Chapter 29 Engines and Vows
Killian’s POV
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Blaise’s warning lingers in my mind: Cyrus is hunting for blood, desperate to avenge his fallen chapter. The tension gnaws at me, but I force myself to push it aside. Valentina and Giuliana are ghosts- meticulous, methodical, untraceable. I trust them. There’s not a shred of evidence left behind. But tonight, something bigger sits in my chest, pounding harder than fear or anger: I need to make Valentina my wife. And that thought, impossibly, is more nerve-wracking than any vendetta.
I’m restless, pacing the common room, the floorboards groaning under each step. The clubhouse smells of leather and old whiskey. Outside, Gia is humming in the kitchen, pots and pans clanging like distant thunder. Slate’s out, handling some club business. Valentina’s curled up in our bed, breathing softly, lost in a dream I wish I could see. Alone, I drift from wall to wall, overthinking every possible proposal. Each idea seems clumsier than the last. I’ve scrolled through more cringey proposal videos than any self-respecting biker should ever admit, but none of that shit feels like us.
I don’t even realize I’m muttering until Raptor appears, arms folded, an eyebrow arched. “You planning to wear a hole through the floor, or are you just losing your mind?”
I force a laugh, shaking my head. “Trying to figure out how to do something important. Not having much luck.”
Raptor grins, settling into an armchair. “Let’s hear it. Might as well let me help, seeing as I’m now stuck watching you circle the furniture like a psycho.”
I glance around, lowering my voice. “Slate and I want to propose to Gia and Valentina. But we can’t figure out how to make it… right. Real.”
Raptor’s eyes widen, and for a split second I think he might offer something useful. Instead, he erupts into laughter, deep and unrestrained. I barely hesitate before punching him in the gut, just to remind him who’s boss. He doubles over, gasping, laughter morphing into coughs.
“Shit, Killy. That hurt. I was just starting to think you’d gone soft, but I guess you still hit like a bastard.”
“Keep laughing and you’ll find out how soft I’m not,” I growl, but my own lips are twitching with a smile.
Raptor straightens, rubbing his ribs. “Alright, alright. But really, you’re sweating this way too hard. Just do it in the middle of fucking her. As soon as you come, pop the question.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “Because every woman dreams of a proposal when she’s dripping with cum.”
He just shrugs, the grin never leaving his face. “With Valentina? Flowers and candles aren’t her style,
man.”
“She deserves all of that, even if it’s not what she’s used to.” I look away, softer now. “How do you know she wouldn’t want the fairy tale?”
He leans in, voice low. “She let you share her. That girl is wild-yours in every sense. She’s not about hearts and flowers.”
I glare. “You calling my girl a whore?”
He throws up his hands, immediately backing off. “No, man. Never. I meant she’s the rare one, the woman who can handle your world. That night-she was fire. You’re a lucky bastard. Her mouth-fuck,
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man.”
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A growl escapes my throat, the old protective urge rearing its head. Raptor sees it and puts both palms up. “Relax. I’d never go near her. Club or not, I know the line.”
We both fall silent for a beat, the tension giving way to something like respect. Finally, he leans in. “Let’s talk about how you’re actually gonna do this. I have an idea…”
His plan is brilliant-raw, honest, and undeniably us. Before I can thank him, Slate walks in, face brightening as I share the scheme. He’s on board instantly, grabbing his keys to gather supplies. I head out to the shed, digging through dust and old tools, hunting for lanterns, an old blanket, anything that might set the mood. My mind races through every detail, desperate to make it perfect.
As dusk settles, we mount up, Valentina pressed tight against my back, her warmth calming my nerves. The air tastes electric, thick with anticipation. We ride through winding hills, engines snarling and fading as city lights blink on below. The world feels smaller from up here-like anything is possible, even for men like me.
We crest a hill, Slate leading with Gia clinging to his waist. I pull off, kill the engine, and feel Valentina’s arms slide from around me. For a second, we just breathe. The night wraps us in its cool embrace, the smell of wildflowers and distant rain hanging between us.
Slate and I lead the girls down a trail flanked by flickering tiki torches. In a small clearing, a picnic blanket waits, basket in the middle, lanterns casting golden halos on the grass. The air hums with the opening chords of Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.” I hook up the speakers, catch Valentina’s hand, and pull her against me. The song fills the night, blending with the sound of our laughter and the rustle of leaves overhead.
We dance, slow and close, heartbeats syncing to each note. Then Bon Jovi’s “Always” plays, and I feel my resolve harden, the moment coiling inside me. Slate and Gia sway nearby, their shadows merging in the warm light. Slate meets my eyes, nods. The plan is in motion.
Together, we let go of our women, drop to one knee-two rings, two promises held out under the vast sky.
“Valentina,” my voice is thick, but certain. “I love you. You’re already my Old Lady, but I want more. I want you as my wife. Will you marry me? Be my Vandal Angel for life?”
Gia squeals, throwing herself at Slate, the word “Yes!” tumbling out again and again. Valentina’s eyes shine, brimming with tears and mischief, the corners of her mouth curling up in a grin I’ll chase to my last breath. She sinks to her knees in front of me, hands closing around mine and the ring.
