Midnight Lust: A Midnight Riders Motorcycle Club Romance Part 2

by Olivia Thorne

  Deep.

  Hard.

  Powerful.

  I cried out with every thrust. It was incredible – I had never had these sensations before. Never been so completely filled up. Never had somebody so deep.

  God he was deep.

  I could feel him bottom out at the end of his stroke – a blunt, slightly painful pressure.

  It was a hot, sharp, erotic contrast to the sweet ecstasy of feeling his cock pressing against me, everywhere inside me, sending waves of pleasure from my toes to my thighs to my hips to my nipples to the very top of my head.

  He would vary it up – two, three, four shallow strokes, making me long to feel him all the way inside me again –

  Then UNH, a deep, savage thrust, filling me up all the way, making me scream.

  He pulled out most of the way, with his head and a couple of inches still inside me. Then he bucked his hips with short, smooth movements so that sweet, firm ridge of his crown massaged my g-spot over and over.

  As I felt the interior dam of pleasure swell inside me, I looked up and watched the rest of his cock – the many inches not inside me – move back and forth between my outspread thighs.

  God he was big.

  And thick.

  And beautiful.

  I started to come just looking at him moving in and out of me.

  “Oh God, I’m coming again, I’m – ”

  With one gigantic thrust, all those inches of hard flesh came crashing back into me, deep and thick and huge.

  “OH GOD OH GOD OH FUCK!” I screamed as the second wave of orgasm hit me, not a rollercoaster now but a freight train.

  My entire body went wild and uncontrollable. My legs trembled violently, my pussy spasmed, my abs fluttered. Light and liquid sweetness filled every limb. I clutched his broad, muscular back with my hands, trying to hang on for dear life.

  And still he kept thrusting. Hard, deep, fast, thick, huge.

  He wasn’t stopping.

  Neither was my orgasm.

  It kept building, rolling, swelling, getting higher, bigger, more powerful.

  I couldn’t handle it.

  “Stop – please – just – stop – just – ”

  He stopped, his cock all the way inside me, pressing deep and hard within me – but he stopped.

  I sensed that he was looking at me, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I was moaning and thrashing, feeling my pussy contracting around that firm, gorgeous pressure – the rock-hard core of my pulsing, wave-like orgasm.

  Still I kept coming, although the intensity slowly began to lessen. After about 30 seconds, the waves died away except for a few occasional spasms.

  Finally I came back to my body and consciousness. I just barely opened my eyes, like someone trapped in darkness who is seeing the sun for the first time in days.

  He was grinning down at me, those beautiful blue eyes looking deep into mine.

  “You alright?” he asked.

  “Uh huh,” I croaked, barely able to speak.

  “Can you keep going?”

  I did an internal check, seeing if I was too sensitive to go on. I was definitely on the cusp. I’d had the most delicious, fuck-my-brains-out sex of my entire life, and I was nearly exhausted from that last orgasm.

  “We can stop if you want,” he said. “Why don’t we let you rest – ”

  Suddenly his cock began to ease out of me.

  All that baseline pleasure just began to seep away, leaving me with a feeling of emptiness.

  It was like somebody taking all my Christmas presents away when I was a kid.

  “NO!” I cried out in spite of myself.

  He chuckled, but kept pulling out.

  “Noooooo,” I whined, then shuddered with one last bit of ecstasy as I felt his swollen head slide free of my lips.

  “Relax,” he growled in my ear. “Let’s just change it up for a little bit.”

  22

  He moved behind me, his chest to my back – his hard, gloriously muscular chest to my back – and began to kiss my neck.

  I sighed, closed my eyes, and just enjoyed the soft, teasing tickles on my skin.

  That, and the slick, hard, hot cock sliding wetly across my ass.

  He kept moving his hips very, very slowly, up and down, keeping himself hard by rubbing himself against me.

  I wasn’t complaining.

