by Ivy Black
Slowly, my orgasm fades and as I catch my breath, Derek gets to his feet, and as our mouths crash together once more, he drives his stiff cock into me without warning. He stretches me open and there’s a sharp pinch of pain that makes the pleasure flowing through me even brighter. I bite my bottom lip, relishing the entire gamut of sensations coursing through me and wanting even more.
Derek starts to thrust himself into me, his long, thick cock plunging into the deepest parts of me. I lean forward and bite his shoulder, muffling my cries. But he keeps driving himself forward, piercing me deeply and hitting that spot that sets off explosions of ecstasy inside of me.
I grab hold of Derek’s shoulders, my nails biting into his skin. He lets out a low growl followed by a soft laugh.
“The last ones haven’t healed up yet, you know,” he says.
“Stop being such a big baby,” I reply with a wide grin on my face.
He finds my mouth with his, never breaking the hard, steady rhythm of Derek plunging his cock into me over and over. Everything inside of me is lighting up with pleasure and I don’t want him to stop. The feelings running through me are absolutely electric.
When he pulls me down off the counter, a frown of disappointment crosses my face. But when he spins me around and pushes me down over the counter, I smile. A moment later, he slides his cock between my velvety folds again, filling me up completely. Derek reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair, yanking it back hard as he can as he starts to fuck me.
The feeling of him pulling my hair as he thrusts himself into me in a steady, pounding rhythm is exquisite and has me crying out and calling his name. I push myself back against him, taking him even deeper into me. With one hand on my shoulder and the other still pulling my hair, Derek keeps pounding me, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling my ears.
Even though we’re not looking each other in the eye, that feeling of connection between us continues to grow. Strengthen. I feel closer to him than I ever have to anybody before in my life. The depth of my feelings for him is incalculable, which is confounding me since we haven’t been seeing each other very long at all. But it’s not something I’m going to question… it just feels too good to care about right now.
“Harder, Derek. Harder, baby,” I gasp.
He obliges me, grunting as he powers himself into me with a force that rattles the bones in my body but sends shockwaves of bliss through me at the same time. His grip on my hair and shoulder tighten up and I feel his body stiffening behind me. His breath is ragged and shallow, and a low growling passes his lips.
As he buries himself into my hot, wet center, I feel his shaft swell. I feel his cock begin to throb and I cry out as an orgasm comes crashing down over me out of the blue. I tremble from head to toe, a bright line of heat and light filling me. I press my forehead to the cool tile of the counter as I cum, giving myself over to the sensations that are gripping me tightly.
Derek lets out a choked gasp and a moment later, I feel him erupt. He bursts inside of me, filling me up with his hot, sticky seed. We remain coupled together like that and every twitch of Derek’s cock sends another spasm of pleasure through me. I slowly stand up and turn around, pulling him into a warm embrace.
I melt against him, feeling comfortable. Feeling content and satisfied. But most of all, feeling safe. Of everything that Derek makes me feel, it’s the fact that he makes me feel safe that I cherish the most. It’s also one of the things that’s been the most unexpected. When I first ran into him on the street that night, I never expected that I could feel this way.
I still don’t know exactly what to do with it all, but like everything else, I’m just going to go with it. We’ll figure it all out as we go, I suppose. In the meantime, I’m just going to enjoy it for what it is.
“I don’t know how it is you make me feel this way,’ I tell him. “I don’t know how you make me feel this way.”
“Years of fantasies and pent-up sexual frustration,” he says, and I laugh.
“Well, whatever it is, keep it up,” I tell him. “It’s straight magic.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” he says with a laugh.
Chapter Eighteen
Spyder
“I’m not gonna lie to you guys… this is gonna get nasty,” Prophet says.
“You sure you should even be out here, boss? I mean, no offense or anything, but you’re still pretty banged up,” Monk notes as some of the other guys murmur their agreement.
