Soul Ties (Club Ties #4) (8 page)

“Don’t hold back that cry, Sweetheart. I want to hear it.”

She released her lip and moaned. He swirled his fingertip around her clit, barely brushing the center where it would be most sensitive. She writhed. Then he moved on, gliding through slick folds, zigzagging back and forth like a bike on a road to ecstasy. She tilted her hips, let her legs fall apart.

Not far enough apart. He clutched her by the inner thighs and opened her wide.

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She lay spread-eagle, open to his hungry gaze. He sat back on his heels to examine her, but everything about the touch of his eyes turned her to molten lava. She’d never had a man look at her this way. They got in and out in a hurry. But Connall…

He ran his fingers down her pussy lips to her soaking entrance. But he didn’t sink his fingers into her as she needed. Instead, he parted her lips to look at her more intimately.

Air kissed her open pussy, and her inner walls clenched. More juices wet her.

“Fuck yeah, Sweetheart. You’re so wet for me. So fucking beautiful. Put your hands here and hold yourself open for me. I want to just look at you.”

Trembling with excitement, she pressed her pussy open for him.

“More.” His gaze was almost black. Whatever kink the doctor was into, it was hot as hell. She’d never been so turned on in her life.

Stretching her pussy, she throbbed for his touch, but he continued to stare at her. The lines cut between his brows made him look stern. His unsmiling mouth set in the granite of his square jaw gave her a new kind of ache—to make him happy.

Without being told to, she eased a finger into her pussy.

He clapped his fingers around her wrist. Sucking in a gasp of surprise, she looked into his eyes. “That’s my job. You don’t touch yourself when you’re with me. Understood?”

“Y-yes.”
Then touch me. I need you.

Still holding her wrist and gaze, he said, “I’m serious. When you’re mine, you don’t get yourself off. Ever. You save that for me.”

With that, he lowered himself between her thighs. Hot breath rushed over her needy skin, but he didn’t kiss or lick her. His eyes were darker than Hades. As black as coal, but gleaming with an inner fire that ignited her too.

“Do you agree to my terms?” His voice was grittier, pitched lower as he ran his nose along her inner thigh, dangerously close to her pussy.

“I do,” she whispered.

Very gently he covered her whole pussy with his mouth. Top to bottom. Her clit beneath his upper lip and his tongue probing her entrance.

With each slow, maddening lap of his tongue, she rocketed higher. He’d barely started and in seconds, she was on the verge of falling off a steep cliff of bliss.

A primal noise rumbled from him, and he sucked her clit hard. She bucked against his face, digging her hands into his hair. The top was longer with trim sides and back, but she had more than enough to hang on to.

He mouthed her softer, torturing her. Using gentle flicks of his tongue on her clit, he sent her spinning out of control. She rocked into his mouth. A vein of fire started deep in her core. She quivered, her nipples bunching and her pussy beginning to pulsate as her orgasm rushed up.

“Connall—”

He growled in answer and sucked her hard. She burst like a Roman candle on the Fourth of July. Waves of pleasure struck, and she fucked his tongue for long, mind-blowing seconds. Her whole body hummed as the moment stretched.

What felt like an eternity later, she started to come down. He mouthed her more gently, and she eased her hold on his hair. She opened her eyes and their gazes locked.

Electricity zipped between them, and she didn’t have time to make sense of her roiling emotions before he plunged two fingers deep into her aching pussy. Her sensitive walls clutched at him, but too soon he dragged his fingers free. Cream coated his long digits, and she watched as he stuck them in his mouth.

Sucking noisily, creases formed around his blazing eyes. “Sweet. So fucking sweet.” He dived between her legs again and thrust his tongue into her pussy, in and out until she hovered in a haze again. So close, right on the edge—

He got to his knees. He was so big, hovering over her. But she knew he’d never hurt her. In his bed she felt totally cherished and protected.

“I want to touch you.” She didn’t wait for permission but sat up, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him down with her. He let her roll atop him, his eyes hooded and his lips still wet with her release.

She skimmed her fingers over his tattooed biceps and around to his pecs. The ridges of his abs were speed bumps worthy of exploring for a whole week. But she didn’t have time. She was still burning for him, and she went right for his belt. The black leather was tooled with
Hell’s Sons
. His buckle bore the logo. For some reason this touched her deeply.

