The Billionaire Biker Page 8

  It hurt and yet … It felt good at the same time. This wasn’t pain like the miscarriage, that dragging, tearing ache in her gut and agony in her heart. Neither was it like the hurt her father had doled out, pain with an added layer of humiliation and betrayal.

  The sting held no emotional associations. It was sharp, clean. Pure.

  A sign of strength, of defiance.

  She shoved her hips back, wanting more, something raw breaking loose inside her. There was wetness on her cheeks, the pain biting deep.

  “Enough, Abby?” Sean demanded.

  “N-no,” she said raggedly, trembling. “More.”

  Another couple of blows, adding to the burn. Then they ceased, a hand caressing her burning flesh, slipping between her thighs, brushing her clit, circling. A light, teasing touch that didn’t take the pain away but added something else—pleasure.

  Abby gasped, shaking as the sensations twined around each other in an irresistible, impossible combination. “I thought … you were supposed to give me … more.”

  “You might be able to handle it, but I can’t.” Sean’s warmth engulfed her, his body up against hers. “Jesus, you’re so fucking amazing.” Strong arms held her close but she didn’t want to be held. There was something wild inside her trying to break free and she wanted to release it. She tried to turn in his arms but he held her tightly, pushing her head down onto the couch cushions. “You had the pain,” he murmured in her ear. “It’s time for the pleasure.”

  Then his hand slipped between her thighs again, a finger sliding inside her, and pleasure exploded through her in a bright burst. She cried out, bucking against him, the hard heat of his body a wall that she could shove against and yet wouldn’t yield. So she pushed back again, yet he didn’t move, another finger sliding deep inside her, the pleasure savage.

  It was too much. Pleasure and pain and heat. She cried out against the cushions, feeling his grip on her change, his breathing loud in her ear as he fumbled for something behind her. She tried to turn, but his forearm rested across the back of her neck, holding her down. “Don’t move,” he said fiercely. “If you want your pleasure, you’ll have to keep still.”

  Her skin burned already, the tension inside her drawn so tight she thought she would scream. But she did as she was told, shivering. Because she needed this. Wanted it. She hadn’t known this was what she needed but it was. The pain had ripped something free and now the pleasure would allow the release of whatever was behind it.

  One of Sean’s hands gripped her hips, while the other slid between her thighs, parting her. Then came the pressure of his cock sliding inside her, thick and hard, stretching her open. She shuddered, panting. He wasn’t gentle, shoving himself deep before pulling back then sliding in again. A desperate, relentless rhythm.

  Stars fell behind her eyes, a white burst of brilliance. She sobbed with the pleasure of it, with the pain against her raw skin.

  “I’m sorry, Abby,” he whispered in a ragged voice in her ear. “I’m so sorry.”

  And she knew what he was apologizing for. Not for the belt. Not for making her obey. Not for giving her pain. But for leaving. For the whole sorry mess he’d left for her to deal with.

  “Bastard,” she sobbed as the pleasure scraped her raw, her vision blurred, her cheeks wet with tears, the words spilling from the painful place inside her, the one she tried to pretend wasn’t there. “How could you do that? How could you leave me alone?”

  He didn’t answer, holding her close. Moving inside her. Giving her pleasure in place of another apology she would never have accepted in any case.

  Eventually the words weren’t enough so she didn’t say anything either, pressing her face against the couch. But as the pleasure began to overwhelm her, one powerful arm slid up the front of her body, pulling her back against him, urging her head back against his shoulder. And he gripped her, holding her tightly as the climax hit, his fingers curling around her throat in a gentle possessive hold, his breath warm against her neck.

  She screamed, going taut in his arms.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, low and rough. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

  * * *

  Sean couldn’t move, his head ringing from the orgasm that had left him barely conscious.

  He hadn’t wanted to hurt her—not when he’d already dished out so much pain—but he was the one who’d set up the rules and she’d called him on it. He had to follow through. So that’s what he’d done, like he’d done all through the years with the club. Backed up the rules with punishment.