  He moved his mouth up to my ear and started nibbling the earlobe. My sighs became moans.

  His powerful arms wrapped around me, and he cupped my breasts in his giant hands. His rough fingers stroked me softly, toying with my nipples, pinching them every so often, sending electric jolts of pleasure straight down to my clit.

  I moaned and began to undulate my hips, pressing my ass harder against his cock as he slid wetly up and down against me.

  His teeth found my neck and bit me. Not too hard – but enough to hurt. At the same time he pinched my nipples. Three sharp points of pain, followed by the delicious contrast of more gentle kisses, more circular caresses around my aching nipples.

  I grunted, my noises guttural and thick.

  Suddenly he gripped my breasts. His cock pressed hard against my ass. His shaft’s surface was so hot and swollen I was surprised he wasn’t in agony.

  “I have to fuck you again,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t stand it – I have to be inside you.”

  I nodded, my eyes closed, my mind lost in a hypnotic haze.

  “Just… slow,” I whispered.

  “At first,” he agreed, a mischievous delight in his voice.

  23

  I was on my left side, my back still to his chest. He reached down and lifted up my right leg, pulled it up so my knee was in the air and my foot on the bed.

  Then he slowly eased his body down so that his mouth was level with my shoulder. I know that because he was still kissing me.

  I felt his fingers brush against my ass. I realized he was taking his shaft in hand, and positioning it for –

  Oh God.

  The tip of his cock slid across my lips.

  I had been wet before.

  Now I was soaked.

  He pressed his head against my pussy. There was a moment of resistance because of the angle, and then – with a liquid, soft pop! that was all sensation, no sound – my lips gave way and swallowed his head, almost drawing him in with a contraction of my muscles.

  Fuuuuuuck.

  He eased himself in two inches, pulled out one.

  Eased himself in two more inches, pulled out one.

  Did that over and over again, slowly wetting himself down with my lubrication, until he was filling me up again.

  This position – a guy’s chest to my back – usually didn’t do much for me. Because the guy has to come around from the opposite way and traverse a bit more distance, so to speak, you tend to lose several inches of penetration.

  With most of the guys I’d been with, there really weren’t several inches to spare.

  Not a problem with Jack.

  In the times I’d done this position in the past, I’d wound up feeling like I wasn’t getting much inside me.

  Again – not a problem with Jack.

  So not a problem.

  “Oh Jesus,” I moaned.

  He wasn’t filling me up as much as he had been last time, but he was still filling me up way more than any other guy had my entire life, in any position.

  Not only that, but his cock was caressing me in entirely new ways. New places deep inside me. Entirely new sensations.

  For one thing, I wasn’t used to getting my g-spot that stimulated unless somebody was using their fingers.

  In missionary, Jack had easily been doing it just with the thick, heavy ridge on the head of his cock.

  Now, the angle of his thrusts made sure every inch of his shaft was stimulating my spot.

  Constant, full, inch after inch, non-stop, one-two-three-four-start-all-over.

  Holy shit.

  My left hand grippe
d the sheets and my right hand reached around and gripped his leg as I screamed my fool head off in delight.

  “OH FUCK – WAIT – ”

  “No,” he growled in my ear.

  The pressure building up inside of me was crazy. It was literally making me feel insane.

  “I CAN’T – ”

  “Don’t say stop, don’t say stop, just keep fucking me,” he groaned as his cock kept slamming hard and thick inside me.

  The pressure – fuck, the pressure –

  “OH GOD – OH GOD, I’M GOING TO – ”

  “Come for me baby, come for me, come all over my cock – ”

  I screamed and my entire body tensed up like I’d been electrocuted with the most intensely pleasurable force in the universe. I could feel something contract inside me and suddenly my thighs were drenched, and his cock was so much wetter as it thrust inside me harder, deeper, faster. I could hear the wet sound of his flesh slamming into me so much louder, so much clearer, even over my screaming.

