JOIN THE RIDE OR BE MINE

BLACK UNICORN DEN

I clung to Lance’s broad back as the Harley roared through the darkened streets of Ravenport. My heart was still racing from the alley — from his fingers, his mouth, the way he’d edged me so cruelly and then stopped right when I was about to shatter. My panties were ruined, my thighs sticky, and every vibration from the powerful bike only made the aching need between my legs worse.

We weren’t heading toward my quiet neighborhood. We weren’t heading toward the glittering downtown penthouse I knew he lived in either. Instead, Lance turned the bike toward the industrial outskirts, where the streetlights grew sparse and the shadows felt heavier.

The compound appeared suddenly — a massive fortified warehouse complex surrounded by high chain-link fences topped with razor wire. Black gates rolled open automatically as we approached. The sign above the entrance was simple but menacing: Black Unicorn MC – Private Property.

This was it. His other world.

Lance killed the engine in front of a large building that looked part bar, part fortress. Dozens of other motorcycles were lined up like sleeping beasts. Music thumped faintly from inside, mixed with rough male laughter and the clink of bottles.

He helped me off the bike, his big hands lingering on my waist. My legs felt like jelly. Before I could speak, he pulled me against his chest and kissed me again — deep, hungry, and possessive. His tongue claimed my mouth while one hand slid down to cup my ass, squeezing hard.

“Inside,” he growled against my lips. “Now.”

He didn’t give me a chance to hesitate. His arm stayed wrapped around my shoulders as he led me through the heavy steel doors.

The inside of the Black Unicorn Den hit me like a sensory overload. Dim red and golden lights. The smell of cigarette smoke, whiskey, and leather. A long bar ran along one wall manned by a tattooed woman. Pool tables, leather couches, and a raised platform with a stripper pole filled the space. At least twenty rough-looking men in Black Unicorn cuts turned to look at us the moment we entered.

Whispers rippled through the room.

“Is that the boss’s new piece?”

“Executive assistant, I heard…”

Lance’s grip on me tightened. He pulled me closer and kissed me right there in front of everyone — a slow, filthy kiss that made it crystal clear I belonged to him. His hand slipped under my skirt again, fingers stroking possessively over my soaked panties as several of the men whistled.

“Eyes up here,” he barked without breaking the kiss. The room instantly quieted.

He finally pulled back, leaving me breathless and flushed. “Jax. Church. Now.”

The man from earlier — Jax “Steel” Harlan — nodded and disappeared down a hallway. Lance guided me toward a quieter corner booth, but not before I noticed something that made my stomach tighten.

A group of three men near the bar were watching us with open hostility. One of them had a different patch — a red devil horn design. Los Diablos.

Lance noticed them too. His entire body went rigid beside me, like a predator sensing rival prey.

He sat down heavily on the leather couch and yanked me onto his lap so I was straddling him. My skirt rode up dangerously high, but he didn’t care. One large hand gripped the back of my neck while the other slid between my thighs again.

“Focus on me, Sunshine,” he murmured, voice low and dark. His fingers pushed my panties aside and stroked my bare, dripping folds. “Not them.”

I gasped as he sank one thick finger inside me, pumping slowly while his thumb circled my c**t. My forehead dropped against his shoulder as pleasure flooded my body again.

“Who are those men?” I whispered shakily, trying to stay coherent while he fingered me right there in the middle of his clubhouse.

“Rivals,” he answered, voice rough. He added a second finger, stretching me, curling them deep. “Los Diablos. Led by a piece of s**t named Rico Morales. They’ve been testing my territory for months. Stealing shipments. Jumping my prospects. They think because I wear a suit during the day, I’ve gone soft.”

He thrust his fingers harder, making me moan into his neck. His leather cut smelled like smoke and danger. I could feel how hard he was beneath me, his massive erection pressing against my core through his pants.

“But I’m not soft with what’s mine,” he growled. He bit my earlobe, then sucked on my neck, leaving another dark mark. “And you, Eliona… you’re the softest, sweetest thing I’ve ever decided to ruin.”

His fingers moved faster, perfectly stroking that spot inside me while his thumb pressed firm circles on my c**t. I was so close again — trembling, whimpering, grinding down on his hand like a desperate slut in front of his entire club.

Just when my walls started fluttering and my orgasm began to crest, he pulled his fingers out completely.

I cried out in frustration, nails digging into his shoulders.

Lance brought his glistening fingers to my lips this time. “Open.”

I obeyed. He pushed them into my mouth, letting me taste myself on his skin. His blue eyes burned with dark satisfaction as I sucked obediently.

“Good girl,” he praised, voice husky. “You’ll learn to love the taste of your own need for me.”

Before I could recover, Jax returned, looking tense. “Prez, we’ve got a problem. Two Diablos outside the gate. They’re asking about the ‘pretty corporate b***h’ you rode in with.”

Lance’s expression turned lethal. His hand tightened on my thigh hard enough to bruise.

He looked straight into my eyes, the gentle petting gone. In its place was the cold, ruthless President of the Black Unicorn MC.

“Looks like our little secret didn’t stay secret for long, sweetheart.”

He kissed me once more — hard, claiming, almost violent — then lifted me off his lap and stood up, every inch the dangerous king of this underworld.

“Stay right here,” he ordered, voice leaving no room for argument. “And don’t talk to anyone.”

As he walked away with Jax and several armed brothers toward the front gate, I sat there trembling with unspent arousal, fear, and something far more dangerous.

I was already sinking.

And the man who had his fingers inside me minutes ago was about to show me exactly how bloody his other life really was.