Lock (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #5) Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
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“Yes, Lock, I did. It’s fine. I promise. Doesn’t even hurt right now.” Tilting her head, she smiled at him. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell again. He breathed the slow, controlled way his therapist taught him in rehab. It helped to control him when he felt out of control. When anxiety spiked, his heart rate rose, or he needed to keep from doing something stupid.

Something incredibly stupid like touching the woman who made him so hard he could knock down the wall next to him with his dick.

“Well, I should—” She gestured toward her room. The movement stretched her tank top across her tits. Her goddamn nipples were hard.

Fuck it.

“Turn around,” he ordered in a sharp voice.

“What?” Her question was a breathy whisper, and her eyes were wide as saucers with blown pupils.

“Turn. Around.”

Her throat moved as she swallowed, but then she did as he asked, giving him her back in a slow, tantalizing turn.

He walked forward with the same unhurried pace until his front met her back. His dick nestled between them.

Brenna gasped.

“Lift your arm like you did in the clubhouse. Put it around me.”

She was breathing so fast he could feel her back moving against his chest, but again, she obeyed. Her arm came up and around the back of his neck. For a second, he had a flash of that movie his sister made him watch countless times when they were teens—Dirty Dancing.

If he had his way, things were about to get beyond dirty.

He wound his hand around her waist and slipped it under her shirt, pressing his palm flat against her stomach as he’d done in the clubhouse. They were now in the same position, except his hard cock was nestled a bit higher against her back since she no longer wore the heels.

She trembled as he inched his fingertips down into the band of her sleep shorts and came to rest right above her pubic bone.

“For the record,” he said in a deep rumble against her ear. “You had and have my consent to do whatever the fuck you want to me. Anytime you want.”

“Oh God,” she whispered as her eyes fell shut.

“The only question left is whether or not I have your consent?”

Eyes squeezed tight, she nodded in a rapid clip.

“Say the words, Brenna.” It took everything he had not to press her against the wall and grind his cock all over her ass. Having patience killed him, but it’d be so worth it in the end.

“Yes.”

He grinned. God, he liked her like this, all breathy and needy. “Yes, what, baby?”

She whimpered. “Yes, you have my consent.”

“Open your eyes.”

They flew open, and she met his gaze, all wild and unfocused.

He pressed his hand firmly against her lower belly. “And what do I have your consent to do?”

She shuddered. “Um, uh, anything. You can do anything… please, Lock.”

“Mm, I like that.” He nuzzled the side of her neck with his nose. Her scent hit his bloodstream faster than any drug he’d ever indulged in. “Such a pretty sound, you all desperate. Please, what? Tell me what you want.”

She trembled in his arms, and he’d never loved anything more. If he could, he’d stay right there for the next twenty-four hours, reveling in how badly she wanted him. The best part was how he’d remember this in the morning. He’d remember every breath, sound, and touch because he was stone-cold sober.

“Touch me,” she cried. “Touch me, Lock. Please fucking touch me.”

Hell yes. He skimmed his hand farther into her shorts and straight to the soaking-wet evidence of her arousal between her legs.

He danced his fingers across her opening before sinking his middle finger deep inside her.

“Oh, yes.” Brenna surged in his hold as she tightened her arm around his neck.

Lock licked the shell of her ear. “You’re needy. Oliver didn’t do a very good job of keeping you satisfied, did he?”

“N-no,” she whispered, then turned her head until her gaze collided with his. “No one ever has. Not like I know you will.”

Hell yes, he would. He kissed her with all the pent-up desire she’d built in him over the past few days.

The way she opened for him, allowing his tongue to play with hers, drove him fucking wild. There were no games, no pretenses with Brenna—just pure and honest want.

He tore his mouth from hers and pulled his hand from her sex. Brenna cried out in protest. “Shh,” he soothed. “There’s no way in fucking hell I’ll leave you hanging.”

Before she could reply, he turned her and pressed her back against the wall, then grabbed her wrists, anchoring them high above her head with one hand. He used his free hand, wet from her pussy, to shove her shorts down. In a blink, his finger was back inside her warm, wet pussy, and Brenna was arching off the wall with a moan.


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