by Addison Jane
“I should have done something,” Shotgun answered, moving forward and pinning me there, closing his eyes as he tilted his face up into the spray of water. Holding it there for a second before he flicked his head, shaking off the water and taking a breath.
“You didn’t know,” I tried to reassure him, blocking out the cold and reaching for his chest.
A deep growl in his throat told me to stop.
“I should have known!” he roared, making me jump for a second before he shook his head, droplets of water flying from the long black hair that lined the center of his head. “It’s my job to know. It’s my job to protect the people around me. And I failed her. I failed my fucking child’s mother. I have to tell him that I didn’t do my job.”
My heart hurt.
It wasn’t his fault.
He couldn’t know everything. He couldn’t see everything.
But in his mind, he had failed, and now he was spiraling. He needed to find his footing again, allow his family to step in, to surround him, to help him steady the ground that seemed so fucking shaky.
“Your son is going to see how strong his father is, and he’s going to know you would have done everything humanly possible to protect his mother,” I murmured, my body shuddering from the cold. “He’s going to love you, anyway.”
His breathing was heavy, his shoulders visibly rising and falling, and I knew it was because in his own head, he was fighting my words, but in his gut, he knew they were true.
He cleared his throat.
I wanted to touch him, to run my hands over him. There was nothing like feeling his heart racing beneath my fingertips, matching the time to my own, trying to figure out who was more turned on or more excited. But that wasn’t what he needed right now, and it was more important that he got that.
It wasn’t very often he got like this. Sure, Shotgun liked to have control in the bedroom. And I like to push those boundaries because it made it far more fun. But there were times where he needed me just to give in to him, to let him find his balance again.
“Hands up above your head.”
I eased my hands back, clasping them together before lifting them over my head and pressing my body hard against the cold tile wall. The second I was stretched out in front of him, he took advantage, taking my breasts in handfuls and directing the right one into his mouth. My thighs clenched, my pussy instantly beginning to throb as his tongue flicked at my nipple.
He switched, moving to the other side. I tilted my head back, squeezing my eyes shut while my mouth hung wide open, already fighting for each breath. “Fuck,” I cursed when my nipple finally popped from his mouth, and he stepped back, allowing the cold spray of water to hit the hot little bud. The sensation making my clit pulse hard like it was screaming for attention.
When I didn’t get any for a few moments, I opened my eyes and dropped my gaze.
He was watching me.
His hand on his cock, squeezing and pulling long, hard strokes.
“Bet you want to come already, don’t you?” he rasped, drawing me from my entrancement. He stepped in slightly, his fingertips brushing my hip as he reached past to turn off the water. The spray shut off instantly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he pressed his hands to the tiles on either side of me and leaned in. “Put it in your mouth.”
With his face an inch from mine, I slowly drew my arms down, holding eye contact as I reached out and wrapped my fingers on one hand around this long, thick cock. “Mm,” I hummed, fighting the urge to direct it between my legs and beg him to fill me.
Control.
Give him control.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, squeezing it tightly at the base as I moved to a squatting position. My legs open and apart—purposefully. I placed my free hand on the side of his lower stomach for balance before I used my tongue to circle the tip first. My breathing caught when his abdominal muscles tightened beneath my hand, twitching again when I eagerly leaned back in and circled the tip of his cock for a second time.
“Avery…” he growled, the rumble in his voice so deep and gravely that a rush of goosebumps washed over my entire body at the warning.
The brat in me was desperate to do it again, knowing the level of pleasure his punishments brought me—but the last thing Shotgun needed right now was me fucking with him and pushing him to places that I wasn’t sure he would cope with being right now.
Maybe this was why neither of us ever sought out anyone else because we knew the other understood what we wanted, what we needed.
The way we fucked was different.
There were some dom and sub elements to it—though neither of us was looking to label it that way—that I wasn’t sure we even expected when we started fucking. It was something we’d learned together, something that had come naturally between us outside the bedroom with him being the president and me being the club whore, who pushed his patience and rules to doing the same when we fucked.
Sucking his cock into my mouth finally, he cursed.
“Fuck, Avery,” he hissed through his teeth as I drew back before sucking it deep again, pausing for a few seconds to fight the urge to gag. “Yes. Good girl.”
It spurred me on, taking his length as deep as I could go for as long as possible. Licking, sucking, tasting as he gently pushed his hips forward, forcing it a little deeper, pushing me a little further than I would usually push myself.
This was one of my favorite things about Shotgun. It was like he knew my body. How far I could go but wouldn’t without going with him, and I trusted him to take me there.
He suddenly stepped back, leaving me gasping and my legs going slightly numb. He offered his hand, and I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet, catching me around the waist when my legs wobbled slightly. His touch was something I didn’t ever want to imagine being without.
But you need to be prepared to lose.
It was demanding, but at the same time, the hard harshness that swirled around him made me suddenly feel so bare.
His lips brushed my neck as he began to walk me backward, through the bathroom door, and into the bedroom.