“I’m fine,” Prophet replies. “I’m not gonna ask you guys to do something that I’m not willing to do myself. That’s not how I lead. You all know that.”
Domino and I share a look and I can see the same concern in his eyes that I’m feeling. For an op like this, we need to be fast and agile. And although Prophet is healing remarkably quickly, he’s still nowhere near one-hundred-percent. He could be a liability out in the field.
I clear my throat. “Prez, nobody’s gonna say anything if you stay here with the bikes instead of—”
“I said I’m fine. I’m not sitting it out. If you guys go in, I’m goin’ in. That’s just the way it is,” Prophet snaps at me. “Now, I appreciate the concern, but that’s enough of that shit. And don’t worry, I’m not going to get in your way. I’m not going to be a liability out there.”
I look away, a rueful grin on my lips. It’s almost as if he’d been reading my mind or something. But when I cut a glance around at the rest of the guys, see them all looking away, at least I can see I’m not the only one who had that thought in mind. Prophet’s always been a good leader of this MC, and from what I’m told, was a hell of a platoon commander back in the shit, so it’s not really all that surprising he knew the concerns we all had. A good commander is going to know all of the variables in an op beforehand, as well as what his men are thinking.
The sun is slipping below the horizon and the world around us is cast in the dark purple and darker blue shades of twilight. About a dozen of us are standing in a dirt lot just off the highway, and in front of us stands a tall, imposing forest. About a half mile to the west is our target… a small, isolated farmhouse.
“We sure the intel is good, prez?” one of the guys asks.
Prophet nods. “Tarantula gave us the heads up,” he says. “A few of us scouted the cabin the other day. The intel is solid.”
Tarantula had called to let Prophet know Zavala had put some of his soldiers in a safe house on the outskirts of Blue Rock. He’d said they were planning something, but he didn’t have the particulars other than it involved taking a few of us out. Zavala has apparently been planning on whittling down our numbers with hit-and-run attacks. He thought it would eventually whittle down our numbers enough that we couldn’t continue to fight or demoralize enough of the guys that they’d just leave… achieving the same result.
It’s a smart tactic. The fighters over in Afghanistan and Iraq employed the same basic idea, though they didn’t have quite the level of success the Vietnamese did with that style of guerrilla warfare half a century ago. Against a small group like us, though, that kind of fighting would be devastating. If they picked us off one or two at a time, it really wouldn’t be long before we were reduced to nothing.
Which is why we’re here… to make Zavala think twice about taking us on. We’re going to show him what trained soldiers can do and why it’s best he not stir up this hornet’s nest. The thing we have that Zavala knows he doesn’t is training and discipline. The majority of his men aren’t soldiers. They’re untrained trigger-pullers who have no discipline or combat training.
They’re mean as hell and with a weapon in their hand, they’re as deadly as anybody else. But when the shit starts getting heated and the bullets are flying, I would bet everything I have that they’ll break and run in the face of the sort of tactical offensive we can muster. And Zavala knows it, which is why he’s planning on this hit-and-run, sneak-attack jobs, hoping he can head us off before we get organized.
It’s too late fo
r that, though. I’ll have to remember to buy Tarantula and Bala a beer the next time I see them.
“You okay, man?”
I look over and see Domino looking at me with a bit of concern in his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m good. Why do you ask?”
He shrugs. “I mean, this is really gonna be your first taste of combat. Figured you might be a little tight.”
I’m not gonna lie—I’m tight as hell right now. My stomach is turning itself inside out and my heart hasn’t stopped hammering on the inside of my chest in the last hour. But I’m a Marine. Perhaps not tested like the guys around me, but certainly trained as well as any of them. I give Domino a nod.
“I’m good, bro. Seriously,” I tell him. “You aren’t gonna have to worry about me.”
“If I don’t, who will?” he says with a grin. “Besides, if anything happened to you, I’m pretty sure Bellamy would kick my ass, so it’s in my best interest to make sure you get out of here in one piece.”
I smirk. “What are you talking about?”
