by B. B. Hamel
“Fucking hungry for this dick?” he asked. “You want to suck my cock out here in the open?”
I dropped down to my knees. “I want to taste you,” I said.
“Good. I hope someone sees it. I want the world to watch you suck my fat cock. You look so fucking sexy.”
I pulled down his boxer briefs and grabbed the base of his big cock, slowly stroking him. “You like to watch me suck you off?” I asked him.
“My favorite fucking thing in the world is watching your pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
I slipped his cock into my mouth and began to suck him, teasing him with my tongue, looking up at him. He watched me slowly suck him, and I maintained eye contact. My pussy was soaking wet, and excitement ran through me as he stared at me sucking his thick cock. I began to stroke him with my free hand, moving my head, taking more and more of him into my mouth.
“Fuck, girl,” he grunted. “That mouth is fucking incredible. I’m so fucking hard.”
I kept sucking him like that, taking him farther and farther down my throat until his whole cock was in my mouth.
“Oh fuck,” he said. “Holy shit. I love feeling my cock down your fucking throat.”
I pulled back and began to suck him faster, harder. I wanted his taste, his thick cock, his groans and moans. I wanted him to feel as good as I did, wanted his cock harder than he thought possible.
He pressed my head down, the perfect amount of force, and began to thrust into my mouth. I could feel the breeze and hear the wind in the trees as he fucked my face, and that only drove me wild.
“God I love this pretty mouth,” he grunted, sliding his dick between my lips. “How’s that cunt? Fucking soaked through for me?”
I moaned slightly in response to his question, and that only made him press deeper into my throat. I pulled back, breathing deeply, jerking him with my spit, looking up at him. I felt fire in my veins, fire and desire running through me.
“Get up,” he commanded. I stood, my hand still on his cock.
He dragged me back toward his bike, leaving our pants behind. He sat me down on top of it, and I braced myself against the handlebars as he whipped my panties off, tossing them into the brush.
“You won’t need these anymore,” he said. “I don’t want you wearing panties anymore. You’re just ruining them anyway.”
“I can’t,” I said. “That’s so bad.”
He pressed his fingers deep inside me, pulling my hair. “You can and you will, because your husband is telling you to.”
I gasped, moaning softly. “Okay. Yes, I promise.”
He dropped down onto his knees in front of me and the bike and began to suck at my pussy. I moaned, amazed that he kept the bike upright while eating me. I loved the feeling of the leather underneath me, his strong hands holding my hips steady, and his tongue and mouth sucking my clit. If I wasn’t as soaked as possible before, I was in that moment.
I could barely think. There was only Ford sucking my pussy, licking my clit like an animal, ferocious and starving. He was unstoppable as he worked me, and it was driving me wild. I loved getting my pussy licked while I was sitting on a motorcycle; there was something about the power of the bike and the strength of Ford that really pushed me to the limit.
Desire flooded through me, filling my veins. His hands held me steady, his tongue sliding inside my pussy. “Fuck I love your taste,” he grunted. “I could eat this pussy all fucking day.”
“Shit Ford,” I said. “I can’t ever say no to you.”
“Damn right you can’t.”
He went back to eating me, his tongue sliding inside me and back out, rolling up toward my clit. He sucked and licked me, eating me fast and hard, his dirty gaze spreading over my body.
And then he stepped back. I watched him root around in his bike’s saddle bag before he came back out with a condom.
He pulled me off the bike and spun me, spreading my legs. My heart was hammering in my chest as I held onto his bike, my face against the seat.
I heard the foil tear. He rolled the condom along his length.
“Tell me you want my cock,” he said.
“I want it,” I gasped.
“Fucking beg for it.”
“Please, Ford,” I said, my desire heightening. “Please. Fuck my pussy. Please fuck me.”
I felt him grab my hips and slowly slip his cock deep inside me.
I gasped as he filled me. I was shocked all over again at how big he was and that I was even able to take him.
