FILLED: Berserkers MC

by Sophia Gray

  And that was all I needed. I jerked her against me, startling a cry from her right before I swallowed it by placing my mouth over hers. I kissed her as though I was drinking from her, parting her lips to explore the cavity of her mouth, tasting her and imagining the other places I would taste her at the same time. She was putty in my arms, clutching at me, her hands almost clawing at my bare chest as though she needed more of me but wasn’t sure how to get it. She was almost frantic and I loved it.

  My hands went to her hips, jerking her to me so my almost exposed erection was right between her legs, only the thin fabrics of her dress and panties and my slacks preventing raw contact.

  I shuddered at the promise of that.

  No longer willing to wait for anything tonight, I let my hands move around her hips to cup the sweet swells of her ass. She moaned into my mouth as I squeezed her butt, then lifted her. Automatically, her legs opened and she wrapped them around my middle so her skirt had lifted up, leaving only panties between me and what I desired so eagerly tonight.

  She held tightly to my shoulders, her short nails just barely digging into the skin there, clutching at me as I carried her from the living room to the back bedroom. She was so engrossed in me that she didn’t see the king-sized bed with the wine-red satin sheets or the black duvet. Not until I broke the kiss and threw her down onto it.

  She looked up at me in surprise, her eyes hazy with lust, and licked her lips. I growled as I watched that small pink tongue slip out to moisten her lips and briefly I considered putting my cock between those wet lips so I could feel her tongue sliding against my shaft.

  But I was too wound up for that and I didn’t want to spill myself into her mouth. I had other places in mind for that.

  “I want that dress off,” I told her gruffly, about to jerk down my pants to finally free myself. But I paused when she slowly sat up, one thin strap slipping down over her shoulder, leaving it bare and tan and smooth, skittered by more soft freckles.

  She looked away from me, shy once again, and with trembling fingers began to undo the front of her dress. I frowned, pausing for just a second. Long enough to think that was odd, but then she popped the first two buttons, her ample cleavage bursting forth, and I forgot what it was I thought was strange in the first place.

  Deciding she was taking entirely too long, I jerked the front of her dress open, popping several buttons and making her gasp. Then I pulled her up off the bed just long enough so I could jerk the dress off of her, showing that her bra was white and lacy and matched her low-cut panties. They even had tiny satin bows on them and I almost laughed.

  Definitely not the kind of girl I usually took home.

  I popped the clasp of her bra with one hand as the other snaked down into her panties. She gasped, her skin covered in a delicate arrangement of freckles that was almost artful and deliberately placed across her body. I grinned at her and yanked away her bra. Her hands went to cover her tits, which were large and heavy, but still perky enough that I wanted to watch them bounce. My hand left her panties so I could grab her wrists, forcing her arms away so she was open to me again.

  “No,” was all I said, then I pushed her back down onto the bed.

  Her tits bounced animatedly, her rosy pink nipples already crinkled and hard. She let out a little cry of surprise, but I didn’t give her time to think or recover before my hands were back in her panties. I explored only enough to confirm that she was slick with her own need, then ripped them from her body.

  She stared at me in surprise as the fabric tore, but she didn’t complain. Instead, she just groaned what sounded like my name.

  “I’m hungry to taste you, Madeline,” I told her as I lifted her legs, hooking them so the knees were bent and slid over my shoulders. My hands gripping at her smooth thighs, her breathing rapid, I dipped my head lower, and when my tongue slid across her, she jerked up towards me and cried out what I knew was my name.

  “Nikolai!”

  After that, she was a writhing mess beneath me. I tasted her—sweet and tangy and delicious—devouring her lips and even sliding my tongue into her opening, which was so tight, like she’d never even had anything in there before. It was wonderful.

  After a few minutes of her crying and whimpering and begging, undulating beneath my ministrations, my mouth focused her clit. I sucked at it and rolled it around my tongue while I slipped a single thick finger inside her. She tensed at the intrusion at first, but as I continued to fondle and suck at her, she relaxed quickly and continued her moans of pleasure.

  God, she was tight, and for a moment I worried that my significant size would hurt her. Deciding to open her a little wider first, I added a second finger. Again, she tensed, but she relaxed almost immediately as I sucked at her. I must have kept my face between her legs for ten or fifteen minutes, simply devouring her quivering pussy. I’d added three of my thick fingers by this time, curling them and uncurling them inside her, making her wanton with lust. I made her come once and took a moment to indulge in that release while letting her recover.

  When she was still coming down off her high, I removed my mouth and my fingers. She whimpered at the loss, calling for me. She didn’t even sound like she knew what she was asking for, but it didn’t matter. I knew what she wanted.