  The sound of his belt striking her pale flesh echoed in his brain, heaping another layer onto his guilt. She’d gasped when he’d struck her, shivering and shaking. Sobbing. That polished front of hers completely gone. And yet she hadn’t said “enough,” like she would have just lain there all night and taken it.

  She was so strong and a part of him had reveled in her strength. Dealing out punishment had always been satisfying to him on a level he never wanted to examine too closely, yet dealing it out to her, watching how she’d taken it from him, had been the biggest fucking turn-on ever. That she’d come apart in his arms, that he’d made her feel something, was an even bigger turn-on. But another part of him didn’t like that she’d felt she had to prove something to him. And had used pain to prove it.

  Abby didn’t move, fallen back against him, the silky brush of her hair along his jaw. He kept on holding her, sliding his hands up her stomach, cupping her breasts in his palms, then stroking down her sides, soothing her. She was trembling, her breathing coming in short, hard gasps.

  How could you leave me alone?

  Finally the truth, the pain in her voice like a knife. It hurt. Everything hurt. But shit, he goddamn deserved it, didn’t he?

  He undid the tie around her wrists then curled his arms around her, holding her tightly. “Are you okay?” he asked thickly, having to force the words out because his throat kept closing down on them. “Did I hurt you too bad? Talk to me, Abby.”

  A long moment passed when she didn’t say anything at all. Then she pulled his arms away from her and twisted in his lap to face him. Tears streaked her cheeks, makeup running, her hair tangled and mussed, molten fury in her eyes.

  He knew what was coming immediately and didn’t avoid the blow. Her hand cracked across his cheek, and fuck, she had power behind that arm. His head rang for the second time that night, his vision blurring, jaw aching.

  “You bastard,” she said in a shaky voice. “You complete and utter bastard. Why didn’t you ever contact me? Why did I get nothing from you for five freaking years? I tried to find you but you’d gone. I thought … I thought you’d come back eventually. I thought you’d call me or something. But you never did. And I wondered what I’d done.”

  His chest was tight and sore. He had to speak, had to say something because he couldn’t stay silent now. She deserved answers. “Why did you get nothing from me? Because I had nothing to give you, Abby. I know what you wanted that night but I couldn’t give it to you. I was too angry. Too fucked up. I wasn’t the man you needed. The man you deserved.” He let his arms fall away from her, giving her some space. “I thought you were better off without me.”

  The lighting in the room was dim but didn’t hide the glisten of her tears. “Five years, Sean? You thought I was better off without you so you didn’t speak to me for five years?”

  His lungs felt full of barbed wire and it hurt to breathe. “I meant to but … after a month or so had passed, I couldn’t do it. And then the longer I left it, the harder it was. In the end I thought it was easier on us both to let you go.”

  “Easier for you.”

  “Yeah,” he acknowledged. “I guess it was.”

  “It hurt, Sean. The fact that you left without even a word. And when I needed you … ” She stopped, her voice choking.

  But she didn’t need to finish. He knew. When she’d needed him, he wasn’t there.

  “Tell me,” he forced himsel
f to say. “Tell me what happened, Abby. With the baby … with Jax. And not just the facts this time.”

  “Why should I? Why should you get to hear it?”

  There wasn’t any reason, because he sure as shit didn’t deserve any explanation. So all he said was, “Please.”

  She turned away from him. “Dad made me feel like shit when I told him about the baby. You know, the usual stuff. How I was a disappointment, a failure. That he never wanted to see me again. Mom just agreed with him the way she always does. I couldn’t wait to get out, to be honest, but I had no money. I had nowhere to go. In the end I couldn’t get hold of you so I asked Jax if he knew where you were. He wanted to know why, so I told him.”

  Sean lifted a hand, wiped away a tear that was slowly sliding down her cheek with his thumb, his throat thick with all the emotions sitting heavily in it.