“Fuck, girl,” he grunted. “This pussy is so damn tight.”
He pressed himself deeper inside me, and I gripped the bike, holding myself steady. He began to push slowly in and out, his hand wrapped around my leg and rubbing my clit.
“Fuck, Ford,” I gasped. “Fuck me. Make me scream.”
He grunted and pulled my hair. I gasped and felt his lips up against my ear. “Careful what you ask for.”
I moaned as he began to fuck me harder, his thrusts deep and tough. “I want to fill you with my fucking cum,” he whispered in my ear. “I want to make you feel like you’ve never felt before. Grab on to my bike and hold tight, because I’m going to fuck your pussy until you can’t think.”
I moaned, my mouth open, loving his dirty talk. I held on to his bike, my ass up in the air, my face against the seat, as he began to fuck me harder, deeper.
“God I love this fucking tight cunt,” he said. “I want the whole damn state to hear you say my name.” He slapped my ass hard and I gasped.
“Ford,” I said, “keep fucking me.”
He worked me, thrusting hard, rough. He had no mercy for me as his cock pounded into me. I could barely contain myself, moaning with absolute, wild abandon. There were no thoughts in my mind aside from him and more, him and more. There was something about getting fucked bent over his motorcycle that drove me wild, especially getting fucked out in the open.
His rough fingers and hard cock continued to push into me, working my body, fucking me hard. I began to press back against him, going wild with excitement, feeling nothing but absolute pleasure running through me. The world was completely forgotten. There was only Ford and his cock and his bike.
“Come for me,” he said, slapping my ass. “I want you to come for me nice and hard. Get my fucking bike covered in your cum.”
I groaned, moaning loudly. He slapped my ass again, pulled my hair, whispering dirty words in my ear. All the while he fucked me rough, thrusting his thick cock deep between my legs, filling my pussy up to the brim.
And I knew I was close. I’d been close since the second he began to suck my clit. I could barely contain myself with him, barely keep myself in check. He had the ability to push my body to the limit, to push me past it and make me come harder than anything I’d ever felt.
And this was no different. I pushed my face into his leather seat, moaning his name over and over.
“I fucking worship his cunt,” he said. “Your perfect fucking tight pussy drives me crazy.”
“Ford, I’m so close. Please, I’m so close.”
“Come for me,” he said. “Come for me, wife.”
I bucked my hips back, rolling myself as he thrust into me, fucking me hard, fucking me harder. He was an animal like that, all lust and hard sex. I could feel the orgasm building in my core, knew I was so close, inches away.
And he continued to thrust into me, fucking me hard. I loved the slap of his hand against my bare ass, the sting of the open forest air, the feeling of his powerful bike.
It all drove me wild. My pussy was so wet, his cock just slid in and out, slick as hell. I threw my hair, wild with pleasure, moaning loud, begging him to keep fucking me.
And then it hit me like a train. The orgasm swept through me, dragging my mind away.
“Oh my god, Ford,” I said. “Oh fuck, oh I’m coming, oh, Ford, Ford, fuck me, Ford.”
“That’s right, come on my fat cock. Come for your fucking husband,” he said.
; And I did. I came hard, his cock filling my pussy up as I worked my hips, gripping the cold steel of his bike, feeling the leather under my face.
I was panting, sweating, buzzing from the orgasm as he continued to fuck me, working himself up.
“Keep going,” I begged. “I want you to come. Fill me up. Come in me, Ford.”
“Fuck, girl, I love hearing you say that,” he grunted. “God I want to fill you up, your tight pretty pussy.”
He worked me and I moved my hips back, working them, rolling them, helping him. I wanted him to come so badly, needed it almost as much as I’d needed my own orgasm.
His hands gripped my hips as he fucked me hard up against his bike, fucking me deep and rough. “God damn,” he grunted, groaning. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
I felt him stiffen, his thrusts getting more insistent, deeper, stiffer. I took his solid cock, bucking my hips back against him, as he came.