“I see her now and again when I take Cole to school or pick him up,” he replies. “We talk now and then.”
“Oh, you do, huh?”
He nods. “We do.”
I’m just about to ask him more when Prophet calls me out. “You got somethin’ to add, Spyder?”
I shake my head. “Nothin’, prez.”
“Then shut your hole and listen up.”
“Yes, sir.”
Prophet goes over the plan with us… half of us will approach from the woods to the south of the cabin, the other half will approach from the woods to the west, and Domino is going to be stationed to the east with his sniper rifle, tasked with picking off anybody who tries to escape. The parameters of the mission are clear… nobody walks away alive. We want our message to Zavala to be loud and clear.
“Okay, that’s it. Make sure your night vision is working,” Prophet says. “Silence on the comms and wait for the signal. Any questions?”
I look around and nobody seems to have any. They all look tense and yet eager to get this going. It’s as if everybody feels the dark cloud that is Miguel Zavala hanging over our heads and we know the sooner we dispose of the problem, the sooner the clouds lift, the sun shines down on us, and we get our lives and operations back to normal. We won’t have to keep watching over our shoulders for one of Zavala’s men to put a bullet in the back of our heads.
“All right. Let’s move it out then,” Prophet says. “Watch your backs and be careful, fellas.”
We break into our teams and head out. I’m with Cosmo’s squad and we’ll be coming up with the main assault team coming from the south. I adjust the night vision goggles over my eyes, trying to get used to the ghostly green glow of the world as we pick our way through the woods, moving as quickly and quietly as we can.
“You ready for this?” Cosmo asks.
“As ready as I’m gonna be,” I reply quietly, but with heat in my voice. “And y’all can stop asking me anytime. I’m a fuckin’ Marine. Maybe I wasn’t in the shit with you guys, but I’m a Marine all the same.”
Cosmo gives me a grin. “That’s what I like to hear, Marine.”
We stop just before the edge of the tree line and hunker down, waiting for the signal to launch our attack. Lights glow in the cabin’s windows and every now and then, we can see shadows crossing the curtains. We hear laughter and loud music coming from inside the cabin, and a thick plume of smoke curls out of the chimney, drifting upward and filling the air with the aroma of a campfire. It’s a scent I’ve always loved, personally.
Surveying the terrain, I see about fifty yards of open ground between us and the cabin, which isn’t great. At least it’s overcast, though, which enhances the dark of the evening and will provide us a little bit of cover at least.
“Alpha team in place,” Cosmo reports in over the comm.
We wait in silence as the other team and Domino all move into place. They had a longer trek through the woods than we did, so it takes a few minutes. That time is filled with an increasing sense of tension among the guys. Everybody is locked, loaded, and ready to rock. An energy I can only describe as excitement is growing more and more palpable.
It’s definitely a feeling I share with them. The guys I’m with have all been through this before. They’ve been in more firefights than they can probably even count. They’re tested and battle-hardened. I’m a virgin. So yeah, I’m a little bit tense about this all going down. The idea that this could be the last thing I ever do in this world, not to mention that last night could have been the last time I ever see Bellamy again is freaking me out a bit, to be honest.
What I hate the most is that if this all goes sideways and I go down, she’s never going to know what happened to me. All she’s going to know is that I’m gone. That I just disappeared off the face of the earth. I’m sure Zavala’s guys would put us all in a big pit and cover us up… a mass grave like they’ve found in Mexico. And given how remote this place is, that grave might never be found.
The idea that Bellamy would be left with questions and no answers, that all she’d know is that I vanished is bothering me more than I can say. But at the same time, I can’t leave my brothers hanging. I won’t. They need me to be here and so I am. I’m here to help protect them and the MC. I feel like it’s my duty and responsibility to be here and taking part in this fight.
