Call My Name (Fallen Angels MC Book 3) (8 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

She didn’t remember later how they all got back to Mason’s place. She didn’t have her helmet or her jacket, and Mason hadn’t brought them with him, he’d been so frantic when he got her text. He told her, when she asked, that Jack had driven her car to his place, and Missy had driven their car, while Mason took his bike, but it was all a blur to her.

She was walking into Mason’s house when the shockwave broke and she fell entirely to pieces. She remembered him picking her up carefully, tucking blankets around her on the couch as tightly as he could, and then just holding her while she alternated crying and dozing.

Eventually, she slept.

When she woke up, they drove south and got Gloria. Emily looked him over, then shook his hand. She didn’t comment on the fact that Caroline had managed to acquire another stellar black eye. Caroline assumed that someone had updated her in the past 24 hours; she was too overwhelmed with the joy of seeing Gloria again, being kissed and licked and played with, that she didn’t bother to think about it too much.

On the way home, with Gloria in the backseat and one hand on the steering wheel, she reached over and wrapped her fingers through Mason’s. “Thank you,” she said.

He glanced back at her from studying the mountains they were driving through. “What for?”

“I saw the text you sent. I mean, I didn’t see it until this morning, but I saw it.”

He made a neutral noise, somewhere between a grunt and a cough.

She glanced at him for just a moment. “I love you, I’m on my way?”

He shrugged. “I do, and I was. I didn’t want you to feel alone.”

“We’d just had a big fight, and you came without asking for anything.”

Another one of those noises, and she chose to interpret it to mean, “Of course, and I’d do it again.” She’d probably probe for clarification later, but for now, that was enough.

“So what happened, anyway? How did you guys get me out of there?”

Mason gave another calm shrug. “Nothing fancy. He wasn’t actually holding you on anything anyway, just wanted to scare you. You gave Munch the file; he looked into it, and realized that he’d heard Declan talking to that guy the same afternoon he went missing. He told me, we talked to Jack’s friend, he took the file and found Randall’s fingerprints. Especially once he took you, and hit you, IA was sure they had enough to hang him up. Might even get tried for murder.”

“Did they find a body?”

“Not sure, but if they do, it’ll be his door they knock at.”

She drove a little longer in silence. “You okay with that?”

He didn’t look away from the mountains, and his voice was distant and chilled, the tone something she was starting to think of as his soldier voice. “I figure, even if he wasn’t involved in this particular homicide, doesn’t mean his hands were clean. He put guns on the streets and girls into cages. I’ll be able to sleep at night, whatever comes.” He looked at her, then, his gaze heavy and intense. “You?”

Caroline’s turn to shrug. “As far as I know, the guy’s a missing person. I don’t have anything to worry about.” A weight fell off her shoulders as she said it. Maybe he was right. Maybe, very rarely, it was better not to know. Maybe once in a while, it was better to trust someone else.

Mason squeezed her hand and turned his eyes back to the mountains.

At Mason’s apartment, Gloria was thrilled by the new digs. Mason had gone shopping at some point, and she had new squeaky toys and a chew bone, a new water bowl, and food dish. She ran in circles for half an hour, exploring everything, then curled up on the couch with her tail over her nose and passed out. Mason watched her, a beer in his hand, grinning like a kid. “That’s my spot, mutt,” he grumbled happily. “Don’t get too used to it.”

“Think we’ll be here long enough to get used to it?” Caroline asked.

He held out a hand and reeled her in, tight against him. “I think that depends on you, baby.”

She gave him a questioning look as he swayed them softly from side to side.

“Well, first off, do you want to stay? Do you think we can find a common ground? I can’t give up the club; I won’t.”

“I don’t want you to,” she said. “They’re your family, and they make you whole. But I’m scared that you’ll go to the dark side, somehow.”

“Nope,” he said, setting the beer down and holding her with both hands now. “Because I’ve got this beautiful girl who wants one of the good guys.”

“No guns,” she said. “No hard drugs. No selling women.” She thought about it for a moment. “Something like what the club was supposed to be, where girls—and guys—could dance and make some good money and feel good about that, and safe? That kind of thing I’d help you get off the ground myself.”

