by Paula Cox
“Can’t we just, I don’t know, fake it? I can scream. We can move the bed around… you know.” She gestures towards the still made bed.
“I’m a Gravedigger, Aimee. I don’t lie to my fucking men because it’s more convenient for me. We do this the right way, or I throw you back to the dogs, and you can handle them on your own.”
She closes her eyes for a second. I feel her chest caving in, taking deep, long breaths. I don’t blame her for thinking this over. I’m having second thoughts as well.
This isn’t just a fuck for me. This is me attaching myself to a girl who does nothing but hurt herself by being disobedient.
“Will you hurt me?” she asks, her voice growing quiet.
She doesn’t bother to meet my eyes again. But I cup my hand around her chin to force her head up. Her eyes flutter open in surprise.
“I will never hurt you unless you give me a reason to. Do I need to prove that to you?”
Aimee doesn’t answer. Instead, she closes her eyes again and wraps her hands around the white, thick comforter. I lean back down on her, holding myself up so I can watch her reaction to my hand resting on her knee, swirling around her kneecap. She lets out a small gasp and a giggle.
Of course, she’s ticklish.
My fingers travel up her leg, past her thigh, to the line of her silk panties, and then back down again. She tries to hide a sly smile, but it’s written all over her face how much she loves to be teased. Each time I repeat the motion, I knead her skin, pressing a bit harder until my entire hand wraps around her legs.
“Relax,” I whisper, “You’re too tense.”
I can feel the knots in her muscles in the space between her thighs and see the way her hips plant themselves into the mattress as if she’ll float away if she doesn’t hold on. I massage those areas, trying to win over her trust. With my hands moving up, so does the thin black mini-skirt until it bunches up just below her hips.
She eventually sits up, looking straight at me as I pull myself down the line of her body, towards where my hands just were. I replace the fingertips with a series of light, sweet kisses from her knee on up. Both her legs lift in towards herself.
“What are you doing to me?” she asks with an air of innocence.
“Warming you up,” I reply, a matter of factly. I place my lips on her panty line as I breathe hot air against the hint of her exposed skin. “Do you not like this?” I huff, taking my time with each word and breath.
She doesn’t answer; she moans.
It’s so faint that I would not have heard it if I weren’t so close to her stomach, where she clasps her hands around the hiked up skirt. While she was never easy to read, the writing was all over her body with the way it curved and scurried over the blankets.
Aimee wants this as much as I do.
“I’m done waiting for you to answer me,” I say, trying to hold back my excitement, but it comes off as too rough, and I’ve lost her again.
Aimee squeezes out from under my arms and scoots back toward the bed. She grabs the blanket, holding it around her bare legs as if it could protect her from me.
With nowhere left to go, I grab hold of her ankle. With a quick pull, I yank her back down, so that she straddles my legs, her thighs parted and open for me. I fall on top of her, this time pinning her in place. She can’t run for me this time, no matter how good she thinks she is at it. My job as an enforcer has turned me into a hunter, primed for a situation like this where I need all my strength to hold down my prey until submission.
“You move again, and I’ll tie you down,” I warn.
I would love to see that body lain out before me—bound and waiting. But I give her a chance to make it up to me. I pull her hands towards me, kissing at the outside of her hand like some black knight. It cools her down, bringing her back from her panic. Slowly, I unfurl her fingers, placing one in my mouth. Sucking lightly, I spin my tongue around the tip of her index finger before moving on to the next digit. She coos again, unsure of what I am doing to her.
With her last finger done, I take her hand again and place them between her thighs on top of her underwear. The silky, dark blue fabric glows in the soft lamplight before I peel it down the length of her legs. Her hand sits on the top of her clit, waiting for instruction. My own hand rests on hers as I begin to use her own fingers to circle around the folds of her shaved pussy.
I can feel the moisture building. She goes from dry to damp in mere seconds at her own touch, but she still lets me take the lead. I move her fingers counter-clockwise around the thin skin of her clit until it opens for me like a flower blossoming.
“Keep going,” I whisper in her ear.
I move down towards her neck, kissing and sucking at her bare skin. Lilac again. Her whole body is a garden for me to rake.
When I reach the top of her tank top, I use my teeth to pull the wide neckline down until it reaches her bra. That too is hooked in my mouth until it fits neatly under the curve of her breasts. I waste no time working her tits with my hands, rubbing and kneading at the smooth bare skin as she continues to play herself. I change up between kisses and bites as I follow the circles around her chest.
When I make it up towards her nipple, she winces and murmurs, “Please… no… Breaker!”
I go back, even harder, throwing caution to the wind. There is no secret now that I want her and that she is slowly falling for me. I rub my rough skin against the tips of her breasts, caressing the brown nipples with my tongue until they are tight and ready. Her skin turns to goosebumps under me, and I feel her shake and sigh in pleasure.