“Axel,” she whispers, fierce and unguarded, “I love you. You let me be exactly who I am. Yes, I’ll marry you. Always.”
I slip the ring on her finger, feeling something shift inside me-some old wound finally closing. We fall together onto the blanket with the others, opening the basket to find wine, beer, cheese, meats, and a chocolate cream pie for good measure. We eat, trading stories and laughter as darkness settles and the city glimmers below, each light a silent witness to the life we’re building.
Later, as Journey’s “Faithfully” drifts through the speakers, I cradle Valentina in my arms, the world slipping away until there’s only her. She looks up, breathless and beautiful, the city reflected in her
eyes.
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“This was perfect, Axel. Thank you for making it special.”
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I grin, voice rough with relief. “Raptor said you’d want something wild, not romantic. He told me I should have asked you while I was buried inside you.”
She throws her head back, laughter spilling into the night. “I would have said yes, even then. It’s not about how-it’s about you.” She sobers, hand finding mine. “I spent years thinking I had to settle, thinking love was something you had to work for, something that hurt more than it healed. But you- you showed me it can be wild, messy, and still feel like home.”
“You and me both, baby.” My voice is soft, almost reverent as I gaze at her. “I think I started falling for you that very night. Or at least-hell, infatuation hit me like a truck. You turned my world upside down. And that first ride on my bike with you clinging to me? I still replay it in my head.”
She grins, eyes dancing. “Maybe we should do that again sometime,” she teases, waggling her e yebrows in that way that always gets to me.
I can’t help but nod like an idiot, and she laughs-musical, bright, alive. “God, I love you,” I murmur, cupping her face and drawing her into a deep kiss.
She hums against my mouth, her fingers threading through
my hair as
world fades out. The kiss growl, “Let’s get the hell out of
deepens, all hunger and memory, and I break away just long enough, th She laughs, breathless and wild. “Yes, Killian, Yed to fuck her senseless.”
here. I need to make love to my fiancée-and then I need to fuck
sure know how to win a woman’s heart.” sure know how
for my bike. We
I smack her ass, hard enough to make her yelp and
wave a quick goodbye to Gia and Slate, who catch the look in our eyes and just grin knowingly. Valentina climbs on behind me, arms circling my waist as we roar off into the twilight.
Her hands are wandering almost immediately, slipping beneath my shirt, palms sliding over my abs. My body reacts to her touch-instantly, fiercely. Then her hand drifts lower, undoing my jeans with practiced ease, and suddenly she’s got my cock in her grip, stroking slow and deliberate. The rumble in my throat is half-moan, half-threat, but she just grins, working me with wicked skill. The wind whips past us, the bike vibrating beneath us, and still she jerks me harder, faster.
Her thumb teases the head, slick with pre-cum, and I groan, desperate to keep the bike upright, desperate not to lose myself right there in the open air. But she knows exactly what she’s doing, and I surrender to the sensation, letting her drag pleasure from me with every stroke.
“Fuck,” I snarl, hips jerking as I come hard, spilling over her hand and my shirt. She laughs, satisfied, and tucks me away just as we roll through the gates, still tingling with release.
We park, and I swing off, sweeping her into my arms bridal-style. The party is raging inside, music and voices roaring, but I don’t stop, don’t even slow down. I carry her straight through the Furies, ignoring the jeers and catcalls, not caring who sees. At our door, she punches in the code, breath hot against my neck.
“Get ready, baby,” I whisper, setting her down, my voice rough and low. “I’m about to ruin you.”
She gives me that wicked smile, all challenge and promise. “Bring it on, big guy. I’m ready for the ride.”
We tear off our clothes, a frenzy of hands and laughter. I hoist her up and toss her onto the bed, where she lands with a delighted squeal. I follow, covering her body with mine, crushing her lips beneath mine in a kiss that devours. My hands slip between her legs, finding her soaked and ready.
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“Damn, babe,” I murmur, voice raw with awe. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”
I flip her, taking my time, lowering her onto me, both of us groaning as I fill her. Her hips find their rhythm, slow and deliberate, then faster, grinding and sliding until she’s gasping, hands braced on my abs, riding me hard. Each time she slams down, pleasure spikes through us both.
“That’s it, baby. Take everything you need.” My hands grip her waist, guiding her, pulling her down harder, deeper. Her moans grow louder, her body shuddering as she starts to lose control. I palm her breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers until she’s begging for more.
“Harder, Killian!” she cries, head tossed back, hair wild and glorious.
I pinch, twist, just the way she loves, and her climax rips through her-a scream, a quake, her whole body shaking. I hold her tight, then flip us again, driving up into her over and over until I can’t hold back. With a shout, I slam her down and empty myself inside her, every muscle locked in ecstasy.
She collapses on top of me, breath ragged, sweat cooling on our skin. I wrap my arms around her, lips brushing her temple. “You’re incredible,” I whisper, the words heavy with truth. She melts against me, breath slowing, and within minutes she’s asleep, safe and sated in my arms.
