ROUGHNECK: A DARK MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE

by Nikki Wild

  “Don’t ask for it unless you can take it.”

  “Fuck me like I’m bad.”

  Desire dripped off of him. The heat coming from his body was unreal.

  I ran my hands down his strapping arms, trying not to scratch into them. His muscles tightened as our hands met and our fingers intertwined.

  I was his to guide.

  Hale turned me away. The power from the thrust of his hips sent me over the frame of the bike. He held me by the elbows as he roughly grinded himself against me. Even though the thick denim, I could feel the throb of his jutting cock.

  His hands worked like magic. The aggression with which he went after me didn’t stop his fingers from nimbly loosening the strings on my scrub pants.

  He tugged them down to my ankles in a fluid motion. I was overwhelmed with need. Part of me desperately wanted to face him so I could watch him work. The other part lay intrigued with the anticipation of the unknown. Everything in my DNA screamed for me not to turn my back on a predator. The thrill is what kept me still.

  How would he take me first?

  Hale shoved his hand down the backside of my panties. His strong fingers squeezed and probed at my ass. He took a handful of my hair with his free hand and yanked me toward him.

  My back arched and my slit ached for the touch. His fingers split in a “V” and teased at the edges.

  “Give it to me.”

  I tugged my hair free of his grasp and fell further over the motorcycle. If I tried, I’d be able to reach out and touch the blades of grass in front of me.

  Just as his fingers penetrated, he slapped his palm down on my ass.

  He didn’t hold anything back. I squirmed under his grasp as he worked me from behind like a piston. Hale’s rough hand covered my gushing pussy.

  “This is mine, Addy. Every inch of this little body is mine.”

  My knees slammed together as my ankles kicked apart. The only thing keeping them somewhat contained were the panties stretching between the two. He remained inside of me, teasing my clit with his thumb.

  “I… oh…,” my mind was blank. Or maybe it was full. Full of the pleasure and ecstasy he filled me with.

  Everything seemed to buzz when he moved.

  He dropped to a knee behind me and attacked with his mouth. The tip of his tongue landed a direct hit against my swelling clit. I rolled my hips, making my sensitive body dance over his face. He stayed in rhythm, catching me between his lips, then letting me slide free.

  His tongue darted inside. I pushed back on him, my clit bumping against his unshaven face. He held my hips in place and massaged from the inside with his tongue while I grinded myself into his chin.

  My body shook and shimmied under the power of the orgasm. Hale stayed behind me and let the pleasure roll through to the tips of my toes.

  He held my legs tight to his chest and placed a light bite on my butt cheek as I finished. It was a subtle reminder that he would still take what was his.

  Hale stood behind me, hooking the panties between my ankles with the toe of his boot. He pulled them over my heels, flipped them in the air, and caught them.

  “You can ask me for these later,” he said, as he stuffed them into his pocket.

  He could have thrown them into the bushes for all I cared. I was still trying to recover from the number he’d just done on me.

  His muscled thighs rubbed against my taut, smooth hamstrings. The tip of his member tickled my bare lips.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked, letting it bounce tantalizingly between us.

  “Oh…”

  I still couldn’t form a coherent thought.

  Like an arrow to a target, his cock found its mark. It plunged deep into me, my body flexing around him.

  He shoved his hands under me to reach my perky breasts. He rubbed and fondled beneath the cover of my top. I struggled to pull it off, but with each authoritative stroke, he made me succumb to his movements and forget what I was doing.

  My eyes rolled as he pounded himself into me. Hale got the shirt the rest of the way over my head and, if bolstered by the complete view of my naked form, revved the energy to a higher level.

  Every part of me shook and jumped as he conquered my body. His powerful hips pushed the thick, hard member deep into me.

  “Take that dick, Adeline,” he barked.

  I was at his mercy and loving every second of it. Our clothes littered the ground around our feet as Hale Murphy fucked me wildly.

  I loved how my body reacted to the pressure he put on it. Each deep penetration made me accommodate him.

  His hands clamped down around my ass cheeks.