Her own hands rise unexpectedly to the seam of my jeans as her breathing increases. Her long fingers play with the fabric. She’s too distracted by me taking the lead to really focus on the job. The hand on hers moves faster, spinning around her special nub with only one objective in mind; I want to watch her come.
I pull back and look her directly in the eyes. “You told me you didn’t want this. Are you so sure now?”
I don’t wait for an answer. I fall down to her bare pussy, moving her hand out of the way with a swat. Her hips arch up to meet my lips, inviting me into her. I go deep, exploring her wet, sticky cave, licking upwards until I again find her clit. My fingers fall back inside her cunt and go to work.
Aimee’s close to coming. I can feel the heat rising on her skin. Her cheeks flush pink, and she holds on to her breasts and chest.
Urging her, I whisper warm words around her pussy, “Come, Aimee. You know you want to just let go…” I don’t even finish before I taste the change—the rush of her fluids melts around my face, and I can’t hide just how much I want to smother myself in her orgasm.
Her whole body tenses for nearly a minute. Her hips, still raised in the air, fall back down onto the bed as she tries to get some rest.
But I’m not done with her.
It wasn’t enough for her to come. To claim her, I need to get the deed done on my end as well.
I run my hand down her side as she looks off to the side of the room, a smile playing on her face. As she begins to point something out, I stop her, flipping her onto her back. She falls on her hands and knees before me, perfectly positioned so that I get the backend view of her soaking wet pussy.
My cock is already up to the challenge. It pulsates with need as I pull down my jeans and underwear, so they bunch at my knees. She rocks back, anticipating me entering her. As I get back on my knees, I let her rub against me, feeling my hard cock against her soft body. She moans as she pulls herself down so that her head rests on the pillow with her hips still angled upwards.
Slowly, enjoying every second of this view, I guide my dick into her. It’s a tight fit. Unlike the rest of the girls I’ve been with, her pot isn’t stretched out or overused. It’s delicious how it rubs against the veins in my member. I can feel every velvety centimeter of her skin as it lies against me like a glove. I could rest here forever, but the wild part of me is ready to tear into her.
“Do
you want me to fuck you?” I ask Aimee, not caring what her answer is. I just want to say that word, fuck. There is no better word for what I am about to do to her while she waits for me on her elbows and knees.
To my surprise, she doesn’t fight back. For the first time since we’ve met, she says the two magical words all girls should say to a guy like me.
“Yes, please.”
The warm spot in my stomach begins to fill as I know it’s time. If I wait any longer, I won’t get to enjoy her. I smoothly begin to pull in and out of her, her round ass moving with each of my movements.
I can feel her body vibrate underneath me with each push. Her breasts dangle down just enough for me to grab them as I go deeper, plowing my cock into her. I use her body for balance while I speed up like an engine on the highway. My skin roars in pleasure, but she is the one doing the screaming.
While I take off, she cries out, calling my name into the blankets and bed, “Breaker! Fuck! Breaker!”
“Say it again!” I command her, lost in my own pleasure and pain. “Say my name!”
“Breaker!”
I feel myself falling apart, losing all sense of what is up and what is down. A fire burns along every inch of me until I can take it no more. I lower my head down to her shoulders, pulling her hair away from her ears.
With my lips against her skin, I say to her, “You’re mine now, Aimee. You’re my woman.”
She stutters, mumbling something in agreement, until she finally turns her head, her eyes wide open. “I’m yours, Breaker. I’m yours.”
My member fills and builds up with hot cum until the pressure can hold it no more. I pull myself out of her just in time to watch my white spunk pour onto her arched back as she moans loudly again.
When I’m finished, she falls to the bed, defeated and exhausted. I have made my claim, and there’s no denying it now.
She is, until I release her, mine.
Chapter Seven
Aimee
Oh, Christ… what the hell did I just do?
Okay. I know what I did and why I had to do it, but… seriously?
It’s been about an hour since we finished. I’ve been staring at the old electronic clock on the nightstand the entire time, counting down the minutes, during which neither of us has said much. Instead, we’ve just been laying here, our bare shoulders just touching and our hands occasionally brushing up against one another, communicating only in pants and the occasional grunt.
At one point, Breaker gets up, shakes his head, and strides over towards the bathroom. My eyes can’t help but follow his impressive body; the way those tight ass cheeks and muscular thighs sway side to side as he walks the length of the room. I know I shouldn’t want him as much as I do, but I can’t deny that the feelings I have are anything but innocent.
I usually don’t do this. I’m not the type of girl, even with the company I’ve kept, to jump into bed with a guy just because his body impresses me—or even because he can offer me some form of protection. I’ve had those kinds of offers before, and I’ve always managed to weasel my way out of them. No muss, no fuss.
