Taming Blade (Kings Reapers MC Book 5), Nicola Jane [books for 7th graders TXT] 📗

her in by placing my arms either side of her and gripping onto the metal railing. I bury my face into her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, and I feel her relax into me slightly. “It wasn’t a trust issue. I just thought maybe if you’d gotten pregnant by Ethan, you were scared to tell me in case it ended us.”

“I didn’t have sex with Ethan,” she maintains.

“It wouldn’t have ended us,” I continue. “I would have stepped up and raised that baby like my own, cos you are my queen and I’d do whatever it takes to keep you.”

“Even send me packing to Scotland?” she asks.

“I want to keep you safe. For the first time in a long time, I’m scared. If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I’m not in any danger,” she whispers. “You’ll keep me safe.”

I press gentle kisses along her jawline and she closes her eyes. “I’ll definitely try,” I agree. I lift her short skirt and glance at the black lace panties. “Are these expensive?” I ask. Not waiting for an answer, I tug on the lace and they snap away from her easily. I smirk and stuff them in my pocket. “Too late.”

“There’re people down there,” she says, trying to back away from the balcony.

“They’re too busy going about their business to notice us,” I say, running my hand over her arse. I unbuckle my belt, pushing my jeans down my thighs, and free my erection.

“Blade, I don’t think—” she begins, gasping as I push my cock into her. She braces herself against the railings and hangs her head, catching her breath.

“See, no one’s looking.” I move her hair away from her neck and nip lightly at the skin there. I pull her closer to me so she’s bending over, gripping the railings, and then I gently kick her legs further apart. “Hold on, Sunshine, it’s gonna be fast and hard,” I warn her. I grip her hips and slam into her. She cries out and I give her a second to recover before repeating the move again. “It’d be selfish of me to keep you in London when I know you’d be safer here.”

“I’m not being here without you,” she whispers.

“You’re staying in Scotland,” I say firmly. It’s not a decision I’ve made lightly, but it’s one for the best. “I’ve already set the wheels in motion.”

I feel her body begin to shake as her pussy grips my cock tight. I wait for her orgasm to subside before I pull out and finish myself off, coming over her ass. I grab a towel off the nearby chair and wipe her clean before lowering her dress. “What does that mean?” she asks.

“I called your nan. She’s happy to move here if it’s where you want to be.”

“But I don’t want to be here. I want to stay in London.”

“That’s not up for discussion anymore,” I mutter, heading back inside to the bedroom as she follows me.

“It’s not your decision. You think that because I’m weak for you, because I give in to sex, you’re suddenly the boss of me?”

“You want to stay alive?” I yell suddenly, and her step falters. “Then you’ll stay here!”

“What about us?” she asks.

“I’ll call every night and come up to visit when I can,” I say quietly, knowing already how difficult it’ll be. Club commitments will make it damn near impossible to travel up to Scotland more than a couple times a year. It only makes me more determined to settle this shit back in London so I can have her by my side.

“You can’t make me stay here. I love living in London. We’re just getting to know each other and you haven’t even told me anything about your life. There’s still so much to learn about each other.” She’s clutching at straws, and I feel my anger building.

“There’s nothing to know about me.”

“I want to know it all,” she cries. “I want to know about your mum and your childhood and what you looked like as a kid.” She smiles even though her eyes are watering.

“I told you, there’s fuck all to tell,” I snap. “I was a scrawny kid, all skin and bones. I hated school because I didn’t fit in. My mum was an evil, sadistic bitch,” I yell, pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it onto the floor. I kick off my boots. “Not everyone had a great childhood, Matilda. We don’t all want to share stories.”

“I didn’t mean . . .” she tries to explain.

“The last time I saw my mum, she told me she wished I was dead. She thought I made her shitty life worse, and the only time she ever touched me was to cause me pain. She’d slap me, kick me, bite me, even scratch me. She hated me.” I continue, pushing my jeans off, “So, where should I start? Which sick story would you like to hear first?” I growl. Tillie stands on the opposite side of the room, staring at me with tears running down her cheeks. She’s heard enough, but I can’t stop the ugly words flowing from my mouth. “Maybe the one where I was sleeping and she stubbed out her cigarette on me,” I snap, pointing to a faint scar on my chest. “Or when she dug her long, dirty nails into my neck, the wound got infected,” I add, pointing to the scars there.

“Stop,” mumbles Tillie.

“I’m just getting started.” I smirk. “Get into bed and I’ll tell you everything. A creepy bedtime story.” I throw back the covers, but Tillie remains by the door, crying quietly. “This is what you want, right? To find out all my deepest, darkest secrets? Your mum made me feel like that weak kid all over again, today.” She shakes her head and swipes at her tear-stained face. “Oh right, these stories are too much for your fairy tale head,” I snap. “They don’t make good happy