Both of us were dripping wet, leaving water dripping across the carpet until my knees touched the bed, “Please,” I pleaded—just barely because I was so fucking turned on—his mouth hovering above mine as he held me in place.
Throwing me off balance and sending me tumbling backward into the soft pillowy duvet, Shotgun stood over me, watching on with a smirk, his eyes caressing my body and curves.
My instant reaction was to cover myself, but he launched forward and caught my hands before they could reach for my breasts. Cupping my wrists in one of his large hands, he leaned over me and pressed them to the table above my head. I twisted them, testing the strength of his hold, but I couldn’t escape. He held me tightly enough to restrict any movement but not so tight that it hurt.
His eyes sparkled. “Love fucking seeing you like this, but there’s something missing.” He let me go and sauntered back into the bathroom for a brief second. I watched cautiously as his muscles clenched tightly when he moved, his tattoos on proud display. I was so mesmerized that I didn’t notice he was holding something in his hand, running the thick brown material through his fist.
His belt.
My eyes widened as I watched him twirl it around before settling himself back in between my legs, his hard cock standing at attention.
“Shotgun…” I whispered, unsure of exactly what to think of this new addition.
“You ready for this?” he asked, wrapping the belt around his hand and then unwinding it again.
I wiggled, digging myself deeper into the cloudlike duvet, not because it made me nervous, though, but because I found myself becoming more excited, my pussy so wet I could actually feel it on my thighs. I nodded. “Yes.”
His eyes burned with appreciation. “Give me your hands,” he ordered.
Slowly I held my hands out in front of me, surrendering myself to him, trusting him.
He wrapped the belt around my wrists as tightly as was still comfortable and did up the buckle. Then he moved around the side of the bed, tugging it hard and making me shuffle up toward the headboard so he could wrap it around the wooden spandrels. He pulled it tight and gave it a sharp tug, making me gasp. A smirk touched his lips, and with his free hand, he grasped his cock, running up and down it a few times as he eyed my naked form.
My hips wiggled of their own accord, desperate to have his touch finally on me.
I frowned in annoyance, and he chuckled lightly. “Needy.”
I tugged again with my hands as he returned to the foot of the bed, running his tongue across his lips as he crawled toward me. The predatory look in his eyes had my breath catching. I jerked when he settled between my legs, and the head of his cock brushed just lightly against my clit. The first time it could have been accidental, but then as it continued over and over again driving me fucking crazy, I knew it was him torturing me.
I lifted my hips, grinding against him as he swiped up and down then dipped just inside me. It wasn’t enough to ease any of the tension I was feeling, so I growled in agitation.
“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning over me, his breath tickling my ear.
“Please,” I replied instantly, biting my lip to keep from moaning as he rewarded me instantly by sinking all the way inside me. I threw my head back, the fullness stealing my breath and making my back arch off the bed. It didn’t last long though, as he settled there, but instead of pulling out again, he moved his hips, pressing his cock in different directions, stretching me. “Dammit,” I cursed softly.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out and thrusting back in, harder this time. Once the momentum started, I knew it was going to be hard for him to stop. His teeth attacked my neck, one small bite after another he trailed them down to my collarbone.
I linked my fingers together, squeezing them tightly as his tongue found my nipple, swirling and flicking it as harsh breaths escaped his nose. Even as he rose off me, I held my hands in place, exposing my body to his lust-filled gaze as he grabbed my thighs in his hands and his hips pumped harder.
My back arched off the bed again as he drove deeper, not letting up, not being gentle for me. But I didn’t want gentle, I wanted him. I wanted him to feel like he had what he needed, that I was giving him what he needed.
His belt rubbed at my wrists but not painfully. With just enough bite to add a little whisp of pain to the pleasure, I could feel building to something amazing heating my body, electrifying it to a point where I thought actual sparks may start to fly around us. His eyes held mine. They were so intense. It was like he wanted to consume me, like he wanted to own me, and if that’s what he wanted, I would hand myself over to him time and time again.
“Don’t come yet,” he murmured, dipping his mouth to my ear and slowing down his thrusts.
There was that control.
My body was aching, twitching, dying for release, but he was going to fucking torture it out of me.
His strokes became longer. Deeper. Harder.
Driving me crazy.
Slowing down the building orgasm that I wanted so badly.
I chewed my lip but couldn’t stop the escape of the low moan that slipped from my lips. “Shotgun, please,” I groaned, trying to hold my body in place as the power of his thrusts escalated again, building harder and driving me into the bed.
A deep growl rumbled in his chest, and suddenly he was fucking gone, my body cold, his cock slipping from inside me.
He sat back, looking down at me. “Don’t you dare come,” he demanded, his hand reaching out, his thumb brushing over my sensitive clit.
My body jumped, and I dug my heels into the bed, my orgasm almost slapping me in the face before he withdrew again.
“Shotgun!” I screamed, wriggling and fighting, my breathing erratic. I wrapped my legs around his waist, anchoring myself to him and forcing him deeper. “Please!”