But Breaker had somehow convinced me that it was my only option if I was going to remain safely under his care. I had to take it. I had to be that girl—a motorcycle slut.
And now, I’m his. That’s a loaded, and pretty ugly, word—his. I know the rules. I know how those girls are treated, abused, and passed around like appetizers at a party. So many of them are used by guys who couldn’t care less about their feelings or their bodies. They are just there for a quickie on demand.
Breaker has to know that I am not going to be that kind of girl that just spreads my legs when he calls. I mean, what we did tonight was good, but... Oh, who the hell am I kidding? It was amazing. My entire body feels like it is humming, like a song on repeat, and between my thighs, there’s this insatiable urgency for more.
Still, I can’t let him know that. I’d lose any bit of power I might have if I confess that I even remotely enjoyed that little roll in the hay. And I’m sure he noticed me screaming out in ecstasy, not just once, but twice, as I came harder than I ever have in my life—first, like an excited thunderclap, then like a rocket exploding in the night sky, both setting fire to my body. And I did the thing I hate the most in those moments; I called out his name. Now, as the afterglow was winding down, I realized just how awful an idea that had been.
“You want a drink?” Breaker asks as he turns off the bathroom’s light and fan. “I always need something to drink after I screw.”
I rub my tongue over my lips. They’re dry to the bone, but I haven’t even noticed. I’m suddenly alert to how sweaty I am and how red my skin is.
“Yeah. I could go for something. What you got to offer?” I croak back.
He pulls out his sack, the one that attaches to the bucket of his motorcycle. Wrapped in a few old t-shirts is a bottle of brown liquid, only about half way full. “It’s not the good stuff, but it’s whiskey. I’d get you water, but I wouldn’t drink out of the tap in a place like this.”
“Whiskey is fine.” I instantly regret it after I say it. My head is already spinning from the rum and tequila earlier. Adding whiskey to the mix felt even more dangerous, especially with all these thoughts running through my head about Breaker and his hands tracing up and down my breasts.
“Here ya go.” He hands me a paper cup from the bathroom filled a little more than halfway with the drink. Tapping the sides, he adds, “To us.”
“To us,” I mutter, not sure what that’s supposed to mean right now, but we both tip the drinks back and, in one throw, swallow all of it. The alcohol burns my throat. The leathery taste isn’t exactly my favorite, but it will do. I should grab a bottle of water on my way out, though.
Carefully, I pull myself out of bed; the sheet still wrapped around my body. Breaker watches as I grab the discarded clothes and quickly toss them on. When I’m done, he clears his throat awkwardly and stands in front of the door, effectively blocking my way out. “Uh, well, there’s one more thing we gotta do tonight to make this thing official.”
“Wait? What? I thought that all I had to do was sleep with you and we could call it a night.” Frustrated at the thought of having to do yet another thing for him and the club, I pull my hair up as tight as I can into a quick ponytail.
“We need to prove that we did the deed.”
“How in the hell do we do that?” I ask. A million horrible thoughts run through my head as I remember sneaking off to read my sister’s Scottish romance books where the girl is examined to be sure that the couple consummated their wedding night. No way was I giving any of them the satisfaction of something like that.
“Well,” Breaker says as he rubs the back of his neck; his arm lifting to show even more tattoos I’ve yet to notice. “The thing is that Henry’s been outside the door listening and Biggs is in the room next to us too. They both have to agree that we got the job done to make our thing real.”
I place my hand up in front of his face, stopping him from going on. “Wait a minute… when we were starting to have… well, I suggested that we just move the bed around and make some noises. That could have worked if all they were doing is listening!”
“It’s not enough. Biggs is kind of an expert at lie detecting. He can see through you. It’s his job to read other people, and he would’ve read it on your face and body. You might not get that now, but when you really see him at work and in action, you’ll know it. And Henry, well, he’d lie for me anyways, but I’m not getting him in hot water because we thought we could pull a fast one over on Biggs.”
I sigh, completely exasperated at this situation. Not only did I have to sleep with the beast, but I also have to prove to the others that it wasn’t an act! Jesus. I just can’t take any more of these rules and the pressure to stay in line. But I know I have no other choice. “What do I need to do to get this over with?”
“Just answer Biggs’s questions. Don’t be a smartass, spoiled brat, and you’l
l keep us both alive tonight. Pull the shit that got you here in the first place, and we’ll both end up dead.” Before I can say yes, he grabs my hand and opens the door.
Like he said, Henry is outside, leaning up against the brick wall. His head is dropped as he snores into his chest. Breaker clears his throat, but it doesn’t wake him up. It takes a kick to the shins to get him out of his dream.
“Jesus. Why the fuck did you do that? Do you know what time it is?” Flustered, Henry glances down at his watch. It’s nearly four o’clock in the morning. In just a few hours, this place will be up and at it again. There is work to do to get some more cash for the group.