Series: The Chicago Defiance MC Series Book 2
Author: K E Osborn
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: July 26
I’m not sure how it happened.
The way the cord of life can splinter and snap without warning.
My family—in hiding from the Japanese Yakuza.
My club—at war with the very organization my family are hiding from.
Though, amidst the chaos, there is one shining light.
A Spanner in the works.
A woman who’s not only the complete opposite of me, and everything I stand for, but a woman who my parents should frown upon.
She’s brash, where I am guarded. We shouldn’t work.
This story isn’t about a dynasty reuniting and mending old wounds—it’s betrayal, deception, conflict and turmoil.
Who will pay the ultimate penance?
Sensei stands up from his seat bringing my attention back to him as he reaches out grabbing my arm. My skin ignites at his touch as his fingers lace around my wrist, and he looks into my eyes. “Come with me.” His voice is low, deep, seductive, and I really want to make a Terminator joke, say something like ‘If you want to live,’ but I don’t because my voice is stuck in my throat from the lustful look in his eyes. It’s making my chest heavy with tension as he pulls me, and I move easily.
“You leaving already?” Scratch calls out sounding like a needy teenager. I almost laugh, but I can’t find it in me as Sensei pulls me with him through the room, his hand tight on my wrist as he says nothing more but leads me toward a hall. I have no idea where we’re going, only that I hope like fuck when we get there, we’re alone.
The tension builds inside of me as we pass some of his brothers. They say nothing, just smirk at us as they watch him lead me down the hall which seems to have doors placed every few feet or so. It’s only when he stops at a door and opens it, I realize what this hall is—the sleeping quarters.
Opening my eyes wide, I don’t have time to think before he yanks me through the door, then slams it shut behind him with his foot and thrusts me up against it. His body pressed against mine as his hands push against my cheeks, holding me in position as his lips crash against mine so forcefully my head smacks against the door. Not painfully, just enough to shock me.
I’m stunned for a moment but soon forget as he’s kissing me again, and it feels so fucking good. His tongue enters my mouth, one of his hands on my face moves into the back of my hair, his fingers lacing through my ponytail. He yanks on it making me gasp into his mouth as his other hand moves to my hip pulling me to him so I can feel every part of him, even the bulge in his pants.
My hands smooth up his back under his shirt and cut against his skin. He’s so warm, his skin silky soft as I dig my nails into his flesh. He groans into my mouth and kisses me harder. I love the way we kiss, it’s so frenzied, so full of passion. His hands move down to my ass and under my thighs as he lifts me up, my legs wrapping around him as he pulls away from the door and walks me over to his bed. Swiftly, he lowers me onto the mattress. He doesn’t shift his weight from on top of me as he slides over me, our lips never detaching as his hard cock presses firmly against my pussy.
I moan into his mouth as he slowly breaks away from me, and I pout up at him as he grins looking into my eyes. He brings his hand up to his mouth and then pulls out my piece of bubblegum. I smirk and giggle as he places it on the bedside table and smiles at me.
“This makes you taste good,” he murmurs and then before I can answer, his lips are back on mine kissing me hard once more. He rocks his hips into me, his hard cock pressing in just the right place. A whimper escapes my mouth as my legs unwrap from around his body, and I use all my strength to spin us over. He moves with me, letting me turn the tide as I roll us over and straddle him on the bed.
He doesn’t completely let me have my way as he sits us up, all the while we kiss frantically. My hands run through his dreadlocks as he moves to my tank top, and his fingers skim the bottom of it then hoist it up. I don’t hesitate to let him take it off me. I know we’ve only known each other for all of two days, but the chemistry between us is scorching, and this itch we have needs to be tended to, then we can get to know each other better.