Connall’s commitment, so similar to hers, wrapped her in a warm cocoon. Her throat tightened as she opened his belt and moved to his fly. His cock bulged it, making it difficult to slide down the zipper with ease.

As each tooth vibrated through her soul, she wet her lips.

His ragged groan made her glance up. God, he was beautiful. She wanted to touch, kiss, and lick him all over. When she reached into his boxers and pulled out his thick length, it was impossible to hold his gaze a minute longer. She had to see him—all of him.

A mewl of desire left her, and she dropped a kiss to the plump tip. He answered with a growl and drew her hair aside to watch her. She teased a circle around the head and down the veined underside of his shaft.

“Fuck, Sarah.”

Spurred on by his hot groans, she licked down to his balls.

He gripped her by the upper arms and dragged her up his body. “It’s going to be over before it starts if you keep that up. Now give me your hot fucking mouth.” He didn’t wait for her response—he leaned in and claimed it.

A wild kiss almost bruising in its hunger. She kissed him back with everything inside her. When he flipped her beneath him again, she barely registered he’d moved her. Still kissing her, he twisted to pull off his boots. Then he kicked out his jeans and boxers.

“You’re lucky,” he panted between the assault of kisses.

She raked at his shoulders and turned her lips against his jaw. “Why?”

“Because I bought a new box of condoms after seeing you that first night.”

She went still. Slowly, she turned her head to meet his gaze. “We hardly spoke.”

“I know. But I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

A throaty moan left her as he returned to sucking her nipples, drawing her up the steep incline in five seconds flat. “Get that condom on,” she grated out, and he rumbled a laugh.

He stretched an arm to the nightstand, bringing his eagle tattoo close to her face. On impulse, she traced the lines with her lips. He smelled spicy with a hint of the leather he wore like a second skin.

She had no time to cool off—in seconds he had the condom in place and both her hands trapped above her head.

In one smooth glide, he filled her. She cried out, writhing closer. He pinned her with his kiss and didn’t waste time. He started to move. Jerking into her hard, splitting her with a rhythm that stole her last defenses against Connall West, if she’d ever had any.

He stared into her eyes while he fucked her. He leaned in for long, bone-melting kisses. Then he bit her lip and sent her spinning before starting all over again. The intimacy he forced on her shot her higher yet. A burn spread through her lower belly, and her pussy contracted around his cock. The build-up was bigger than anything she’d known before.

He captured her gaze once again. Looking at the pleasure contorting his rugged features opened a chasm inside her. Suddenly, she was helpless against him, but it didn’t leave her feeling vulnerable.

She hooked her leg around him. Understanding, he let her roll on top. With her long hair floating around them, she pressed her palms against his chiseled chest and began to move.

As he cupped her ass, his fingertip grazed her seam. She sucked in a breath, which only made him do it again.

“You like that, Sweetheart? I’ll fuck you there next.” He pulled her into another scorching, tongue-dueling kiss while resting a finger against her pucker.

The added sensation sent her flying. White-hot flames engulfed her as she came with a cry. She sought his gaze, and he stiffened. Heat flooded her insides as he released into the condom, and her orgasm hit full force.

She threw her head back and screamed. His roar echoed hers. For several minutes she couldn’t think or even move. When she came back to herself, she found she was tangled with Connall and her head pillowed on his broad chest.

She listened to his heart throb and her own racing heart beginning to calm. Connall ran his fingers over her spine, where her full back piece lived—a brilliant orange and red phoenix. She’d gotten it on her eighteenth birthday as a statement that she was just beginning her real journey, rising from her ashes.

But she had to admit, she hadn’t really lived in the past few years. Her father was in prison and her sister gone. The high points of Sarah’s life were spent with Ever or some of the other old ladies. She hadn’t learned anything new, even about herself.

Now she could say she had. She’d learned that sex could comfort and even take away guilt.

At least for a little while.

Connall wound the medical plaster tape around his hands, binding his knuckles and the fine bones on the backs. When he had the tape just right, he pivoted to the utility sink.

