Marcus wants Corin, but his hands are covered in blood, his soul dark. He isn’t a good man, but he can also see her home life is rocky, and that she has a wall around herself. Part of him wants to be good for her.
Corin’s life changed five years ago. She’s a loner, and has isolated herself. And then she meets a hardened biker, one that defends her even though she means nothing to him. He’s rough around the edges, coarse, and a little scary—but he’s all she can think about.
Being the son of The Brothers of Menace VP means Marcus is used to the gritty world of violence and death. But even if Corin’s too good for him he still wants her for himself. He doesn’t know if she fully knows that giving herself to him means she is his irrevocably.
Be Warned: anal play, spanking
“I’ll make it so good for you, Corin,” he said against her mouth, not touching her lips, but he had her mouth feeling like it was swelling as blood rushed to the surface.
“I’m your first,” he said on a groan, smoothed his fingers over her cheek, and she felt his hand shake slightly. “And I’ll be your fucking last,” he said possessively, fiercely, and she knew without a doubt he was telling the truth. It was this power that slammed into her, this heat and gust of energy that told her this man didn’t say things like that lightly.
“Marcus,” she said his name softly, because that was the only word she could form at that moment.
“Your cherry is mine.”
Her lungs tightened, the air leaving them at his words. He stroked her lips with his tongue, and moved his hand down her chest, over her belly, and rested it right between her thighs.
“Your pussy is mine.” He pulled at her bottom lip with his teeth until she groaned, and he slipped his hand inside the waistband of her underwear, but didn’t so much as rub her clit. “You are mine.”
She felt that truth deep in her body, and knew without a doubt he meant every word despite the short time they’d actually known each other. He took a few steps back, started removing his cut, and then went for his t-shirt. When he was shirtless, and started working at undoing his belt, button, and zipper, she stared at his chest, because damn, she just couldn’t help it.
Hard planes of muscle covered every inch of his broad chest. The dark bands of ink around one of his arms, the saying he had on his forearm, and the other tattoos that covered his body were works of art and told of a story. And then there was the large tattoo on the side of his abdomen, one that snaked all the way to his back. It was a masterful piece, and was the same logo The Brothers of Menace sported.
Because she couldn’t help herself, she let her gaze travel lower. A line of dark hair started below his navel and made a trail down his rippling, six-pack covered abdomen to disappear beneath his jeans. The low throb that had been present between her thighs now became a fierce pounding that demanded notice.
“Your body was made for me, Corin.” His voice was low and filled with heat. He finished getting undressed, and now stood there completely naked, unashamed or bashful of his nudity. His cock was rock hard for her, standing straight, thick and huge between his thighs. “I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you.”
“You’re just saying that,” she said, her voice shaky, trembling because of her nerves and arousal.
He took a step closer. “I don’t lie, ever, Corin.”
The masculine scent that came from him had her nipples tightening, had her toes curling.
“If only you knew that I’d seriously bring down anyone that hurt you…” His words were low and deep and held a hell of a lot of threat. “I’d scare you if you knew the intensity of that, Corin.”
The thick erection he sported had her clenching her thighs together as need overtook her. Corin didn’t say anything, couldn’t even form words at that moment.
She stood, her knees shaking, her legs threatening to give out on her, and took a step closer. They stood toe-to-toe now, the largeness of his body blocking out everything behind him. The force of his breathing brushed across her face, ruffling the tendrils of her hair in a soft caress. His chest rose and fell quick and hard, and the pulse at the base of his throat beat wildly. Was her need just as evident as his?
Her hands shook, but she lifted them and placed them on his hard, rippled abdomen. The hard muscles clenched under her palm, and she slid her hands up the rolling, defined hills of his chest, along his tattoos until she was tracing the lines of that ink with her fingertips.
When she rested her hands on each of his pecs the beat of his heart was strong and steady, so unlike her rapidly pounding one.
“Corin,” he said her name on a harsh whisper.
If she derailed from what she wanted to do and did end up stopping this she would hate herself. She leaned into him, felt the heat from his body seep into hers, and closed her eyes. It felt good to feel his warmth. When she looked into his face, the fierce expression of desire reflected back at her increased her pulse and her lust for him. Here she was, in nothing but her undergarments, with this feared MC biker naked and wanting her. Very gently she curled her fingers into the hard, yet pliant flesh at his chest.
“Be my first, Marcus. I want that so badly.”
He took her hand, held it on his chest, right over his heart, and said in a low voice, “I’ll be your first. I’ll be your only, Corin. You’re mine, and there isn’t anyone or anything that will stop me from having you.”