  I felt incredibly self-conscious – I’d never done that before. I’d heard about it, but – he seemed to like it, right?

  There was no time to be self-conscious for long, because suddenly he was clutching my breasts like a dying man and bellowing in my ear. “I’m going to come, I’m going to come – ”

  I was on birth control, but I wasn’t thinking of that when I gasped, “Come outside of me, pull out – ”

  He cursed, but he pulled his cock all the way out of me. Immediately my pleasure was cut off, and I felt like crying – until I saw his cock still thrusting up between my thighs. I could see the swollen pink head and several inches of his massive shaft pumping between my legs, as though he was trying to masturbate himself to climax against my pussy.

  I decided to help him out.

  I pressed my thighs together. Since they were soaked, my skin formed a perfectly slick, velvety, wet vise around that pink monster. I was shocked how scalding hot his skin was, and how massive and hard he felt between my legs as he thrust in and out between my thighs.

  Suddenly he was bellowing out behind me, and I felt the most incredible contraction, like a contained explosion under skin. The swollen, drum-tight head expanded even more, and suddenly jets of white cream spurted into the air high up onto my belly.

  Holy shit, it turned me on.

  I watched as loop after loop of cum jetted out of his cock, gradually declining in volume and force, until there were just tiny little dribbles easing out of that gorgeous head.

  “Oh God,” he groaned, and collapsed back on the bed behind me, his hands still on my breasts.

  I settled back against him. Now that the adrenaline and rush of the last thirty seconds was over, I felt this lovely, overwhelming peace and pleasure. Like a soft, warm, fuzzy blanket in my soul. Like everything was good and right and I was exactly where I was supposed to be, with an incredible man beside me.

  Who had fucked my ever-loving brains out.

  Speaking of which…

  I craned my neck and looked down at the white liquid pooled on my belly.

  “Wow… that was a lot,” I marveled. “Especially considering we did this last night, too…”

  “Unnhhhh…” was all he could manage at first. Then he nuzzled my hair and ear and kissed me on the neck as his hands traced gentle loops across my breasts.

  I turned my head far enough to the side, and he kissed me on the lips – long, hot, sticky, and slow.

  “Let me clean up,” I whispered, and got up from the bed.

  “Let me look at you first,” he commanded.

  I kneeled above him on the bed, his juices slowly sliding down my body.

  “Mmmm… I like that,” he chuckled, then looked in my eyes. “But next time I want to come inside you.”

  My heart fluttered when he said it.

  I do, too, I wanted to say.

  Instead I smirked and said, “We’ll see.”

  He laughed and smacked my ass as I got off the bed and made my way to the bathroom.

  24

  Jack

  Jesus, that was the best lay of my life.

  And it wasn’t just sex. If I’m going to be honest… there was a whole lot more there.

  Fiona was the most incredible woman I’d run across in a long time. Maybe forever.

  She was strong. She radiated that. You could feel it coming off her in waves.

  And she was sexy as fuck. Feminine. All woman – but with a spine of steel.

  She handled herself well back in the bar. No breaking down, no panicking. Calm, cool, collected. Grace under pressure.

  She wasn’t a shrinking violet. She’d wanted to be in on what had happened when I came back to the house and talked with Kade.

  She also wasn’t a fucking bleeding heart. She was fine with whatever the Santa Muerte gunman got. Didn’t bother her in the slightest.

  But she wasn’t bloodthirsty. She wasn’t frothing at the mouth for his death. If Sloane, my ex-wife, had been in the same situation as Fiona in the bar? She would’ve wanted to be holding the shotgun instead of Lou.

  If you slapped Sloane in a fight, you better watch out for the shiv about to get buried in your heart.

  Back in the day, I liked that. I liked having a badass biker chick who didn’t take shit off of anybody, and who was as hard and tough as any man in the crew.

  What I didn’t understand back then was the difference between strength and viciousness.