  Oh... oh… oh…

  He lifted me off the bike and pulled me to his chest, letting himself sink deep into me. I was pushed to my absolute limit.

  Effortlessly, Hale held me against him as he continued to fire at my wetness. Without losing the tempo, he planted me squarely on all fours.

  “I’m gonna come,” I squealed. “Finish with me baby. Finish inside.”

  “I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

  I clamped down on him as another burst of pleasure went through me. The release was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I tried to squeeze him into joining me, but he was too controlled. His cock pulsed and twitched but didn’t explode.

  “That’s it baby,” he whispered. “Finish on this cock.”

  I quivered and fell to my chest as he stayed firm inside. I saw stars when he confidently turned me on to my back.

  Between gasps for air, I told him I couldn’t handle him.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

  “It’s… I can’t…”

  “Yes you can,” he urged.

  His cock made all of my nerve endings tingle when he pushed it back inside. My sensitive folds trembled under the pressure. He was right. I wanted more. I craved it.

  Harder. Faster. Stronger.

  My legs balanced lightly on his shoulders while he supported himself with his hands. I opened myself to all that he could give.

  His body was art in motion. He knew when to move and how to do it. He playfully brought me to the edge and then teased away like he knew my body better than I did.

  When I tried to bring myself to him, he’d back off just enough to make me crazy. He was confident he could take me wherever he wanted, and then bring me back to wherever I needed.

  “Fill me,” I screamed. “Fuck me!”

  Hale grabbed me by the hips to leverage more power. I shrieked in ecstasy as he simultaneously pulled me to him and worked his hips. He hit deep inside, forcing a breathless plea from my mouth. I thought I’d pass out from the sheer intensity.

  This was it.

  “I love you!”

  It came spilling out as he pushed me past the brink.

  Shockwaves went through my entire being. Every part of me tightened and released.

  Hale pushed my knees toward the grass as he drilled me with one last powerful stroke. His fire shot deep into me. He twisted and writhed as he emptied his seed.

  “I love you,” he bellowed.

  We’d given each other everything. Total exhaustion. We had nothing left.

  He collapsed on to me in a spent heap. Our panting breaths were the only sounds disturbing the peaceful backdrop.

  “Is this what you imagined? Is it worth it?” he asked, once we finally found our voices.

  I thought about the last year. I thought about my family… the baby and my brother. About the trouble and the MC… the hard work and the triumph. I thought about my bad boy.

  I stared back into his deep blue eyes as he studied mine. So much to remember, yet so little needed to be said.

  I leaned close and let him have a soft kiss before the one simple word escaped my lips.

  “Yes.”

  * * *

  THE END, but don’t stop just yet! Turn the page because I’ve included a few special bonus novels just for my loyal Nikki Wild fans! If you haven’t caught up on
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  Copyright © 2016 by Nikki Wild

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  Prologue

  Of course I’d be running late for the most important banquet of the fucking month.

  I scrambled to check myself in the mirror. The makeup was a thinly veiled hack-job, and my hair was barely kept in line. Image was the name of the game, image and proper representation… but I knew that I didn’t have the time to prepare myself any better.

  At least my makeup covers the bases.

  It wasn’t going to win me any awards.

  But I’d leave a good enough impression.

  With a slice of toast between my teeth, I quickly darted down the stairs and hopped in my ancient piece of junk Honda. No time to be cute and civil now, and I was starving. I could touch up my makeup at a red light…of which I anticipated there would be several because, you know, I was running late, and why the fuck wouldn’t there be red lights all the way there.

  Twisting the keys in the ignition, I listened as the engine sputtered to life and ignored the obnoxious chime of the check engine light – the constant death knoll was ritual by now.

  Moments later, I was on the road, a cavalcade of excuses and apologies whirling through my head. I didn’t know what I was going to say to the others when I arrived.

  Forty-five minutes and a minimum of eight red lights later, I finally pulled to a halt in the parking garage, six floors above where I needed to be. I raced to the elevator, frantically punched the button, and rode it down the chasm towards the lobby. It was only halfway down that I realized I probably could have slipped down the stairs faster.

