Chapter Three

Then with a hard thrust, he broke through her resistance, sheathing himself fully in her warm tightness, making Alanna cry out in pain, and he froze.

‘It’s okay, little firebird, relax, the pain will pass quickly, leaving only pleasure.’

Slowly, he pulled out almost all the way, and then he eased back in to his root, watching her all the time, and he saw the moment the pain turned pleasure. Then he let himself go, gripping her slender hips and pounding into her his need for his own release overpowering him, and his little firebird had taken it, taken all he could give her. He had not let her return to her home, keeping her beside him; he made her his Queen, and he had believed she loved him as much as he loved her. She was his world; he was crazy about her, and she enjoyed the attention he showered on her. However, she was used to living in the lap of luxury, with her every wish catered to. It was a shock to her system when she discovered she was expected to do things for herself. When he told her to pick up her own clothes and use the laundrette, she had looked at him blankly.

‘Where are your servants?’

She asked him innocently and was not amused when he replied that he did not have any, so she would have to get used to doing stuff for herself; it had been an exciting novelty at first. She was defying her parents and living with a man they disapproved of, so much so that it was all so thrilling and new until the novelty wore off and she tired of living like the ‘poor people’ lived. Xavier lost patience with her time and time again when she could not grasp what he expected of her quickly enough, especially when the other women could do the task easily. He was quick to anger, reducing her to tears of frustration and anger. Many times, she would refuse to finish whatever it was she was supposed to be doing and walk away into the nearest town and find a bar to get wasted. It always ended the same way: Xavier would find her, carry her over his shoulder out to his bike and take her home. In the mornings he would put her over his knee and spank her pretty ass until it was bright red then fuck her senseless so he should have expected that the inevitable happened. Alanna had been with the Bikers for eighteen months when she discovered she was pregnant, and the thought of bringing her precious baby into the dirty, fight-fuelled world of these Biker gangs terrified her. So it was that Xavier returned from a business meeting with another Biker Leader longing to bury himself in his woman's warm, wet body, only to find her gone. She never even left a note, and she had left every last one of the many gifts he had bought, including the huge sparkling emerald engagement ring he had placed on her finger.

Xavier knew where she had run to; it wasn’t difficult to track her down, but he could not reach her behind the massive electric gates of her parents' ranch. He tried every trick he knew, but he could not get access to her, so he had no idea he had become a father to a beautiful baby girl six months later. Nor was he told of the death of the woman he loved so deeply. A month later, Alanna had slipped into a coma not long after holding her tiny baby girl for the first time, and she had died four weeks later without ever opening her eyes again. Xavier only found out by accident that he was in the town centre when her funeral cortege moved slowly past in all its flowery glory.

‘Who is that?’

He asked the man trimming his long hair, Hugo arched his elegant brow at the handsome Biker Gang Leader, wondering if he could get him to change his heterosexual ways.

‘Oh, that’s the daughter of the billionaire rancher, sad really, not even twenty, poor little thing passed away last week, she was their only child. Such a shame she was so young, although I heard she was a bit of a rebel  and they could not control her.’

A deep pain filled his chest as his eyes followed the hearse carrying the snow white coffin covered in blue and white roses,

‘Her favourite flowers.’

He thought and berated himself for never buying them for her, he had told her angrily,

‘That he had never bought a woman flowers and he wasn’t starting with her pretty spoilt ass.’

She had been so hurt by his thoughtless words, turning from him and walking away, her shoulders drooping in defeat. Once again, she had learned the hard way that he was not the man she had dreamed about.

‘You mean that is Alanna?’

He demanded from Hugo, who was startled at the anger in his voice,

‘Yes, it’s the little heiress.’

Without another word, he threw a handful of bills onto the bench in front of him and strode out of the Barber Shop, throwing his leg over the powerful custom-built Harley and roaring off in the opposite direction.  He rode along the rain-slicked streets for hours, unaware of the tears streaming down his cheeks, his fingers clenched so white on the handle it was a wonder it had not broken.

‘She was gone.’

He thought,

‘The light of his life snuffed out before he could get her back.’

It was his own fault, he had been so cruel to her, getting a kick out of her discomfort at the things he asked her to do, humilating her when she failed. She had taken it all for him, allowing him to dominate her completely because she had fallen in love with him, and he had taken advantage of that love. He had used her, taking what he wanted, tying her to him so easily until she had broken, yet she had found enough courage to leave him.