“The club idea is a good one, if we could get the permits legally. The rest of it—baby, I promise you. No guns, no drugs, no unwilling women. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that stuff anyway. Knowing I’d lose you is just the cherry on the ‘nope’ sundae.”

She couldn’t keep a straight face after that, and he kissed her neck while she laughed. It sent a flurry of energy through her, swirling out to the tips of her breasts and the space between her thighs, filling her with want and need and desire. She sighed as he pulled her harder against him, his hands tight on her waist, his body tightening against her. His hands drifted down to her ass, grinding against her. “Kids are asleep,” he said, running his lips down her neck and making her shiver. “What do you say?”

“Please? I think that’s the magic word, isn’t it?”

“You know what would be fun?” He teased her earlobe with his teeth, and she felt her knees going soft. “If the magic word for me was Ma’am.”

She leaned back a bit and raised an eyebrow at him. “As in yes, Ma’am, please, Ma’am?”

He nodded. “If you’re up for that.”

The surge of heat and wetness in her panties said yes. “I seem to recall you losing a bet the other night. Want to pay up?”

The tension was so subtle she almost didn’t catch it. “Yes,” he said, but there was a reservation, a subtle change.

“Hey, love,” she said, trying out the endearment and liking how it felt on her tongue. “Talk to me. What’s up?”

He took her hand and led her into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. She sat on the end of the bed, but he paced for a moment. “So, it’s like this,” he said, finally. “The thing I said— I kind of exaggerated how much I’ve done. Anally. I mean, I
want
to, but I’ve never… have you?”

She kept her face calm and serious, steadfastly refusing to let the giggles to the surface. “I’ve been on the receiving end—as you know—but not the giving end. Honestly, if you haven’t—I’d love to explore with you, but going slowly is probably going to be our best bet here. I have been fucked by guys who don’t know what they’re doing, and believe you me, it’s not how we start out.”

“I want to give you a present,” he said. “I want to give you the control you didn’t have yesterday. I want to be open for you.”

Not giggling at his awkwardness was becoming more and more difficult. “You look incredibly uncomfortable, Mase. That’s not what I’m looking for here. I care more about being close to you, about the way it makes me feel to touch you, than I do about the specific positions we’re in while I touch you.” She reached out, and he stopped his pacing and took her hand. “Besides, there’s lots of ways to play without me needing to peg your ass. We could work up to it. If you want.”

It was the heat roaring through his eyes that convinced her, as much as his words. “I want,” he said.

CHAPTER SEVETEEN

He sat down next to her and she stood, tugging his shirt out of his jeans as she kissed him, soft and light. He sighed under her touch, whimpering when she straddled him. His hands went to her waist, then up to her breasts, and she pushed them gently away. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she said, catching his eyes and grinning to take some of the sting out of the words.

He nodded, his lips parted as he breathed just a little faster than usual. “I think someone has been concealing a bit of a Domme streak.”

“Maybe just a little,” she said, and shifted her hips against him. His eyes rolled, but he held himself still. “Good boy.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” His voice was breathy and thin, and just that was almost enough to put her over the edge. She hadn’t thought it would feel this good to be giving orders, to see him softening—well, emotionally softening—beneath her as he accepted what she told him.

“You feel very hard,” she whispered, grinding against him in a soft rhythm, just a touch slower than he liked in this position.

“Yes,” he replied. “Very yes.”

“Your jeans must be uncomfortable.”

“
Mmmhmmm
.”

“Shame I’m going to make you keep them on until I’m ready to fuck you, then, isn’t it?”

He groaned heavily, and she loved it, drank it up, as his hands fisted in the comforter and his breath moved even faster. Her clit felt heavy and aching between her thighs, swollen and demanding.

She slipped off his lap, moving slowly as she stripped off her T-shirt and her jeans. Her panties and her bra, she left on. She crawled back into his lap, listening to him pant. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, I need to touch you.”

“You need to wait,” she said, pushing him down with one finger tip. He went over easily, and she found a certain charm in the way he was giving her this. She could see the sparkle in his eyes, and knew without a doubt that he could easily stop the whole thing if he wanted to. The trust he was giving her right now, the belief that she would not give him more than he could handle—that was magical. And hot. Oh, so incredibly hot.

