Poison: Devil's Rose MC #4

Chapter 22: Dakota Knight

Alpha is surprisingly quick to agree on our vacation, even extending it to one week instead of the three days that Antonio and I initially planned. Of course, we didn't say no to that offer. For both of us, there was a small trade-off though. We both had to work over the weekend, and we couldn't leave until Monday. 

Antonio wanted to put up a fight about that, but I stopped him, not thinking the argument was worth having. I can spare a weekend to have a full seven days off. The weekend, because of the busyness, went by quicker than expected. 

I got a few complaints from my man during late at night calls, but nothing I couldn't handle.

And now, we are meeting up at his house for the start of our trip. Remembering what my car is like, he instantly volunteered his own all-wheel-drive Subaru Ascent and his driving skills too. 

He's scared of my driving, I know it. That's okay though, I'm scared of my driving too. I can drive, I promise I can, but I also don't like it, so I tend to not focus all that well. 

But I would have taken a driving shift if he wanted me to, but he was firmly against that for multiple reasons, some of which he didn't name to me for whatever reason. 

Last night, after hanging up the phone at the end of our amusing two-hour-long conversation about absolutely nothing, he texted me his address. 

I know I've passed by his house at least once, but as I pull into his driveway, the size is astounding. No one needs to live in a house that large.

I put my car in park, turning off the engine, my mouth dropped open at the sight of his entranceway. Holy fucking shit. There Antonio stands, shirtless on his porch, his stomach tense and showing off his abdominal muscles, his arms spread almost as wide as his smile when he sees me. 

I clamber clumsily out of my car, barely able to keep my eyes on the sexiest man I've ever seen in my entire life. I mean, yeah, most of the MC guys are handsome as all fucks but none of them smile like that when they see me. There's nothing hotter than that.

I didn't feel the need to lock my car door behind me while I briskly moved toward Antonio, wanting to wrap myself up in his arms. He meets me in the middle and sweeps me into a warm and tight hug. Oh my goodness, I needed that. 

I've barely seen him the past couple of days because of me being worked to the bone (him too) and being way too tired to meet up somewhere with him. It wasn't like he was able to come to the apartment either with Alpha not letting him rest a ton. 

Yes, the President of the Devil's Rose MC can be harsh, but as far as I can tell, he has the best of intentions. He wants to keep the people he loves and cares about safe along with the rest of the community he has dedicated part of his life to protecting. 

He needs Antonio for that.

So I can't deny that on the one hand, I am kind of pissed that he worked my favorite man on this planet to pure exhaustion - hearing him on the phone last night, his voice full of heaviness, was heart-wrenching - I also understand that he's doing it to benefit more than himself. 

If it happens again though, I might have to work up the courage to tell him to stop working my man to the bone. Maybe, as I said, if I work up the courage. I highly doubt I will, but it's the thought that counts, right? Plus, we are now getting a week off, so that's pretty great.

Antonio breaks away from the hug, not saying a word before laying a languorous yet passionate kiss upon my lips. Our mouths move in perfect sync and our hands hold each other delicately. 

One of his hands' clutches onto my waist, tugging me closer to him, his firm body pushed to mine. He doesn't know what he's doing to me or the way heat pools between my thighs when he does shit like that. Or maybe he does and he's doing it on purpose. 

In retaliation for the teasing, I glide my left hand down the side of his body before caressing the smooth skin of his stomach. He groans into my mouth and my knees give out at the sound.

He chuckles but catches me just the same. Usually, I would be a little worried about making out with him in front of a house, but knowing that no one is around, I don't feel nervous about our heated session being displayed to the public. 

I'm not a fan of public displays of affection. Unfortunately, the kiss doesn't last much longer due to a lack of air. Our chests heave as we swallow much-needed air, but his hands and eyes don't leave my body.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"Good morning, Antonio."

"Fuck, I love when you say my name."

"Well then, Antonio, shall we get this show on the road."

His thumb caresses my cheek, his teeth briefly catching his lower lip.

"Have you eaten?"

"A banana and protein bar."

"That's not enough."

"I brought snacks."

"Dakota, please. Let me feed you."

Is it worth arguing with him about? No, probably not. So I don't.

"Alright, I'll follow you."

That smile is irreplaceable. He kisses my cheek in gratitude before laying a hand on my lower back and leading me into his impressive home. He allows me to roam his private space as he cooks me breakfast. By the smell coming from the kitchen, I think he's making vegan waffles, but I could be wrong. 

I travel through his high-ceiling living room, down hallways, into his giant office space (is it wrong that I instantly thought of being fucked on that desk?), past guest bedrooms, bathrooms, and suddenly come upon his bedroom. 

It's more personal than any of the other rooms, his scent drifting around the space, retro-designed Marvel posters hung on the wall. I hesitate to walk in at first, not wanting to impede too much of his space, but my curiosity overtakes my politeness. I should work on that. I'll get myself in trouble one of these days.

I step into the room, glancing around at the homey space, only to realize that he's a lot more of a minimalist than I thought him out to be. I mean, throughout the rest of his home, it's pretty minimalist, but that's because most people see that area of the house. 

Hopefully, not many people - women - are seeing his bedroom. I don't mean it like I'm trying to tell him what he can do with his body. He can have sex with whoever he chooses and there's a consenting thing happening. I'm not saying that he can't. 

I think it's the fact that I'm fucking jealous of the women that have been able to be in his bedroom. I want to be the woman in his bedroom.

At the private revelation, heat rises to my cheeks, butterflies fluttering violently in my stomach, my chest squeezing, a pulsating fire returning to my vagina. In what ways would he indulge? Where would he bend me over? Would he fuck me against the wall? Would his thrusts be hard and rough, soft and sensual, or both? 

What positions are his favorite? How would his cock feel as he shoves it inside of me? What secret fantasies and kinks would he use me to dive into? What kind of words or noses would he make in my ears? How desperate would he make me? How would his muscles clench and tense as he moves, as he cums?

Oh goodness, gracious, Dakota. Get control of yourself. You should not be standing in Antonio's bedroom thinking about the many ways he would take you. It's highly inappropriate. I don't care too much though. I indeed want to find out the answers to all those questions.

Maybe I will. One day.

I can't be thinking about it now, not when I have to be in a car with him for the next seven hours.