Page 21 of Diary of a Biker Queen

“You,” I whispered. “I want you.”

He snorted on a harsh laugh. “Oh, that’s fucking rich.”

But when I said nothing, making it clear I had meant every word, his eyes went hard again. “Too fucking bad, Nyah. I don’t want you.”

But that was a lie. I was sure of it. My gaze lowered to his dick, and it hardened instantly, standing at full mast, thick and strong, just like the rest of him.

He was so beautiful.

And I’d hurt him so badly.

I just wanted to make that better. Wanted his forgiveness, and I didn’t know what else to do other than to offer myself to him.

I pulled off my shirt and stood in front of him, naked, waiting, hoping he’d tell me to get over there and get on my knees for him.

Heat flared in his eyes, and his gaze drifted over my naked body.

I stepped toward him and instantly wished I hadn’t. Because that simple movement of trying to close the space between us triggered him.

“Let me touch you,” I said quickly. “I can—”

“No.” His voice was all growl and threat. “I’m not fucking doing this with you. I’m not fucking you to make you feel better.”

I shook my head. “That’s not what I—”

“Isn’t it? Isn’t that exactly what you meant? The guilt is written all over your face. And good. It should be. I started a fucking war for you. A war where men will die. Hell, I’ll probably be buried six feet under before the month is out. And that’ll be on your head, not mine.”

The words weren’t entirely fair. Part of Luca’s defiance toward his father and uncle came down to more than just saving me. There was his sister, his own dark past, carrying out the things his father had demanded. It wasn’t all on my shoulders.

But he wasn’t wrong that I was also to blame. And that I was trying to make myself feel better.

I deserved whatever punishment he was going to dole out.

“Stand there and watch,” he said in a voice so guttural it had me clenching my thighs together.

I would have done anything he’d said in that moment. That was the power the attraction between us had on my body.

His hands slid down his body, fingers moving in waves over the ridges of his abs until he got to his cock. He gripped his base and stroked himself patiently, torturously slow, more so for my benefit than his, I was sure.

He’d taken a punishment for me. And now he was doling out one of his own.

I didn’t dare move, even though the need inside me demanded to. It begged and pleaded to go to him, to fit my fingers around his, to take over, to touch him, lick him, get on my knees and put my mouth on him.

And yet, I knew if I moved so much as an inch closer, he wouldn’t allow it.

My punishment was standing here watching him and knowing he wasn’t ever going to be mine. That maybe he could have been, if things had been different, but I’d ruined any hope of that with lies.

He stared at me while he stroked himself, his dick so thick and impossibly hard it looked painful. But there was no pleasure in his face. Nothing but the pure, intense anger that was solely directed at me.

His hand fell away from his cock, dropping lower, rubbing soap over his balls and between the thick thighs I so desperately wanted to touch. He found the spot between his legs that clearly felt good and stroked it, his other hand coming back up to pump his shaft again.

He was big enough to use both hands on his cock, and he did, fucking into his grip, both hands tight, squeezing the head until it leaked with precum.

He made tiny noises in the back of his throat, and his head dropped back, so water splashed down over his face. But he didn’t need to hold my gaze to torture me. What he was doing to himself, watching him like this, was all the punishment I needed to make me understand what I had lost.

I pressed my thighs together again, the heat inside me so fiery I needed to release it. I’d had an orgasm at Dax’s fingers just the night before, and yet watching Luca made me feel like I hadn’t been touched in a million years. I slid my fingers between my thighs, touching my clit, searching for my entrance so I could give the hollow feeling inside me something for relief.

I hadn’t even realized he was watching, but his sharp, biting, “No,” stopped me. I opened my eyes and realized he was staring at me.