Page 31 of Brick’s Anchor

"Brick!" I scream it. Don't care who hears. Don't care about anything except the way he's making me feel. Used and desired.

Chapter 9 - Brick

She screams my name and I lose whatever fragile control I was holding onto.

This is a disaster. This is absolutely a fucking disaster in the making. I'm balls deep inside a woman we pulled from a Viper warehouse six hours ago. A woman who's traumatized, vulnerable and should be resting, not getting fucked into my mattress while she screams loud enough for the entire clubhouse to hear.

Phoenix is going to kill me.

Judge is going to have opinions.

Saint is going to say "I told you so" about fifty fucking times.

But I can't stop.

Can't stop fucking her because she feels so goddamn right. So wet and perfect around my cock. Every thrust makes her moan, makes her push back against me, makes her body respond in ways that tell me this is exactly what she needs even if it's terrible timing.

She needed this. Needed to feel something good. Needed to take control of her body again after having it under control for a week. Needed to choose this, choose me, choose pleasure instead of pain.

And I needed—

Fuck, I don't even know what I needed. But the moment she put her hand on my cock, the moment she looked at me with those docile eyes and said she was doing what she wanted, something in me snapped. The control I've spent years building, the discipline that keeps me from becoming my brothers, the walls I've constructed to make sure feelings never make me weak, all of it crumbled.

Because Rosie Lane with her brunette hair and blunt bangs makes me want to forget every rule I've ever made for myself.

I fuck her harder. Grip her hair tighter. Pull her back onto my cock with enough force that I know she'll feel this tomorrow. Good. I want her to feel it. Want her to remember this when she's deciding whether to stay or go. Want her marked by me in ways that matter.

My other hand moves from her hip to between her legs. I find her clit and start circling it with my thumb. She gasps, her whole body jerking.

"Brick! I can't… I already—"

"You can," I tell her, voice rough. "You're gonna come again. Gonna come on my cock."

She whimpers. Actually whimpers. The sound goes straight to my balls.

I can feel my orgasm building. That tightening in my spine, the heat pooling low in my belly, the way my balls draw up. I'm close. So fucking close. But I need her to come first. Need to feel her pussy clench around me one more time before I lose it completely.

I thrust harder, faster, working her clit in time with each stroke. She's making sounds I've never heard before—half moans, half sobs, completely desperate. Her fingers claw at the sheets. Her back arches. Her whole body tenses.

"That's it," I grunt. "Come for me, Rosie. Let me feel it."

She detonates.

Her pussy clamps down on my cock so hard I nearly black out. She's screaming my name again, trembling, completely coming apart. I fuck her through it, drawing it out, making it last as long as possible.

But I can't hold back anymore.

"Where do you want it?" I force the words out. Last thread of control. Last attempt at doing the right thing. "Where do you want me to come?"

"Inside," she gasps without hesitation. "Come inside me."

All hell breaks loose.

I bury myself as deep as I can and let go completely. I come so hard I nearly blackout. Filling her. Marking her. Making her mine in the most primal way possible.

I roar through it, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. My cock pulses inside her, pumping her full. She takes all of it. Takes everything I give her and moans like she loves it.

When I finally stop coming, I'm shaking. Actually shaking. My muscles are trembling from the force of it, from the intensity, from whatever the fuck just happened between us.