This is one of those things Bellamy was worried about me being a part of. One of those things that scare her about the MC. And yeah, maybe this is treading pretty close to that line of things you see in movies and on TV that give people the impression of an MC they typically seem to have. This is the sort of violence people all seem to think is an everyday thing for us. It’s not, of course. This sort of thing is rare and an exception to the rule. But we need to handle our business.
“Beta team ready,” Prophet’s hushed voice comes over the comm.
And a moment later, Domino’s voice fills my earpiece. “Overwatch in position.”
With all of the pieces in place, I know it’s time. My stomach tightens, my mouth goes dry, and the adrenaline is flowing through me freely.
“All right,” Prophet’s voice sounds. “Alpha team, move in.”
Cosmo gives us all a nod and we start across the open ground, moving low and fast. From the corner of my eye, I see Prophet’s team break cover and close in on the cabin. We’re still about twenty yards from the front door when it suddenly opens, the light from inside spilling out and slicing through the darkness. The man filling the doorway freezes when he sees us, then quickly utters a curse in Spanish and darts back into the cabin, slamming the door behind him.
“Shit. Jig’s up,” Prophet’s voice comes through my earpiece. “Light it up, boys.”
All at once, the air around me crackles with gunfire as we open up on the cabin. Splinters of wood explode and the glass of the windows shatter as our bullets tear through the walls of the cabin. The muzzle flashes of our weapons light up the night, giving it a strobe effect that’s disorienting.
As we all stop to reload, Zavala’s men take advantage of the respite and return fire.
“Take cover!” Cosmo shouts.
There’s not much in the way of cover to take, but everybody is scrambling, running for the cars that are parked to the side of the cabin. I hear the bullets from Zavala’s men pinging and whining off the metal of the vehicles, and then the screaming of at least a couple of our guys who’ve been hit.
“Jinx and Popper are down! Somebody get them to cover!” Prophet’s voice comes over the comm. “Alpha team, lay down cover fire.”
Still huddled behind the cars, we all get to our feet and open fire. Our bullets tear through the walls, forcing the cartel men to take cover themselves. It gives our guys enough time to scramble out and grab hold of Tank and Popper, both of whom look to be alive, but in horrible agony as they writhe in the grip of the men pulling them off the battlefield.
The rest of us duck down
behind the cars to reload again, but I lean around the car and see the front door fly open. One of the soldiers comes rushing out, his weapon up and firing. But then, I hear the sharp crack of a single shot, and the cartel soldier’s body jerks and twitches as he falls to the floor of the porch. A pool of dark liquid I know can only be blood forms around him. Another soldier runs out behind him and he suffers the same fate as the first guy. Two for two. Domino’s locked in and he rarely misses.
The door slams shut again, and the men inside apparently get wise to what’s happening out here. But they continue firing from the windows and we continue firing back. We’re in a stalemate here. A real Mexican standoff, so to speak. We need to do something to break this jam and put an end to this. If not, it might not be long before we’re all out of bullets and will need to resort to throwing rocks and sticks at one another. And that’s not really the sort of strong, intimidating message Prophet is hoping to send Zavala with this attack.
“I’ve got an idea,” I say.
Cosmo looks at me, his face pinched and strained. “What are you gonna do?”
“Just cover me.”
“Kid, don’t do somethin’, this is all gonna go to shit. And I’m pretty sure it’ll only piss Zavala off even more, not scare him off. Now, cover me,” I tell him.
I fish a few of the flash-bang grenades I’d stuffed in my pack as an afterthought before we left the compound. I didn’t think I’d actually have to use them, but I’m suddenly grateful I’d brought them anyway. Cosmo looks at the grenades in my hand and shakes his head.
“That’s too much open ground with those fuckers at the windows,” he says.
“Just lay down some cover fire and when these things go off, y’all better get your asses through that door.”
He looks at me with a grim expression on his face but apparently comes to accept the foolishness of my plan. There really is nothing else we can do. Zavala’s men have us pinned down and if we don’t want to go limping back to the clubhouse with our tails between our legs, we’ve got to do something bold. Perhaps even something foolish.