  The Marines’ banquet was already starting by now, probably. All eyes were going to be on me as soon as I walked in.

  Fantastic.

  As I stepped out into the lobby, evading eye contact with absolutely anybody, I marched straight through the doors and to my people. There they were, standing in procession around our portly, impatient leader as his furious gaze fell down upon me.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me…I need to speak with one tardy Clara Campbell.”

  Everyone’s gaze fell on me, and I felt small.

  “You’re late,” Arnold told me after pulling me aside. Even with his whispered tone, I could see the others judging me as they paraded around the room. “I thought I could count on you to never be late. Where’s my Clara? I don’t see her here, just this tired, tardy young lady.”

  “I’m sorry,” I replied truthfully. “It won’t happen again. Traffic was–”

  “Don’t let it happen again,” he cut me off.

  I nodded quietly, knowing that there would be no further discussion. All those half-hearted explanations in my head fell to the wayside, and I knew that he didn’t care to hear a single syllable.

  Arnold cast me one final, judgmental glance before turning to the others, who collectively pretended to be occupied with their own devices.

  “Very well then. Places, everybody!”

  I grabbed a drink tray.

  Oh. Wait. You thought I was going to be in the banquet, didn’t you?

  Nope.

  I‘m not the plucky romantic lead in a book, fawning over my billowing attired and preparing to take the arm of a sexy, rugged Marine. I wasn’t wearing a nice dress, although I did have a fetching black bow tie beneath my collar.

  I bitterly adjusted my bow tie and waistcoat.

  That’s right.

  I’m on the fucking serving staff.

  This was my place in life. My role was to work in the trenches while other people got the nice, glamorous lives. Being a banquet server meant working behind the scenes and making sure nobody saw what was really going on beneath our careful, manufactured smiles and in hidden corridors around the event rooms.

  Spreading crisp, flawless tablecloths over ancient, folding wooden tables…

  Stepping through concealed staff entrances into dank, filthy hallways, refilling ice pitchers and returning mountains of discarded plates…

  Lining up in an assembly line of servers around a massive kitchen – marked with years of use and old appliances – to whisk out huge black trays of carefully plated entrees…

  I saw the muck behind the charm.

  It was my job to make sure they never did.

  I’d never be the beautiful princess, or the intrepid reporter, or the esteemed socialite. I was just Clara – a working-class server, part of a freelance banquet and bartending crew that rounded out local hotels, sports games, and catered events. Being anything more than that just wasn’t the world that was in front of me.

  Or so I thought.

  1

  “That’s right, love. Just like that. Make my throbbing knob swell with pride.”


  My strong fingers threaded deeper through her curly hair. Her full, rounded lips hungrily bobbed up and down on my rigid scepter. Of course, she couldn’t take it all in, even with her professed lack of a gag reflex – which we both knew by now had been a complete lie.

  They never could.

  It occurred to me, as I forced her to suck me down deeper, that I didn’t quite remember her name. She was just some quick draw from the club, a pretty face that went red with pleasure the moment she caught my rich accent. I knew she couldn’t remember my name, either, but she was going to ask for it again by the end.

  They always did.

  Even if the English thing didn’t drop their knickers, the ex-military angle usually pried even the most resilient ankles apart.

  The combination?

  Killer.

  It just so happened that I was also going to be the predominant heir to the esteemed Carlyle Fortune. Fortunately, I hadn’t needed to lean on that one to drop a pair of slickened panties just yet, but it always helped speed along the process.

  “Oh baby, come for me,” she moaned, withdrawing my cock to lap away at the underside. She ran her tongue along it, cradling my huge balls with one hand and stroking me valiantly with the other. “Come in my mouth, babe. I know you want to.”

  “Wrong.”

  She looked up at me, confused.

  “When I cum… it’ll be in that trembling pussy of yours.”

  I flipped her backwards on the bed, climbing atop her body. She shifted around on her back to get comfortable, and I slid her ankles apart with my own. Within seconds, a condom was torn free from its wrapper in my teeth, and I slid the snug sheath smugly over my pulsing cock.