by Snow, Nicole
Hot, wet cream bathed my tongue. I licked straight through her folds, loving the way her ass bounced near my head the harder I stroked, feeling her cheeks go taut when I hit her clit.
Bingo.
My mouth drew her nub in, holding it ransom for my tongue, 'til she let go and found her sweet release. When her sweet knees began to shake in my hands, I knew it wasn't far off.
Go on, baby, I thought, mouth too full of the best pussy in the world to speak. Come for me. Come your fucking brains out.
I heard the sheets rustling through her moans. She must've been clawing them something fierce, struggling to hold on before her body went nova.
No mercy. No holding back. I ate her like she was the best damned thing I'd never tasted.
Best of all, I didn't have to try, because it was no fucking joke. No lie. Every bit of this was real, from shoving my ring on her finger earlier, to laying her flesh out for the most passionate loving bleeding out my soul.
“Just a little longer,” she moaned breathlessly. “Sting – fuck!”
Her hips rolled backward and I held her tight, forcing her to stay open, quickening my tongue lashes. Baby girl rocketed straight into the ether, losing herself in my licks, seizing up as sheer ecstasy lit her nerves on fire.
I couldn't stop smiling as I lapped through her climax, knowing I had a lifetime of this ahead.
It took her a couple minutes to stop shuddering and catch her breath. When she finally did, I kissed my way up, standing and laying one hand on her back.
The insatiable fuck between my legs was finally gonna get what he needed. I popped her bra and squeezed her tits, making her roll her bare ass against me, enjoying the friction for a couple hot seconds as my dick ballooned to full hardness.
“I'm gonna fuck you now, Alice. First fuck wearing my ring. You stay right here, with me, and let it all go, just like we did on the dance floor, baby. You ready for that?”
“What aren't I ready for with you?” She said, giving a little nod.
I smiled. Good girl. My hips rocked against hers one more time, loving how she gasped when my cock teased her cheeks.
My fingers worked fast. These fucking clothes were long overdue to get lost. I dropped everything, kicking outta my jeans and boxers last, then pressed my cock to her ass to savor her warmth.
She bobbed eagerly, grinding her little ass into me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck...
My hand shot up, caught her hair, and fisted it at the same time I sank into her. Started pushing into her with long, ferocious strokes, pounding so deep my balls clapped her sweet flesh. Her ass cheeks rippled each time I drove deep, claiming her pussy, crazed as the first time I ever fucked it.
Hearing her moan, lost in total fire, was all the approval I needed. I fucked her like my wife, my old lady.
Tender. Rough. Intense.
Deep, too – especially goddamned deep.
One fine day I'd pump a live load into her after she went off birth control and get our first kid cooking in her womb. I couldn't wait to have a family. Sure, we'd both had fucked up childhoods, but we'd learned enough tough lessons to know how to do it right.
I didn't doubt that shit for a single second.
We fucked and rocked and sweated, her whimpering and propping herself up on her toes. I breathed in her ear, telling her to come on my dick, leaning back so I could watch my brand bob as she sank down around my cock again and again.
Fuck, I'd never get tired of seeing PROPERTY OF STINGER scrawled there. Just like I wouldn't get sick of seeing the new ring on her finger.
Almost as sweet as hearing her tense up and call my name. Close, yeah, but fuck hearing her gasp and explode had no competition. It always won, and it always fucking would too.
“Sting! Come with me. I want you, Lucas. Fill me.”
No ifs, ands, or even fucking buts about that. When I heard her beg for my come, I went ballistic, turning to molten energy, nothing but the fire crackling in my balls.
She started to come a second ahead of me, and I fucking lost it. I bared my teeth, growling, deepening my thrusts so hard they shook the bed through her body. I hammered in tight, held my swelling cock to her womb, and flooded her pussy.
Nothing compared to coming in this woman. Nothing.
Riding into the setting sun on my bike was close, but even that shit didn't give me half the carefree fire I got when I jerked on top of her, staking my claim the deepest, most primal way a man can.
