"Fuck babe," Jax gasped into her neck, "I don't want to hurt you." He slide into his still healing wife until he was balls deep inside her.

"You won't," she promised him, her nails digging into the reaper that adorned his bare back, her heels pressed firmly into his tightly muscled bare ass, "I've missed you."

She pressed her lips to his, opening them to push her tongue into his mouth. He responded in kind, before withdrawing his hips until just the head was still inside her. He thrust back into her, making sure to not put any pressure or weight onto her abdomen or her swollen breasts.

He set a steady rhythm pulling out and thrusting back in. His hands held her legs spread apart as he took Tara against the wall of the kitchen inside the club house.

It was barely 4 am when he rolled over in their bed and found her side vacant. He took a quick inventory of the dorm and only found his three children all sleeping safely in their beds and cribs. Pulling on a pair of sweats, he placed a loving hand on each his babies, smiling softly at the gentle rise and fall of their little chests.

He walked down the hall, passing a few of the other dorm rooms, smiling fondly at his father's rebuilt Harley. Once he got to the bar dining area, he wasn't surprised to see a few members and Crow-eaters passed out in the open area. He could hear hooping, hollering, and music coming from outside.

He heard water running and the dulled thumps and clangs of the tell-tale signs of someone doing the dishes. He popped his head around the corner of the kitchen area and smiled adoringly at his wife's small form. She had on one of his SAMCRO white t-shirts that just barely grazed mid-thigh. He briefly wondered if she had on panties. He chuckled softly to himself because he knew what she would say if he asked her.

'You have Crow-eaters, porn stars and call girls running around here half fucking naked, but you're giving me shit about wearing panties when I'm practically wearing a dress?' She'd say.

'You are different! You know that! You're MY old lady! If one of these horny prospects gets some crazy idea to mess with you, I'd have to break his fucking hand.' He'd shoot back.

'Not if I break it first,' she'd counter, and cock an eyebrow at him and grin slyly.

She also wore mule slippers on her feet because 'Do you think I want to walk through jizz?'

He walked up behind her, smiling when he heard her softly humming to herself, pushed her hair to the side, laying his free hand softly just above her hip, and began gently sucking on her neck.

"I'm not sure who you are, but if my old man sees you molesting me like this, he may cut your dick off," she joked.

"Goddamn right he will," Jax growled before nipping the spot he just sucked on, then began sucking again, "You should be resting," he breathed into her neck well still assaulting her with kisses. He let his hands run up and down her waist and thighs, "Let the girls do this," he rasped into her neck.

"I've been cooped up in a bed for weeks," she sighed feeling his whiskers brush against her delicate skin, "And not for anything fun," she saucily pushed her hips back into his groin, his hardening cock reacting appropriately.

Groaning in pleasure, "Babe…. Don't start something we can't finish," he pleaded. He couldn't stand the thought of hurting her anymore.

Tara dropped the silverware she was washing, bent forward to reach the towel to dry her hands, that subtle movement causing friction, making him stiffen even more. Pushing back against him one more time, to give her still healing abdomen room to not hit the sink, she turned around to face him. She looked up at him, meeting his gorgeous blue eyes, laying both of her hands on his well-muscled bare chest.

She looked at him earnestly, "You're in my heart and my soul. You're my protector and I can't imagine my life without you. I love you, Jackson," she said whole-heartedly, a tear she didn't know was going to come out slipping down her cheek.

Taking in a ragged breath, he felt the words and the sincerity of them wallop him directly in the chest. He had no words for her. So he took action. His lips found hers as he bent and wrapped his hands around her thighs and picked her up so her legs straddled him. Her hands went to his hair to keep him in place as she devoured his mouth. He carried her to the nearest empty wall, and pinned her there. One of her hands left his hair and moved down between them, dipping inside his sweat pants and wrapping firmly around his stiffness.

"Please baby," she pleaded, "I need you inside me."

Somehow they were able to shred her panties away and push his sweatpants down enough so he was freed of his confinement, the top of his perfect bare ass free for anyone who happened by to see.

SOASOASOA

Winsome woke up on one of raggedy couches that littered the bar floor. She realized she must have passed out from the liquor she had drank. There were a few other people passed out around her.

Her throat was dry and her head was pounding. She realized it may be a good idea if she found some Tylenol and something to drink that wasn't alcohol related. Remembering were the kitchen was, she wobbled her way in that direction. The stiletto heels she wore did nothing to her balance, so she took a moment to kick those off. She tried not to think about all the nasty things she was walking on.

Just outside of the kitchen entry way, she heard voices or at least a voice, "I've missed you," was moaned out.

Unable to stop herself, she peeked her head around the corner and gawked at the sight.

The President of Sons of Anarchy's bare back, which featured a massive tattoo a reaper and scythe framed by the words Sons of Anarchy, and tight ass on full display, heels and fingernails clawing into his skin. His hips steadily grinding into who she presumed was his old lady.

"Harder baby," the woman moaned out.

"Don't wanna hurt you, babe," he repeated.

"You want," she repeated too.

"Hang on babe," he said.

Winsome watched in awe as he let her thighs rest on his, then moved his arms so they hooked under her legs and he spread her wider open. He pulled his hips back and pushed them forward, slamming into his wife's welcoming pussy.

"Fuck," Tara moaned out in appreciation.

"You good?" he asked in a voice that told Winsome he actually cared if he was hurting her.

"So good," she moaned in reply.

Jax set a steady pace of short and deep thrusts, Tara's hands moving over his shoulders, hair and face.

Winsome vaguely realized that she should not be watching this, that this was a private moment between husband and wife. But if it was so private, why do it were anyone could walk in on them? Then she thought about who this man and woman were and the respect they garnered from the people who knew them. If anyone else had seen this going on, they would've high-tailed it out there minutes ago.

Winsome ducked her head out of the door and decided to go to the bathroom instead.