  I stood and jerked my pants down, letting my aching, dripping erection spring free finally. The sound of the fabric hitting the floor must have caught her attention, because her eyes snapped open and focused first on my face, then lower to my erect cock. She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes wide, but she didn’t protest when I settled between her legs, this time our hips lining up.

  She shuddered as I slid my cock along her folds, moistening it before positioning myself at her opening. There was a moment where I could have sworn there was fear in her eyes. It was enough to make me pause.

  “You can tell me to stop,” I said to her huskily, though my body was screaming to just drive into her until we were both lost in oblivion. Still, I may have been the kind of man to indulge in the pleasures of women, taking what I wanted when I wanted it, but I never wanted something from a woman who didn’t want it, too.

  “No, please don’t stop,” she said, and that was enough.

  I pushed the bulbous head between her folds and popped inside of her, her pussy so tight that I groaned at having just that little bit in her. She had tensed again, so I gave her a moment to adjust. My hands massaged her thighs, her hips, her perfect tits. I rolled them around on my palms and pinched at the nipples until she was whimpering again, relaxed enough once more for me to add more of myself inside of her.

  It seemed to take an agonizing eternity before I was fully sheathed inside of her, but when I was, I could feel the very back of her. Her hands had found their way around my neck, clutching herself to me tightly. Her bare breasts pressed against my chest, feeling perfect and soft and making me want to do more things with those. Later. Because right now, my dick was inside of her, and that was almost more than I could handle.

  When I began my thrusts, short and insistent, she cried out every time, holding on to me tightly. But the problem with that was I couldn’t see much of her. And I really wanted to. Getting a hold of her wrists, I pulled her hands away from me and pinned them above her head, exposing her bare, perfect body to my hungry gaze.

  “I need to see you,” I told her simply, and before she could say one way or the other, the pace and depth of my thrusts increased.

  She threw her head back, her blonde locks splayed out across the bed as her mouth formed a perfect little ‘o’ that I decided, one day, I would slide myself into.

  She was making little mewling noises, incoherent begging, as I made her mine for the night. Her body was so tight and so much smaller than mine, perfect and better than anything I would have imagined on my own. Her breasts bounced and rolled, their movement erotic, sensual. I decided I wanted to try her from behind—but only if there was a mirror. Because I still wanted to see her. I wanted to see her breasts han
ging low, bouncing heavily as I pounded into her, and I wanted her to be able to see me, too.

  And as soon as that idea struck me, I was hooked on it. “Madeline,” I ground out, my voice so low and gravelly that it was barely even able to form words. “Look at me.” Her eyes snapped open and focused on me, but that wasn’t what I meant. “No, look at me. At where we’re joined. At where I claim you over and over again.”

  Her eyes widened, as though she’d never watched before as a man drove into her, and I took some pleasure in knowing we were doing something new together. Hesitant, her blush furious, her eyes darted between her bodies and when she caught sight of me plowing into her already swollen lips, she let out an “Oh!” of surprise.

  And that was it. All it took to finally push me over the edge. I bucked into her maybe a half a dozen more times, but I could already feel myself unraveling inside of her. I spilled myself, buried as deep as I could, hips pressed into hers, and when I was finally emptied, she was so full that some of it had to slip out.

  ***

  We were exhausted enough to take a break, but I wasn’t done with her. I hadn’t anticipated wanting more than a quick lay from her, but now that I’d had a taste, I found myself just wanting more. A lot more.

  So, I fed her by way of ordering Chinese takeout and gave her root beer—because it was nonalcoholic and I knew now that she was too much of a lightweight for something like wine—to wash it down with. We didn’t talk about anything important beyond a little bit about where she was from—a farm out in the country somewhere, growing up with her dad and her brother, her mother dead—which was less about getting to know each other as it was about letting my hand slip between her thighs again.

  Before we’d even really finished out food, I was all over her again. I was groping her ass and her breasts, manhandling her, maybe a little rougher than I should have been, but she never gave a word of protest. No, in fact all her noises were encouraging, begging even. She wanted everything I was giving her and more.

  This time I pushed her to the luxurious bathroom and into the shower, the hot water cascading our bodies and washing away the dried sweat from earlier. I took the careful time to wash her and even let her do the same to me—she was getting braver beneath my hands, going so far as to slide her own palm over my lengthening shaft to wash it. By the time we were done with the soap, I had her pushed up against the cool tile wall so I could slide into her from behind.

  She groaned and moaned and cried out, begging me to continue, lost in the feeling of me buried deep inside of her.

  Not that I could blame her. I wasn’t much better. I was grunting, making guttural sounds of pleasure as I pounded into her, my hands gripping her hips and ass so tightly that there might even be bruises tomorrow.

  Something told me she wouldn’t mind.