  She let him touch her but didn’t look at him. “When he found out about the baby, he helped me. He told me he felt responsible and I … well, I let him help because I didn’t have anyone else. He got me the job at Morrow so I could support myself and it was … okay. Then I had a miscarriage. I was at home alone at the time and started getting intense cramps and bleeding.” She shifted in his lap, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’ve never been so scared.”

  His heart dropped away, leaving a gaping, painful hole in his chest. She’d been alone and scared and in pain. And he hadn’t been there.

  “It was probably for the best in a way but … I wanted that baby, Sean. It was all I had of you, and when I lost it … I felt like everything Dad had ever said about me was true. I couldn’t keep you, I couldn’t keep my baby. I was useless. A failure.” She stopped. “Look … that’s the truth, okay? And now all I want is to put it behind me. I want to move on because it’s too painful otherwise.”

  There weren’t any more apologies he could make. The past was a fact he couldn’t change, and the consequences even worse than he’d imagined. Which meant he had to do more than just stay here to help her with her job. He had to fix this for her somehow.

  “What can I do?” he asked hoarsely. “Anything you want, I’ll do it.”

  “I need to finish this job. Do what I said I’d do for Jax. Clean up your image in time for the ground-breaking ceremony. Once I’ve done that, it’ll feel like I’ve paid back what I owe him for the way he stepped in and helped me.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll do whatever you tell me.”

  She was silent a moment, staring at him. Then she nodded. “Good.”

  “What else?”

  Another aeon passed. “We don’t have to talk about this again. Consider the air cleared. The past is done. We don’t need to go over it again.”

  “Sure.”

  Slowly she leaned back against him and put her palms on his thighs. He stilled, the warmth of her touch taking the breath from his body. Jesus, he was getting hard again.

  “And this,” Abby said softly. “I want this.”

  Chapter 7

  Abby rolled over and flung a hand over her face as sunlight poured over it. Then she groaned. Sunlight meant daytime. Which must mean it was morning. She moved her arm and glanced at the clock beside the bed. It was only seven a.m. Not quite so bad then.

  She turned over, looking at the empty pillow beside her. No Sean. Interesting. Had he gotten up for his usual predawn bike ride? Or gone down to the hotel gym?

  The past few days they’d been sleeping together, he’d not been in bed when she woke up. At first she’d been concerned about it, but he’d told her he was a morning person, and liked to get up and clear his head with a few things before the day started. Those things appeared to be riding his Harley and working out.

  She sighed, flopping back on the bed, then reaching for her phone, scrolling through the day’s tasks before checking her e-mails. Lots of things to complete before she finished up at Morrow. A meeting with Victoria de Winter to prepare for. Media stuff regarding Sean to handle.

  The New York gossip machine was full of the “prodigal son’s” return and—rather to her own surprise, not to mention that of Jax and Donovan—Sean’s abrupt departure from his own party had only added to the mystique currently surrounding him. Already precious column inches had been dedicated to his “silent broodiness” and speculation about his past as a member of the Avenging Angels motorcycle club. Yes, there had been more than a few other stories referencing the Morrows’ infamous past and mutterings about “blood will win out,” but certainly his return hadn’t had a detrimental impact on the business as a whole.

  Abby sighed as she read the latest news story Donovan had sent her. Somehow Sean had become one of New York’s “hottest bad-boy bachelors,” the accompanying photo of him astride his bike looking tough and unbelievably sexy. God, he was so going to hate that.

  “Morning, sweetheart.”

  She looked up, her heart tightening as Sean came into the room. He was dressed in a pair of suit trousers—dark gray with a subtle pinstripe—and a white business shirt, his hair neat. In fact, everything about him was neat and perfectly pressed.

  Abby put down her phone, watching him as he strode to the wardrobe and pulled it open, grabbing a couple of ties from the tie rack.

  “Wow, you look good. Where are you off to so early?”

  “That meeting Jax wanted me to sit in on.” He turned and held out the ties. “Which one?”

