Chapter Fifteen

KATRINA PACED THE ROOM, going back and forth in worry. She couldn't sit still. Despite Jagger not telling her what was going on, she knew.

The bikers could vote him out of the club, all because he loved her, and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

They would respect him less if she voiced her support. No man wanted a woman to fight for him in front of his brothers.

It seemed stupid to her that she couldn't defend Jagger. But it was life for him.

She wasn't his ol' lady. There was nothing she could do.

Guilt ate away at her. Ruger was her father. She felt responsible.

Being intimate with Jagger came with consequences. When she was young, he'd warn her about the others not understanding their relationship, and she had to stop hugging, kissing, and touching him.

All she'd wanted to do was show him how much he meant to her. Looking back, she now understood that her upbringing was different than other people's. She was raised without boundaries. She knew right from wrong, but in the biker lifestyle, lines blurred. She often witnessed adults do things she knew people at school would view as wrong. Bikers messed around with bitches in front of her. She got a different kind of education. Affection was never kept from her. It was a part of life.

So, being told that she couldn't kiss, touch, or feel good seemed unfair.

It wasn't until she overheard a conversation between two Havlin members saying the bitches coming around were eighteen and legal that everything started to make sense. There was a time frame that made her more attractive to men—specifically, Jagger.

God, it seemed to take forever until she was eighteen years old.

He broke her heart the day she became legal by turning her away. But she hadn't given up. Maybe if she had walked away and forgotten about Jagger, he wouldn't be fighting for his life within the club now.

The door opened. She whirled around, holding her breath. At the sight of Jagger, her gaze went to his chest, covered by his vest. The president's patch remained over his heart. She met his gaze, silently begging him to tell her everything was okay. That he would be okay. That they would be okay.

He stepped inside and shut the door. He removed his pistol and set it on the dresser without saying anything. She watched his every move.

He never looked away from her as he removed his vest, folded the leather in half, and set it beside his gun. When he bent over and unlaced his boots, anticipation curled inside her, and she kicked off her sneakers.

He toed his boots off while he worked on his belt. She removed her shirt and easily unhooked her bra, sending it to the floor.

When he stepped out of his jeans, she inhaled deeply, shuddering. Having him return to her as the president of Havlin opened the flood gates of emotions. His club supported him.

Naked, she rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck. Her legs around his waist.

Kissing him deeply, she clung to him as he carried her to the bed. She landed on top of him.

He slipped his fingers into the crack of her butt, trailed his hand down, and hooked the back of her upper thigh, pulling her fully on top of him.

Her body trapped his hardness between them. She raised her mouth off him and gazed into his dark eyes.

She belonged to him no matter what her dad or the Havlin members said.

He was her man, even when they had to hide their relationship.

Jagger brought her head down and captured her lips. The roughness of his beard curled her toes. She widened her knees until she straddled him.

The tip of his cock danced at the opening of her pussy, seeking the entrance. She moved until the pressure of his size slid between her lower lips.

His hands squeezed her ass, and he raised his pelvis. She pressed down, taking him inch by inch.

She captured his mouth, teasing him with her tongue. His breathing deepened, fanning her face.

"Jagger." She sucked in air.

He pulled her back down, thrusting his tongue between her lips, sliding over her tongue.

Her breasts, pressed against his chest, ached in pleasure. She fumbled with where to touch him, wanting to have her hands all over, but held on to his sides. Afraid if she let go, he'd disappear.

Jagger lifted her and brought her down on him, moving his cock through her wetness. Her mouth came off him. She sat, straddling his hips and taking his whole length.

His eyelids remained at half-mast while he looked at her. She panted, wanting to have him buried inside of her so nobody and nothing could take him from her.

It'd taken him years to bring their relationship out into the open, only to be punished for loving her. It wasn't fair.

He palmed her thighs, rubbing her legs. "Don't think."

"I'm scared." She inhaled a trembling breath. "I can't lose you."

"You'll never lose me."

"You don't know that."

The thought of her dad killing Jagger overwhelmed her. She stopped moving on top of him.

"What do we do?" She swallowed.

He flinched, his gaze narrowing. "Trust me."

He lifted her off him. She rolled into a ball, dazed at the loss of him. She wasn't prepared to handle everything that was happening.

Jagger got up on his knees. Then, he guided her onto her hands and knees in front of him. He pressed his hand onto her upper back, pushing her upper body down. She went clear to the bed, putting her head on the blanket with her ass in the air.

He thrust into her pussy from behind. She moaned, taken by surprise. Before she gained her next breath, he pounded into her.

Her heart beat wildly, echoing in her ears. The force of how he took her was a reminder of how much he wanted her. The urgency at which he loved her showed how much he worried that his time was short.

She knew him too well. They never needed to talk. She knew. He couldn't hide his feelings from her.

"Jagger?" She couldn't breathe

Sexual pleasure mixed with panic. She had no control and was slipping.

"I've always loved you." He plunged so hard her knees came off the bed. "I will always love you."

"I-I-I love you." She panted.

Held hostage, her breasts flattened against the mattress. She fisted the blanket, unable to move.

He turned her into a desperate lover. She bit her lower lip, expecting each thrust. Waiting for each thrust. Begging for each thrust.

Her body sang for him. Her desire for Jagger was out in the open for his view, his touch. It'd been that way for most of her life.

She belonged to him.

"I'll do whatever I can to never leave you," he muttered, shifting behind her. "Can't leave you."

He slid his hand between her legs and found her clit. With his cock inside of her, stroking her soul, he rubbed the sensitive nub. She arched her back in response.

Instead of pumping into her, he held himself still. All his attention went to his fingers. Those calloused, rough fingers knew exactly how to bring her pleasure.

Her insides curled tighter, and her wetness coated his movements. She moved against his hand, back and forth.

Whimpering, she clung to the bed, unable to stop spiraling. She danced under his touch, making her love him more.

Taking his cock out of her, he slid the hardness against her butt and over her slit while his fingers circled her clitoris. She rocked on the bed.

Her sex pulsated, needing him. Wanting him. Dying for him.

Her core clenched, straining. "Jagger."

His hand left her. His cock left her. At the cusp of an orgasm, she moaned in protest, wanting him back inside her.

The guttural sound cut off instantly as he slammed his cock inside of her. Her toes dug into the bed. He pounded her. The slap of their skin filled the room.

In his control, he orchestrated her pleasure. Her pussy greedily sucked him in with each thrust. Her climax exploded, ripping a scream out of her lungs.

Her orgasm kept going, stealing all her strength until he thrust one final time, deep inside her, and pressed her flat to the mattress.

Trapped under his weight, she violently shuddered.

Fear of losing him returned swiftly. She grabbed his hands.

His lips settled on her ear. "I will do whatever I can to stay here and love you until I'm old, Kat. Whatever happens, know I never gave up fighting for us."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, unable to breathe. "If I hadn't loved you—"

"Don't." He growled. "Don't ever be sorry. You're the most beautiful thing I've had in my life."

Her body stiffened underneath him. "I don't know what to do."

"Love me. No matter what happens," he whispered, linking his hands with hers. "You'd make a damn good ol' lady, Kat."

She nodded, afraid to speak. He deserved all her support, even when she was falling apart.