She leaned over him, bringing her lips to his, and felt his whole body reach for her, embracing her with everything from his skin to his aura without moving his hands from where she’d put them. “Am I driving you this crazy already?”

“Yes,” he murmured through his teeth.

“Yes, what?” Through her bra, her nipples had hardened into iron points, and her bra was thin, barely fabric, no padding or molding. She dragged the razor edges over his skin, listening to him hiss and whimper at the sensations.

It took him just a moment. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She laughed and teased her hips over his again, watching his teeth close on his lip, watching his eyes roll shut. She leaned over him again, and delicately touched her tongue to the tight, pale nub of his nipple, and watched his eyes carefully. The way they shot wide, the way his breathing was suddenly just as tight as his skin, told her what she needed to know.

She teased him with her tongue first, flickering it over the hardening flesh, then grazed him lightly with his teeth. His body arched under her; the reaction was less dramatic than when she teased up the length of his cock, but only just.

Her panties were soaked, and the energy of his excitement was transferred to her in every point of contact on their skin. She found herself grinding against his erection, her own breath tight and panting. “Touch me,” she whispered into his body. “Make me come while you watch.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he groaned, and she expected him to roll her onto her back, or just reach down between them, but instead, he bent his knees up, resting his feet on the bed, and then pushed her back so that she was leaning back, her pussy splayed before him, her panties between them.

His fingers traced the elastic edges of her panties for just a moment before he dove underneath, sliding fore and back, teasing at both of her openings together.

“Like this,” he whispered. “I want you to touch me like this.” She was soaking in her own wetness, drenched enough that it was easy for him to press inside of her ass, just a little, just enough to make her groan and relax, thrusting down onto his fingers.

The sensations overwhelmed her so much that when he slid another finger into her body, the fullness almost shattered her without warning. “I want to be this open for you. I want to give you what you are giving me right now, in this moment.”

“Yes,” she whispered, over and over.

She tried to remind herself that she was the one in control right now, and push away the fear. It stood between her and the oncoming storm of her orgasm, and she tried to relax, tried to let it all go, tried to just feel the urgent, desperate desire of him opening her body, thrusting into her with his hands. “Oh, god, yes, please.”

His eyes drank her in, and she could sense him memorizing her every thrust and groan. She was swirling around the release she so badly needed, desperate to give up, to let it go. She was so used to his weight holding her down—either pressing her down into the mattress, or his hands holding her hips as she thrust down onto him—and this was something entirely other. Any single spasm could be strong enough to heave her up, to thrust her off the bed with enough force to break gravity, to sail into orbit, to shatter into a thousand starry pieces.

Whether he knew what was happening, or just guessing, he did the perfect thing. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love watching you, I love seeing you like this. I love the way you move, the way you come for me. I love you, Caroline, I love you so much.”

She shattered on his words, slamming down on his hands so hard that she could feel the button of his jeans grinding into her tailbone, feel the denim against her back hiss over her skin, leaving her burned and sore and shattered, aftershocks as strong as some orgasms making her convulse around his hand again as she milked his fingers, her head draped back over his knees, and struggled to find all the pieces of herself that had tumbled down among the sheets.

When she could breathe, she leaned over and kissed him softly, almost delicately, while he ran his thumbs over her softened nipples. “I thought we were making you feel good,” she teased lightly, and he laughed.

“This does make me feel good,” he said, then wiggled underneath her. “I’m not going to lie, though, I’d be happy to continue to feel good.”

She wasted no time unbuttoning his jeans and helping him slid them off his narrow hips. His cock was hard, throbbing and urgent, and she resisted the urge to lean over and press a kiss to his glistening head. There would be time for that later. Right now, she had a toy box to explore.

The idea of him having a specific toy box was intriguing. She had a couple of things she’d kept in her nightstand, but never enough of a collection to have a specific place to keep them all. She’d never imagined that her soldier-turned-biker boyfriend would be the one with enough variety of toys that he decided to keep them in their own special location.

She found condoms, a couple different kinds of lube, a strap-on rig, and a couple of dildos in different sizes and degrees of realism that were intriguing possibilities for later. Soft ropes, handcuffs. And then, in a soft, velvety pouch, she found what she’d been hoping to find. She took the cold, glass butt plug, and brought it back to the bed along with the lube.