  She couldn’t help smiling. Bad-boy Sean Morrow wanting tie advice. “I think the silver one. Come here and let me put it on.” He’d at least learned to tie them himself, but she knew he preferred her to do it for him.

  Tossing the other tie carelessly onto the nearby dresser, Sean came over to the side of the bed and sat down next to her, giving her the length of silver silk. He was all stiff, his jaw tense, the look in his eyes flat.

  “What’s up?” she asked. “You look … nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous.”

  “Sure you’re not.” Abby leaned forward and put the tie around his neck, tucking the collar of his shirt over it. As she did so, the sheet around her slipped a little, nearly baring her breasts. On cue, Sean’s gaze dipped to follow the sheet’s progress down.

  “Yeah, okay, so I am,” he said, a rough edge to his voice.

  She grinned, not bothering to pull the sheet up. “Why? What’s there to be nervous about?”

  “It’s a negotiating meeting. I don’t know why he wants me sitting in on it when I don’t know the first fucking thing about negotiating.”

  “You are such a liar.” She began to knot his tie, loving the warmth of him next to her, the way his arms were braced on the bed on either side of her, his powerful body motionless, waiting for her to finish. The way he wasn’t when they were making love, preferring to take control whenever they were in bed.

  She didn’t mind. She liked him being in charge because it gave her the freedom to lie back and enjoy the pleasure. Which was intense. He liked it rough and so did she, especially with a bit of pain. Every time they had sex it was like she was releasing more of the hurt that had built up over the years. More of the anger. And afterward they’d talk. Filling in for each other the gaps in their lives up until now.

  It felt like the past had been well and truly put to bed. It felt like at last, after so long, she was truly moving forward.

  “I’m not lying,” Sean muttered.

  “Well, your club must have done some negotiating. Like, I don’t know, with businesses and other clubs. And you must have had some hand in it, right?”

  “Yeah,” he said reluctantly.

  “So you not knowing isn’t quite true, is it?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I guess not.”

  Abby began to loop the tie. “You have more to offer than you think, Sean. You see things clearly and I think you have a very good understanding of group dynamics and how to handle people.”

  He frowned. “What makes you think that?”

  “The way you handled me.” She flicked a glance up a
t him. “You knew what I needed before I did myself.”

  “But I already knew you, Abby.”

  “I’m not quite the same as the person you knew five years ago, though. You’re perceptive, Sean. You see through people’s crap. And that’s a valuable skill in the boardroom.”

  He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the weight of his gaze as she concentrated on the tie. “Thanks. But you don’t have to make me feel better about myself.”

  “Too bad. I want to.” The pulse at the base of his throat had gotten faster and she knew why that was. Shifting, she let the sheet drift down a bit more. “You did it for me when Dad was being awful. So now it’s my turn. And besides, you deserve something good, Sean.”

  “Do I? Do I really?”

  She met his gaze, her hands pausing. “Of course you do.”

  “After what I did to you, I think I deserve sweet fuck all.”

  Abby dropped the tie and put a finger over his mouth. “Don’t. We talked about that. It’s over with. In the past. We’re moving on.”

  His eyes glittered. Lifting a hand, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her finger away from his mouth. “I can’t help it. That’s the way I feel.”

  “Are you wanting me to forgive you? Is that what you want?”

  The air between them became thick with tension.

  “No,” he said flatly. “I never expected forgiveness.”

  Of course he wouldn’t. He’d probably blame himself till the day he died.

  Abby’s throat closed. “What if I did forgive you? Would that make things better?”

  “I don’t want you to forgive me, Abby. But I’m trying to make it up to you now.” Gently he released her wrist. “I’d better go. I don’t want to be late for Jax.”

  Yeah, he was trying to make it up to her. Doing his best with the appearances and publicity she’d organized over the past couple of days. He still didn’t say much out in public but he looked the part these days in his designer wardrobe, and he’d begun to act more at ease at a couple of the social occasions they’d attended since.