My top flies off and falls to the floor beside me leaving me in my denim shorts and my bra. His hands glide down my back, the warmth of his calloused fingers feel like heaven as his large hands pull me to him, needing me closer. Sliding my hands from his hair, I move to his cut and slide it over his shoulders. He shrugs out of it then places it carefully on the bedside table. My fingers fumble for the hem of his gray shirt. I yank it up to see his left side covered in tattoos, from his shaved scalp, down his neck, his arm, his torso and the intricate design delves into the waistband of his pants. I’m sure it
goes onto his hip and leg too. I take a second to just marvel at the complex designs, mostly Asian in pattern, but there are some neo-traditional pieces in there too. I also can’t help but notice the cross with wings pendant around his neck. It’s beautiful as he leans in and presses his lips to my collarbone, his teeth grazing along my bone making me clench my eyes shut in delight.
He suddenly shifts, picking me up and sliding off the edge of the bed. I watch his eyes as he carries me over to his desk, and I giggle, holding onto him tightly as he lowers my ass down onto the edge. He moves back from me and then grabs my foot taking off my combat boots, one by one. I smirk as he slides back in and unbuttons my shorts. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as his eyes bore into mine while I squirm on the edge of the desk, the tension building inside of me as he pops them one by one. Note to self, wear shorts with less buttons.
His hooded eyes becoming darker and darker as he takes in the sight before him. He yanks them down, leaving me in my white bra and a pair of aqua boyshorts with a pink trim. He smiles and raises his brow in an approving way.
I’m not a typical girl, I don’t wear sexy panties or thongs, or for that matter matching underwear most of the time, so I’m glad he seems impressed by what he’s seeing.
“You’re so fucking perfect.”
Letting out a chuckle, I run my hand down his flawlessly toned stomach. He has abs on abs on abs and even an amazing V that women go gaga over. I totally get it.
“Pot, kettle, much?”
He grins and raises his brow. “I think you thought I was… how did you word it … pretty?”
I try to hide my laugh and tilt my head. “Me? No! I would never say that.”
He stalks closer and nods, slowly making my stomach flip at the hooded look in his eyes. “Oh, yes, Alya, you called me pretty, and do you remember what I said I would do to you if you called me… pretty?”
My chest tightens as my clit begins to throb. My breath catches in my throat as I clench my thighs together looking up at him. “You would spank me?” My voice comes out as a breathy whisper while color blooms on my neck and moves up to my cheeks.
He takes a deep steadying breath. “Will you run if I did exactly that?”
I shake my head as a slow smile creeps up on my face.
“Stand up and pull down your panties… slowly,” he demands, and a sudden rush of something flows through me—excitement, a thrill of euphoria—I have no idea. I haven’t had a guy be experimental with me for a very long time, and I always enjoy the rush. So I do as he says. His dominant tone only striving to make my panties wetter as I stand from the desk and thread my fingers through the hem of my boyshorts. I look him dead in his eyes while I slide them down my legs. Standing, I kick them to the side as I hook my hands behind my back and take off my bra. His eyes wander over my naked body, in awe as the bulge against his pants is painfully clear. I love the fact I can do that to him.
He takes a step closer, the energy in the room is popping and sizzling as every hair on my body is standing on end. There’s a magnetism, a force in the room—it’s pulling me to him, it’s surging, it’s coursing—and making it damn near almost impossible for me to hold myself together. But somehow, I’m keeping focused as he stands half naked in front of me, his eyes so dark they’re almost black. He’s so fucking good looking it slays me as his eyes drink me in.
“Lay over the end of the desk. Hold on tight,” he instructs.
With a grin, I move to the end of the desk and lay on the edge, so my ass is on display. My chest is over the desk as I hold on waiting for my punishment, my pussy throbbing in delight.
I’m a twisted bitch.
Australian author K E Osborn was born and raised in Adelaide, South Australia. With a background in graphic design and a flair for all things creative, she felt compelled to write the story brewing in her mind.
Writing gives her life purpose. It makes her feel, laugh, cry, and get completely enveloped with the characters and their story lines. She feels completely at home when writing and wouldn’t consider doing anything else.
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