, his grip bruising on my hips as if he can keep me anchored while the world falls away.

We stay like that, breathing hard, my cheek against his shoulder, his hand still tangled in my hair. And even though he says nothing… I can feel it. Something shifted.

Chapter 18

North

The air in the clubhouse lot is heavy with engine oil and late-summer heat, the kind that makes the asphalt breathe waves.

Sweat beads at my temple before I even lift a damn finger. It slides slow down my jaw, mixing with the smell of gasoline and the faint tang of burnt coffee still in my mouth.

The prospects are loading the crates into the van like it’s their first day on a job site, jerky movements, nervous glances at me, as if I’ll snap their necks if they scuff the paint on one box.

“Handle it like it’s your dick,” Rook barks from behind, lighting a smoke. “Don’t drop it and don’t bang it into shit.”

Soul grins, leaning against his bike, sweat darkening the neckline of his cut. “That explains why the last load was late. Prospect probably had to stop halfway and cry over it.”

I ignore them and run my hand along the straps securing the crates in place. The nylon is coarse under my palm, gritty from dust. I tug hard, I want to feel that bite into my skin, then check each latch.

One of the kids hovers, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. “They’re tight, Prez.”

“Check again,” I tell him without looking up, “before I make you drink it all and piss it back out.”