  By the time I was spent, we’d both come again and we were both so exhausted that I had no problem with her sliding up next to me in bed and falling asleep with her head against my chest. It wasn’t normally my thing and I mustered just enough energy to worry that it would cause undue attachment come morning, but then I drifted off anyway and indulged in a little closeness with the woman beside me.

  It wouldn’t last—no one wanted a contract killer as the romantic lead in their life—but for tonight, it would do.

  Chapter 5

  Madeline

  When I woke up the next morning, it took me a moment to realize where I was. But only a moment, because then I realized a warm body was pressed up against my backside, strong arms wrapped around my middle, a large hand settled precariously close to my most private parts. And then there was the soreness. An almost dull ache between my legs and a soreness in my thighs as though I’d just been doing lunges for half the day yesterday. And I was pretty sure I had bruises in a couple of different places.

  That all probably should have upset me, but as I recalled the events of the previous night, I couldn’t really let it.

  Nikolai had been an incredible lover.

  A part of me niggled, trying to make me feel guilty about what had happened. I’d gone to a bar and had a drink, let a stranger take me home, and then let him do all kinds of private, even dirty things to me.

  He put his mouth on me, I thought to myself, feeling a blush race across my bare flesh. It wasn’t that I didn’t know about these kinds of things, I just hadn’t…well, hadn’t done them before. I never would have thought that a guy would want to slide his tongue across my nether lips.

  But Nikolai had. And it had been amazing. All of it had been amazing.

  He was bigger than I’d been expecting, so much so I’d nearly begun to panic, but he was so careful, taking his time with my body until I adjusted to his considerable size. At least, I thought it was considerable. Surely not all men were as…well-endowed as Nikolai was.

  It doesn’t matter, I thought happily, snuggling up closer to him by wiggling my rear against his crotch where it was already nestled tightly. I’m here with him. I don’t need to know what other men look like.

  And that was the truth. Yes, I had done this all backwards. I should have taken the time to get to know Nikolai better first. Then we could have dated for a while and maybe he would have eventually asked me to marry him. After the wedding, that was when this night should have happened, and that did make me feel just a little bit guilty.

  My parents had instilled a very specific set of values in me, after all, and last night had gone against just about all of them. Sex was a special, private thing to be shared only with the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with. I knew I should have waited, but I’d never felt that sort of need for a man before, and even if we did it backwards, it could still work out all right, right?

  I had convinced myself of how this all would work out when I felt something stir, growing hard between the cheeks of my rear end. A blush blossomed across my cheeks, even after all we had done the night before. Twice. I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do, but despite my soreness, well, I wouldn’t mind having another amorous encounter with Nikolai’s manhood.

  He began to stir behind me, letting out a gruff grunt that whispered through my hair. His arm slung across my middle, his hand slipping over my body to come up and cup my breast. I groaned softly at the contact. My body responded by arching my back and pushing my rear farther into his crotch. By this time, he was definitely hard, just as he’d been the night before, and my breath caught at the thought that, perhaps, this would happen again.

  “Good morning,” he said in a low, husky voice.

  I smiled a little, looking over my shoulder at him. “Good morning. I…um, had a really good time last night,” I told him shyly, because I didn’t really know what you were supposed to do after. Especially in this situation. If we were married already, maybe it would be different, but we weren’t and this was a tentative area. There was so little we knew about each other and it would take time to forge memories and connections, but I was eager to start.

  He laughed a little at me; I could feel it rumbling through his chest and vibrating back through me. It was delicious.

  “Mm. Me, too. But I think we need some more practice.” He pressed himself against me and rubbed so he was sliding between my cheeks, though he hadn’t pushed into me again. “Don’t you?”

  Which was incredibly erotic, but I was a little saddened by his words. “Oh. I’m sorry about that. I…I mean, I was hoping you wouldn’t know that it was my first time, but I can learn whatever you prefer and—”

  I didn’t get any farther than that. Suddenly, Nikolai stopped rubbing and his hand released my breast. It took just a second more, and then he was throwing back the covers, pulling away from me.

  Confused, I rolled over and sat up so I could see him better. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, suddenly looking tense, maybe even angry.

  “Nikolai?” I asked, concerned. I reached for him, but when my hand brushed his bare, muscular shoulder, he flinched and shot up to a standing p
osition. My eyes trailed down his body of their own accord, admiring his tapered waist and his firm, muscled backside. I’d never thought I would like the way a man’s butt looked, but I did. I wanted to curl my hands around it and urge him into me.

  “Sorry,” he said curtly, suddenly. He began to pull on a pair of pants and I wondered what he was doing. Was he going somewhere?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling the covers up to my chest to cover myself, feeling the shift in the morning and knowing that, somehow, I’d done something wrong.

  He shook his head once, but didn’t look at me. “Nothing. I just can’t lie around in bed all day. I can’t afford to be lazy. I have work, a job, you know?”