  Fiona had strength.

  Sloane was a fucking psychopath if you crossed her.

  When I had my change of heart, which culminated three years ago – when I’d seen what viciousness can do to my own soul and the soul of the club, and decided to choose strength instead – Sloane suddenly became a lot less appealing.

  Deeper truth?

  She became repulsive.

  She had all of my worst qualities from before, but none of the heart.

  She loved me, I knew that. She loved me fiercely.

  But I had changed.

  And she wasn’t willing to.

  She was a Rottweiler, a lioness, a cobra. There was no taking the venom out of her, because there was an endless supply.

  But she was out of my life now.

  And now there was Fiona.

  God… the sex had been incredible. The way she felt… the way she fucked me… the way she gave herself over to me… the way she exulted in me dominating her…

  Sex with Sloane was like 12 rounds in a boxing ring. Exhilarating, but it was a fucking contest. There was a winner and a loser, somebody came out on top, and both of you were probably going to be battered and bruised by the end of it.

  Fun once in awhile. Not every fucking time, though.

  With Fiona…

  It felt like I was a teenager again, discovering sex for the first time.

  Okay, yeah, with a few more moves than I had back then… but it was like it was new. Bright and shiny and new.

  What I loved about her was she had enough gumption to push back when she needed to – like when she told me to pull out (not fun in the moment, but mmm… she actually made it pretty hot). But she could roll with it, too, and hang on. Like when she squirted. Which was fucking hot. I knew she was on the edge, and I wanted to take her there, and she went. She went all the way.

  I figured Fiona would potentially go all the way in a lot of things.

  Not just sex. I mean life. She was the first woman I felt like I might be able to trust since Sloane.

  But unlike Sloane, I felt I could trust Fiona’s inherent goodness and internal compass to keep her away from sliding into the abyss.

  Not like Sloane.

  Not like Lou, who seemed to prefer the abyss.

  Shit.

  Lou.

  And just like that, all the magic of the last two hours evaporated, and real life reared its ugly head.

  25

  I padded out to the kitchen and found my phone.

  A shit-ton of texts from various guys in t
he MC, mostly one who hadn’t been there at the strip club, asking what the fuck was going on. A few level heads were like, Shut up and wait. There’ll be a meeting tomorrow for sure.

  Yeah.

  There sure as hell would be.

  And another body just might have to be disposed of afterwards.

  I was dead-set on making sure that if it was going to be anybody’s, the corpse would be Lou’s, not mine.

  One text from Kade.

  Call me.

  I dialed him up. He answered on the second ring.

  “Hey. What’s the word?”

  “Benjy’s in surgery right now.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How bad we talkin’?”

  “The bullets didn’t hit his heart or any arteries, and both his lungs are intact.”

  “Well that’s good.”

  “Yeah, but they had to open him up to stop some internal bleeding.”

  “Shit.” I frowned. “Wait – where are you?”

  “The ER.”

  “It’s only been two hours – how’d you get to the hospital so fast? What about the cops?”

  “Peters was at the crime scene. He let me go as long as I come in later this morning to give a statement.”

  Damn it.

  Dan Peters was the police chief. He had been on the payroll for twenty years before I took over – first as a rank and file, then sergeant, captain, and finally the head honcho. He and I hadn’t been on the best of terms during my tenure as president, largely because he wasn’t getting the big payoffs from back in the day when the Midnight Riders were running coke and heroin. On the plus side, he had a lot fewer dead bodies to overlook these days.

  But if he’d let Kade go, he was obviously expecting a return to A dollar for me, a favor for you.

  This could be tricky.

  “Alright, I’ll go in with you.”

  “You should talk to Lou first.”

  The unspoken second sentence was Get your stories straight. But with an unsecured line and the NSA tapping everybody’s phones these days, certain things are best left unsaid.

  “I hear you,” I said. “Let me go find Lou, and I’ll rendezvous with you later.”