“Turn on the water,” he ordered Ace.

As water flowed into the sink, he held his hands beneath the cold spray. The plaster saturated—and began to tighten.

“Pass me those leather gloves.” They were his own gloves, and they’d seen him through countless times like this.

“You’re sure you want to fight? Harris is a big SOB. He might kill you,” Ace said.

Connall gave his brother a wry smile. “You don’t have much confidence in me.”

“Because Harris fights dirty.”

He flexed his hands protected in a hard shell. “The club needs the money, right? I do my part.”

“But if you ruin your hands, you’ve lost your livelihood.”

The club hosted the fights every couple weeks, and cash and bets were tossed back and forth. The Hell’s Sons took a cut of all the winnings, which equaled revenue. Their regular gamblers always came with big money. It was how Sarah had come to be in a warehouse retrieving a duffle of cash.

His heart flexed.
Sarah.
Waking with her in his arms had felt too damn good for his peace of mind. He couldn’t let her get caught up with him. He wasn’t what he seemed on the outside.

“Nah. The plaster will protect my hands.” He tried to flex his fingers, but they were basically immobile. Using the plaster wasn’t exactly unfair in a fight—not when most men wore weighted gloves, the equivalent of a roll of quarters. “I’m doing this, Ace. Now get the door.”

Ace grabbed him by the nape and bumped his forehead against his lightly. “Best of luck, brother. Kick some ass.”

“But you’ve got your bets riding on Harris, right?”

Ace’s laugh followed Connall through the door and into big garage where a boxing ring had been set up. Men crowded in rows several deep. The place reeked of beer and violence. Shouts echoed.

Connall approached the side of the ring. Two brothers danced around each other in the center, both bruised and bloodied. One man’s eye was swelling shut but he grinned through blood-stained teeth.

“Connall!”

His neck prickled at the sound of a female voice. This was no place for women, and the club expressly forbade their old ladies and sweet butts from being here.

Looking up, he saw her. Pale face, wide, haunted eyes, and curves for fucking miles.

He opened his arms as the gorgeous woman barreled into his arms. He caught her against his chest and smelled her fluffy, freshly washed hair. It smelled of comfort—lemon and lavender he’d discovered was her shampoo, and an underlying note of baking. The color was all things earthy—loamy fields, riverbeds, nourishing seeds, branches that sheltered, and the dust itself. He wanted to scoop it up and bring it to his face and never raise his head again.

He brought his stiff hand to her delicate jaw and tipped it to make her look at him. “You’re not allowed here.” His tone was harsher than he intended, but she was a target. Drunk, rowdy men who were used to grabbing a woman and finding her willing. But Sarah wasn’t that type of woman. She’d proven that much with O’Dovey.

Her eyes glistened with worry. “I had to see you. To say good luck.”

For a heartbeat, he stared at her. She hadn’t come to warn him off like Ace had. No, she believed in him.

How often had he been the center of discussion? Why would a doctor belong to a club? Why would he fight with the hands he needs to work?

Sarah didn’t seem to care. She accepted him, and that was one hell of a rush.

Without meaning to, he swooped in and claimed her mouth. Soft lips yielded to his kiss, and all the violence held at bay started to trickle out in passion. With a growl, he closed his teeth over her lower lip and dragged her closer. She hurled her arms around him and angled her head for the deep plunge of his tongue.

As he plundered her sweet mouth, his cock hardened to an impossible length. Fighting Harris with a hard-on wasn’t ideal, but he’d live with it for another fucking taste of Sweetheart Sarah.

He sucked her tongue and she rubbed against his length. He hadn’t meant to have a second night with her, but there was no turning back.

Breaking the kiss, he said, “Get back inside the clubhouse. I’ll come for you.”

Her eyes were glazed and her lips swollen. Redness appeared on her cheeks from the scrape of his beard. His eyelids lowered as he drank in everything about her. Lorraine hadn’t even worn his marks so well.

This was no time for his personal darkness to shadow his life. He had enough shit to deal with.

He put Sarah from him gently. “Go.” Without another glance at her, he waited at the ringside for his fight. Through the ropes, he spotted his opponent glaring at him like a wild animal about to make a kill.