“Shit,” he said, slowing down and finally stopping. “Fuck, you’re fucking incredible.”
He pulled away from me and I turned around, pressing my body against his, kissing him hard.
I was buzzing like crazy, floating from the orgasm, out of my mind on pleasure and joy.
He wrapped his arms around me, holding me, kissing me back.
“I want to do that every fucking day, girl,” he grunted.
“Maybe not outside like this every time,” I said, laughing.
“Afraid someone saw?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“I just fucked Caralee’s tight fucking cunt,” he yelled, his voice echoing through the forest.
I slapped his arm, laughing. “Stop!”
“What? I’m not ashamed to announce it. I want the world to know how delicious you are.”
I smiled and pressed my face against his chest.
He held me like that. I didn’t want to dress, didn’t want to leave, but I knew we had to. His bike called to us.
Eventually we got our pants back on, climbed onto his motorcycle, and pulled back down the dirt road.
I clung to his chest as we sped along the highway together.
Chapter Thirty: Ford
Nothing was better for my head than fucking Caralee. There wasn’t anything in the world that could take the stress away like that woman’s pussy. I had no clue how or why, but she was fucking incredible, insatiable, wet and amazing.
We headed back toward the clubhouse. I figured that would be the safest place to be for a while after the shootout, and plus, I needed to touch base with Larkin. I had to see what was going on.
Because we may have been close to finishing things, but we still had some damn work to do.
I kept thinking about Caralee the whole ride back. I could feel her gripping my body on the bike, her hands on my chest as the wind whipped past. It was becoming more about just keeping her safe, more about helping someone I knew from my past.
Hell, it always had been. I had to admit to myself that it was more than just because I fucking wanted to help her.
I felt something for her. Felt something I didn’t think I’d ever feel. Maybe I had always felt it; maybe it was always there, even back when she was just the girl across the street, the girl I couldn’t help but watch, the girl I wanted to get to know but was too busy chasing sluts all through town to do so.
One taste of her and I was hooked. That was all it took, one taste, and I couldn’t get her out of my head.
Caralee, my claimed bride, my wife.
We sped through town and parked outside the Demon Nest. The clubhouse looked surprisingly empty, especially considering what had gone down earlier.
I got off the bike and pulled Caralee along behind me.
“I need to find Larkin,” I said to her.
“Okay,” she said. “I see Janine over there.”
I nodded and gave her a look. She smiled back and headed off to sit with Janine and Clutch at the bar.
I went over to the back and knocked on Larkin’s door.
“Go away,” he yelled.
“It’s Ford,” I said.
There was a short pause. “Come in.”
I pushed the door open. Larkin looked up at me. “We’re knee-deep in shit right now,” he said.
“What’s up?”
“Local police being assholes. They want a larger cut to ignore what happened earlier.”
“Assholes.”
“This is the sort of shit you deal with as the damn president,” he said. “What can I do for you, Ford?”
“I talked to Jetter earlier,” I said, sitting down.
He raised an eyebrow. “Did you now?”
“He called me, wanted to give me half a million for Caralee.”
Larkin laughed. “I can’t imagine Jetter has that kind of money.”
“Yeah, neither can I.”
“He probably was going to rip you off and sell the girl to the Snakes.”
“Obviously I said no.”
Larkin nodded. “Obviously.”
“One more thing, prez,” I said. “Something about these drugs is bothering me.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, why would the Snakes go through so much damn trouble just for a briefcase full of smack?”
Larkin shrugged. “Maybe it’s an honor issue. They don’t like getting ripped off.”
“Maybe. But they wouldn’t start a war over it.” I paused, frowning. “I want to see the stuff.”
Larkin jerked his head toward the corner of the room. “Be my fucking guest.”
I saw the briefcase sitting against the wall and grabbed it. I opened it up and looked at the drugs wrapped neatly in their plastic. “Just doesn’t make sense,” I said.