Every romp seemed better than the last, but this one was off the fucking charts. No exaggeration. Her legs pulsed against mine, and she gasped and moaned beneath me, her grunts matching mine as our bodies gushed, truly spending themselves.
It was a beautiful relief just to be done, to be free from that rabid need to empty my balls inside her for a few fucking seconds. Shame it wouldn't last long – maybe five or ten minutes tops.
Hell, shame she was killing me, day by day, one hour full of fucking at a time. This old lady was gonna make me draw my last breath someday with her name on my lips, and I was okay with that.
I pulled out, smiling as I wiped my dick and watched her roll, gliding back on the bed to make room for me. Right between her legs was a natural spot for me to take when we started up again, and I held myself there, running my stubble along her neck, kissing a hot path to her lips.
“Sting?”
“Yeah, baby?” I said, loving the sunset in her eyes when she looked up at me.
“Can you believe all the crap we've been through brought us here? Sometimes, when I start to think...I just can't believe it. There were so many times I almost gave up. I almost lost you.”
Her voice was strained. We'd been through the wringer emotionally today. Understandable.
Still, I'd be damned if I was gonna let her crack now and dwell on melancholy shit when we had a whole night of fucking ahead.
“Yeah. I can believe it all, girl, because we fucking lived it. All the shit we had to suffer: Beth...the Rams...putting down those Slinger assholes...it led us here because what we've got tonight was meant to be. I'm a big believer in fate, baby, even when it seems like the whole damned universe won't stop spitting in our faces.”
She nodded, looking a little unsure.
“You'll come around,” I said. “All the years we've got ahead are gonna make all the shit behind us into a distant memory. When you think about it one day with your awesome art trophies and our kids running around, it's gonna make everything we've got that much sweeter. Don't take my word for it, baby. Just keep on loving my crazy ass.”
She laughed, giving my chest an energetic slap. “Couldn't quit if I tried. I don't think art galleries and cities hand out trophies either.”
I laughed, eyeing her tits, feeling my hardness returning. “Baby, you know I love every bit of you – especially that sassy fucking mouth. But I love it even more when it's on mine, doing the next best thing to razzing shit up.”
Alice giggled. I was determined to silence that music with another kiss, but she turned away, teasing me with her legs rubbing on mine.
“I love you too, Stinger. Love you and your club. I don't care if we've got to wade through twice the crap – nothing's going to change that. Nothing.”
Finally. I kissed her hard, sinking my hips lower between her legs. I didn't need to hear what came outta her sweet lips to believe her. When we fused together, I found all the peace and reassurance I'd ever need for the rest of my life in her pink warm sweetness.
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Kisses,
Nicole Snow
More Erotic Romance by Nicole Snow on Amazon
KEPT WOMEN: TWO FERTILE SUBMISSIVE STORIES
SUBMISSIVE'S FOLLY (SEDUCED AND RAVAGED)
SUBMISSIVE'S EDUCATION
SUBMISSIVE'S HARD DISCOVERY
HER STRICT NEIGHBOR
SOLDIER'S STRICT ORDERS
COWBOY'S STRICT COMMANDS
RUSTLING UP A BRIDE: RANCHER'S PREGNANT CURVES
FIGHT FOR HER HEART
BIG BAD DARE: TATTOOS AND SUBMISSION
MERCILESS LOVE: A DARK ROMANCE
LOVE SCARS: BAD BOY'S BRIDE (Borrow on Kindle Unlimited!)
Outlaw Love/Prairie Devils MC Books
OUTLAW KIND OF LOVE
NOMAD KIND OF LOVE
SAVAGE KIND OF LOVE
WICKED KIND OF LOVE
SEXY SAMPLES: WICKED KIND OF LOVE
I: Fractured (Emma)
Did I have regrets?
Not until I saw him behind the glass and heard the chains rustling on his huge arms. For a man his size, handcuffs weren't enough.