“Please what?”
“Please let me come,” I groaned out, fighting the burn that I knew I was never going to be able to stop in a few seconds.
“Come now,” he growled as his hand dipped between my legs and his thumb rubbed at my swollen clit just one more time.
“Shit,” I cried out as the world around me shattered into pieces. I felt like I was falling, but there was no use. I had nothing to grab hold of. My body exploded, and I screamed out his name as the waves of my orgasm rolled over and over. It was so intense, so fucking strong that I wondered whether they would ever stop.
“Fuck!” he cursed. “You’re squeezing the life out of me.” He pulled back suddenly, my pussy still twitching and clenching as he flipped me over onto my stomach, my face suddenly buried in the duvet, and my hands still pulled above my head.
He slipped in behind me, his body following the curve of mine as he slammed back inside me from behind, setting off a whole new sensation, an entire new feeling of pleasure washing over me. The new angle had me tossing my head back, his cock now pressing upward as he altered his stance and angle. His hands grabbed my ass in fistfuls, pulling my cheeks apart so he could drive deeper and deeper.
I screamed into the duvet, calling his name when I exploded again, this time, dragging him with me off the side of the cliff as my pussy spasmed tightly around his cock. “Good girl,” he groaned with each jerky thrust as he emptied himself. His body settling over mine, his hips still moving as he shifted my hair to the side and began pressing gentle kisses down my spine.
“Goddammit,” I mumbled breathlessly, turning my head to the side as he nuzzled his face into my neck. His body pressed against mine, his brow pulled together, and his arms shaking as he tried to hold himself up like he hadn’t just come so hard.
It really was perfect.
I didn’t want to move.
I could have laid there forever, the both of us simply lost in an orgasmic state like nothing else in life mattered.
Eventually, he reached up, undoing the belt around my wrists and releasing me from my captivity before turning me over onto my back. He fell to the bed beside me, and unconsciously I curled into his side, my arm falling over his chest and my head tucking into his shoulder.
He turned, kissing my forehead. “I could spend every day of the rest of my fucking life touching you, kissing you, making you come.”
The thought would usually make me panic, cause my heart to race. I could already hear the little voices in my head beginning their screaming, telling me to run. To get out before I got attached.
The thing was it was too late.
I was attached.
To this man who had done nothing but protect me, care for me, and show me a side of himself that I knew others didn’t get to see. He trusted me with his son at a time where he wasn’t sure if he was capable of trusting himself.
And I was starting to realize that I was falling.
Hard.
It was like there was a shift like a kaleidoscope moving.
Each color represented my emotions—the good, the bad, the ugly. And as my world changed and adjusted, the kaleidoscope twisted. Colors that were prominent before, like my fear of losing another person I loved, shrunk away and something brighter and more beautiful grew.
A pattern of perseverance, loyalty, and passion was breaking through, creating something so amazing and breathtaking. And I knew those fears, they were still there, and one day when my kaleidoscope shifted again. they would return, but I was learning to trust the process. Trust that I could control which patterns and colors shined brighter.
It would take practice.
And I was willing to put it in.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“That would be fucking amazing,” I agreed, surprising him a little, I think. “But I left your child with the new nanny, and I need to go see how he’s coping.”
I pecked him on the head and leaped off the bed before Shotgun had a chance to grab me.
“I’m sure the boy is fine.
You’ve seen the way he gets passed around downstairs before bed.” Shotgun laughed, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, I didn’t mean Gage, I meant the nanny,” I called back over my shoulder, snatching a towel and wrapping it around my body before making a dash for the door.
“Did you say the nanny is a he?”
SHOTGUN
My dark glasses hid the glare in my eyes as college students walked by me.
Some in awe.
Some intrigued.
Others just fucking petrified I was going to steal their fucking wallets.
I guess that was one of the amusing parts about being in the club. People thought we were these lowlife petty thieves who went around pickpocketing people’s spare change or stealing their 1998 Honda so we could trade it in for parts that might make us a couple hundred dollars. They think I have the fucking time for that shit?
Running the club means keeping my finger on the pulse of every fucking thing that brings income into the club, and there were a lot of fucking things. Legal businesses like Empire and Dynasty. Investments. Properties. And a couple of small side things that I would deny ever happened if I was under oath.
I saw him coming from a mile away. Tall, athletic, surrounded by girls who for some reason thought they had a fucking chance with him—the guy too polite to tell them he wasn’t interested.
Not even fucking slightly.
He’d slipped out a couple of days ago before I got to meet him, but he was meant to be moving into the clubhouse this afternoon, and I was about to have the final say on whether or not that I was going to happen. “Manny!” I called out, shoving away from my ride and folding my arms across my chest.
His head snapped up, his eyes instantly finding me.
The group around him whispered, tugging at his shirt and trying to pull him back as he squared his shoulders and made that first step toward me. Balls. He had fucking balls. At least that was something.
I didn’t want any fucking pussy looking after Gage.