“Drugs. That’s all this is about.”
I pulled my knife from my belt and jabbed it down into the drugs. “Maybe,” I muttered.
“Careful,” Larkin said. “We might still need that shit.”
I rooted around in the heroin, using my knife to dig into the bricks. I narrowed my eyes as I felt something, something hard and small, like pebbles. I reached my fingers in there.
“What are you doing?” Larkin grumbled. “I said to be careful.”
I pulled my hand out and opened it.
Hidden in the powder were small, nearly clear rocks. They were cut perfectly and reflected the light.
Diamonds.
“Look,” I said, laughing. I held my hand up to Larkin.
“Well, I’ll be fucking damned,” he said. “Diamonds.”
“This wasn’t about drugs. This was about diamonds.” I laughed, shaking my head.
“Fuck,” he said. “Their supplier must have been passing them some diamonds hidden in the shit, and the Rebels didn’t even know it.”
“So when they tried to rip off the Snakes, they started some serious shit without realizing it.”
“The Snakes think Caralee stole diamonds from them, not just drugs.” Larkin shook his head. “This explains a lot.”
“And Jetter had no fucking clue that he probably had millions of dollars of diamonds in his possession.”
Larkin and I stared at each other as the truth slowly sank in. There were probably a bunch more diamonds hidden in the case, which meant there was a ton of money sitting in my lap.
I dropped my handful of diamonds back into the case and shut the lid.
“Put the case down, son,” Larkin growled.
I stared at him. “We have to give this back.”
“Fuck no,” he said. “That’s a lot of money to just give back to our rivals.”
“They’re not our rivals,” I said, “and we don’t need it. We’re the biggest, baddest gang in the state.”
“Exactly. We don’t return millions.”
“If we keep it, they’ll come at us. They won’t stop until we’re all dead or they’re all dead. We’ll destroy each other.”
“That’s for the council to decide,” he said. “Put the case down and keep your mouth shut.”
> I stared at him, a war slowly raging inside me. If I ran right now, I could probably get away. But I’d be running for the rest of my life. Caralee would be safe, but I’d be gone.
I promised her I wouldn’t run again.
But if I ran, I could save her, make things right.
I stood up, holding the case. Larkin was tensed, ready to spring, probably ready to gun me down.
I weighed my chances, stared him down. I could get out faster than he could shoot, I was sure of it.
But it was club over everything. Always had been, always would be. I was a Demon for the rest of my fucking life, and I’d be loyal until I died.
I couldn’t run out on Caralee, and I couldn’t run out on my club. Even if that would save everyone.
I put the case down on the chair.
Larkin relaxed. “I’ll voice your concerns to the council,” he said.
“Do that.”
“Get out.”
I nodded, turned, and left.
For a brief moment I had held the key to everything in my hands, the key to all this shit. I’d had millions of dollars worth of drugs and diamonds, and I chose to put them down.
Not for myself. If I chose for myself, I would have run and given the shit back just to clear Caralee’s name.
Instead, I chose loyalty to the club, but also loyalty to the promise I’d made her.
I wouldn’t run away, not from her, and not from my club.
Chapter Thirty-One: Caralee
“How’s married life?” Janine asked me.
Clutch laughed and drank his beer. I shrugged. “It’s fine,” I said. “Not real, though.”
“Real enough I bet,” Clutch said. “You guys been fuckin’ like rabbits?”
Janine smacked his arm. “Cut it out, you ape.”
“What? I’m just askin’.”
I shook my head. “No, of course not.”
“Of course not?” Janine asked. “Okay, whatever you say.”
“Not like Ford,” Clutch grumbled. “Not like him at all.”
“What do you mean?”
Janine gave Clutch a look. “I already told her.”
“You told her that Ford is a manwhore?” Clutch laughed. “Traitor.”
“She needed to know.”