The bastards put two hulking sets of medieval looking irons on his wrists, and it still looked like he'd break right through them if he flexed his arms. His legs were just as anchored, bound as his wrists, but not in any way that would really be able to contain this giant. If he'd wanted, one kick would've snapped the rusty links scraping the floor between his ankles.
But what would've been the point?
Tank was done running. He'd proven that in spades last week when he killed to protect me.
The guilt stung, and I lowered my eyes, focusing on my hands before his eyes could focus on me.
He'd reached the end of the line. Just like me.
Lust made us lovers, and murder made us more, bound together in a pact of blood I thought was only meant for Tank and his brothers.
Wrong? Hell yes. Regrets? No, no, fuck no.
Nothing but one. I signed myself to him in blood and sin, and I'd do it all over again just for one more crushing taste of his lips.
The sole thing I regretted was seeing those chains bulging around his rock hard muscle and the ratty orange jumpsuit one size too small for his skin.
We'd reached the end of the line, but at least we were here together. Now, there was nothing left to do but face justice. For him, it was the dingy prison and the solemn faced judges. My justice was all him, a heavily tattooed god who'd broken my world and pieced it back together again as he damn well pleased, harder than anything I'd imagined but oh-so-worth-it.
The thick glass between us felt like nothing. It was no match for the raging fire in his eyes. I looked up, trying not to see my own guilt inscribed on his gorgeous ink, the same massive arms he'd used to split a monster's skull open.
I was the reason he killed, the reason he was in here now. And if things were really as fucked up as they seemed, I was the reason he'd be stuck here until he was old and gray, too withered to ride a Harley.
How could I even begin to speak? It would've been better to rip out my heart out and sling it against the glass, savage beating proof that I owed him my life, my love, my soul?
If only it were so easy to pull it out! My heart throbbed so tight in my chest I thought the surging blood flow up my head would cause me to black out in front of him.
My words were obliterated, and they didn't start to return until he was fully seated. I swallowed hard. The bruises and scrapes on his face were still there, only halfway faded, brutal reminders of the damage he'd suffered, a sacrifice that said more than a thousand I love yous ever would.
Of course, he'd never flinch at physical pain. Dents and scratches never fazed him, and I wasn't sure mortal wounds did either. Hell, he was so fearless and hard headed he probably didn't care about the real punishment that was only beginning, the imprisonment away from everything he loved.
I wasn't so strong. The crappy orange jumpsuit wrapped around his muscles burned my heart a thousand times worse than my eyes, turned it to ashes when I wondered how much life he'd forfeit in a shoebox cell.
Jesus. Why, Tank? Why?
I shook my head. The answer came a second later, sparking in his eyes.
Because murder doesn't come cheap, and neither does love.
The cop near the door behind him stepped through it and continued to watch us through the little glass pane.
Hell didn't do anything to dampen the way I got lost in his eyes. When he stared at me, I froze, instantly forgetting all the scripted sorrows I'd been practicing to myself in the waiting room.
“Emma,” Tank said, breaking the tomb-like silence. “Why did you come?” He turned his wrist, showing off the eagle with the Devil's head in its talons inked on his forearm, two symbols that wrapped up his whole mad world.
Just tell him the truth. Perfect words aren't worth a damn. Honest ones are.
“I had to, Tank. I needed to thank you. He was unstable. He was going to hurt me if you hadn't –“
“They're listening,” he warned. “Prisoners got no right to privacy, babe. Especially guys who're part of a club the Feds are trying to brand domestic terrorists.”
The damned club! His whole life was folding, and still he stayed loyal, giving his brothers the same grim sacrifice he'd given me.
My whole mouth tasted bitter when I thought about it. If it weren't for the Prairie Devils MC, neither of us would be suffering like this right now. We wouldn't be here with this shitty glass between us instead of in each other's arms.
Then again, there was plenty of blame to go around. I couldn't pin it all on the club, however tempting.