“You still okay?” she asked.

He nodded, but the motion was too fast and too fierce. She laid the toy aside and ran her hands over his stomach, dragging his attention up to her eyes.

“I’m not going to do anything that makes you unhappy or uncomfortable,” she said, hoping her voice came through as calm and careful and trustworthy as she wanted it to. “If I do accidentally, tell me to stop, and I will stop. I promise you, Mase. I do not want to hurt you, not at all.”

She watched his eyes close, watched him inhale and exhale deeply. “It’s hard,” he said, almost conversationally, which nearly brought back a giggle fit combined with his swollen, erect cock. “It’s hard trusting again.”

“I hear that,” Caroline whispered. “Do I ever. And if what you need me to do right now is to put this away and play an entirely different way, then I’m absolutely okay with that.”

He shook his head, his eyes seeking hers and finding them. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m trying to say that I do trust you already. With everything. It’s hard to do it, to keep doing it, but I am. I trust you. And I really want to see you fucking my ass, so if this is how you want to start? I’m game.”

She kissed him, as fierce and as hard as she could. His hands were wild, tracing over her face, her shoulders, her back, clinging hard to her. He protected her just as much as she was protecting him. And Caroline was okay with that. It felt nice to have protecting be mutual. Safe.

And then he groaned, his naked cock bucking up against her inner thigh, and she grinned. She teased his nipples again, hardening them into tiny mountains that made him hiss and thrust at the air when she touched them. She swirled her tongue through his navel, making him giggle and push her gently away, and then made him put his hands behind his head and cope with it as she tickled him lightly with her tongue and teeth. She felt his cock grow harder and his hands clenched into the sheets, his forearms working as she quietly told him that he belonged to her, that he was hers, that he had to do what she wanted, unless he wanted to call the whole thing off.

“Please, Ma’am,” he whispered. “Please, don’t stop. Please keep going. Please.”

She kissed her way down the narrow trail of red hair that led from his naval to the base of his cock, and in one smooth motion, she licked from the base up to the tip. He groaned again, his hips lifting as he tried to bury himself in her mouth, but she dodged him, and pinched his inner thigh to make him gasp. “I seem to recall you wanting me to be the boss of this,” she chided, and he panted for a moment before nodding.

She took the toy, tracing a line of lube down its smooth shape, and then delicately teased the tip against the puckered opening of his ass. “I’m going to tease into you just a little,” she said. “Remember that I don’t have the kind of sensation you do when I do this. I need you to tell me if something doesn’t feel good—and if it feels great. Okay?”

He nodded, too swollen and needy for words; even before she eased the tip inside of him, the head of his cock glistened with fluid. She leaned down again, taking him in her mouth, and feeling the soft release as he surged upwards, his body opening and letting her glide the toy just a little inside of his body. She pulled back at the same time that she worked up his dick with her teeth and tongue, and then, when he was aching with just the tip of him in her mouth, just the tip of the toy in his ass, she pressed forward again, moving her mouth and the toy together, easing him open just a little farther.

He took his knees, lifting them, separating them. “More,” he panted. “More. All of it. Gimme.”

“Yes,” she breathed over him, but she still kept the motion slow as she filled his ass with the cold, glass toy. The sound he made came from his toes, and his hands tightened so hard on the sheets that she expected to hear them rip. He trembled in her mouth, and she relaxed her throat, ready to catch his spasm if he burst for her, but his eyes opened, locked on hers as small waves of fluid pulsed in time with his jerks against her.

“Not gonna last,” he murmured. “Amazing. Ride me. Want you—in you—in my ass—
now
—“

She let him fall out of her mouth and moved forward, straddling his body. He fit into her easily, sliding into her warm, wet, open body. She trembled as he sheathed into the depths of her, surprised by the shockwave of want that ran through her. Though she didn’t know why she should be, really; he was amazing, each and every time.

His hands came to her hips, ready to pound into her, and she grabbed them, leaning down, pinning them above his head with her weight. She watched his eyes carefully; there was only so much vulnerability a person could handle some days. There was a struggle, a moment when she knew he wanted to tell her to stop and back off, let him have his way, and then there was the submission, the gorgeous, hot, sexy submission. “Yes,” he said. “Please, Ma’am. Yes.”