If I hadn't gotten myself into a cash grab I didn't understand patching up their wounds, I wouldn't have met him. If I hadn't met him, he wouldn't be here, and a man's blood wouldn't be on both our hands – and the selfish fucking psycho who deserved everything Tank gave him wouldn't be having the last laugh from beyond the grave by bringing down my man and his brothers.
“That isn't going to happen. No one's going to take down the club.” I shook my head, desperate to shake the unpleasant thoughts. “The lawyers are working on it. They'll get your guys off the hook and get you home.”
Tank snorted and flashed me a smile. It wasn't a smart ass gesture, though. More like an old man marveling at a child's innocence.
“Blaze's lawyers have got some fancy tricks up their asses. Yeah, the club'll be fine, but nobody's gonna spring me free. Shit doesn't work like that, babe. I'm gonna be cooling my heels in this shithole a good long while. Thank fuck those tours in Afghanistan taught me all about patience.”
I took a good long look at his face. Killing hadn't changed a damned thing. Why would it? It wasn't like my kill was his first.
He was beautiful, through and through, a living, breathing contrast to the black heart within. My grandmother used to tell me I had big friends in high places when I was a kid, but her silly little saying never meant anything until I met Tank. And right now, it meant the whole world, my overly logical brain's attempt to justify this mess and prevent myself from breaking down into a weeping pile.
My guardian angel was behind that glass, paying for my mistakes.
“You didn't come to talk business, babe.” He leaned forward, close to the glass as he could get. “We both know why you're here. Listen, Emma, whatever may or may not have happened last week – don't ever feel a flap of guilt about it. Not for me, and certainly not for that motherfucker who tried to kill your sweet ass. What's done is done. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I did everything to keep you safe. Nobody but you and my brothers matters worth shit.”
Damn! The tear sliding down my cheek burned like lava.
It wasn't supposed to go like this. Maybe if he showed something besides the cool and collected intensity beaming out his eyes, it would've made this easier. I couldn't reconcile him accepting surrender with the fa
ct that it looked like he could get up, break his twig-like chains, bust through the glass, and walk right out of here.
Whatever, just as long as he didn't warn me again. I wouldn't be able to take it. Not after he'd warned me about this life, trying to nudge me away from it, and far away from him.
Couldn't he see there was no going back? I was already tainted, in too deep. At this depth, a girl couldn't have those regrets, or else she'd drown.
I wasn't going to walk away, dammit, no matter how much he aimed those perfect honey eyes in my direction. He was paying the ultimate price for me, but I'd suffered for him too!
Pleasure made walking through pure hell a whole lot easier. I couldn't forget the months I'd spent heating up like a rocket in his presence, let alone the perfect nights when I traced those sexy tattoos with my fingers, my tongue, my everything.
“No, Tank, you listen! It's my turn to talk.” I reached up and tapped the glass. So cold against my palm. “We were going to have something new and wonderful before all this crap hit. I still want that, and I don't care one bit how long I have to wait. If it takes you ten years to come home – even twenty! – I'll be waiting. There's nobody else but you, and there never will be. Just thinking about another guy makes me want to throw up. Nobody'll ever fill your giant damned shoes. They can't.”
For a second, his eyes went bright, glowing with the same addictive fire I saw when we were alone together. Then it went out, and my heart dropped like a rock. He was determined to turn me away.
“I fucked up, Emma, and I'm not talking about the reason I'm in here. I fucked myself when I decided to go after you. Trapped your heart when I should've set it free. Should've stuck to my guns. Should've kept you away. Should've had the Prez turn you right out of the fucking clubhouse and found a girl half as beautiful and smart to play doctor...”
“Shut up!” I was shaking now, losing more tears in hot, painful streams. “You can't regret this! I have mine, but they're all about the time we've wasted. If we weren't too stupid, too slow, playing games on both sides, we would've had more to remember. But I don't care how much or how little there is. Everything I've had with you, I'm holding onto. I'm not going to let it go just because someone tells me to – even if it's you.”