by Jenika Snow
Steeling herself, she knew she had to up her game and make him grunt out from the pleasure. She needed to not only have him on the edge but hear his pleasure, as well. Butters ran her tongue over the flared edge, licked at his piercings, and then engulfed him. His flavor exploded in her mouth again, even more potent this time as she tasted pre-cum. Salty, sweet, with a faint taste of metal from his piercings nearly undid her right then. She groaned around him. Despite her earlier orgasms, her pussy was drenched, and her clit throbbed.
Butters sucked him hard and deep, and he gripped the back of her head and started thrusting into her mouth, skull fucking her.
“Hell yeah, baby,” he groaned.
She knew she had won this small battle, if only for a moment.
His whole body was strung taut, and she knew he was going to come very soon if she kept this up. His fingers tightened in her hair, but before she could taste him fully he pulled her head back. His breathing was haggard, and the look he gave her heated her entire body.
“On your back with your legs spread, Butters. It’s time that I claim that pussy of yours.” When she did what he said she watched his gaze dip between her spread thighs. “Damn, baby.” He ran a hand over his mouth, the sound of him rubbing over his stubble loud in the room. “I want to be inside of you so fucking bad.” He flicked his eyes to her, and a mask of composure covered his expression instantly. “Tell me you want my cock in you. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you.”
Damn, Mayhem has a dirty, commanding way with words that shouldn’t turn me on. They should piss me off, but all I can think about is being with him.
His words were like gasoline on a fire. She had never been with someone so incredibly compelling and forceful with his words. There had been a few times she’d been with a guy and he’d tried to be dominating, but it fell flat. Butters had always had some kind of control over her sexual situations, but having this biker take the reins, be the one that called the shots, made her tough exterior crumble.
It was like he knew exactly what to say to have her on the precipice of climax. In the next instant his hard body was blanketing hers. His mouth took hers in a searing kiss, and she wrapped her hands around his neck. He pulled back with a scowl on his face.
“I want your cock, want you to fuck me, Mayhem.”
“We do this my way, because I know you like that, Butters.” His words brooked no argument.
She nodded.
Yes, she so wanted to do it his way. He clasped her wrists in one of his hands and brought them above her head, binding her there, restraining her for his mercy. The headboard was made up of wooden slates, and she wrapped her fingers around them, doing what he wanted, even if he hadn’t actually said the words. A ghost of a smile flittered across his face, as if her act of submission pleased him.
Mayhem then moved his hands down her throat, skated his digits over her collarbones, and cupped her breasts. The heavy weight of his hands on her had her closing her eyes and moaning, arching up to his touch. Yes, that was what she needed. Butters needed to feel his callused hands scrape over her flesh, commanding her body like he knew exactly what would get her off.
He tweaked her nipples, massaged the mounds, and brought a flush of heat to her chest. His hands were rough, worn, and all she could think about was how powerful he was when using them, how dangerous that simple part of his body really was. A wave of lust slammed into her so hard it took her breath away. She was surprised at the intensity of desire that her thoughts caused.
The feel of his shaft straining against her cleft had the desire to rub against him rising to the surface, needing him to just thrust into her already. She was so done with this foreplay, because anymore it seemed like torture. But for some reason, she knew that if she was patient and obedient, he would bring her to a place she had never been before, make her feel this kind of possession that wasn’t wrong.
As she looked into his face she felt this tightness in her chest. His focus was on her breasts, but as if he felt her gaze on him he lifted his head and looked at her in the eye. Butters didn’t know what she was feeling at this moment, didn’t know if she liked it, but it was there, and she couldn’t stop it.
He leaned in close to her ear, his warm breath moving across the shell right before he whispered, “Are you ready for me, for this, for me?” He squeezed her breast hard enough she cried out. “Are you ready to have my monster cock thrusting inside of you?” He pinched her nipple.
“Yes. God, yes.”
He hummed in approval.
Butters didn’t know if he was trying to shock her, and although it might have worked, she was far too gone in her need to pay it much attention.
His mouth was still by her ear, his breathing ragged. The feel of him lightly pressing his dick between her thighs, not penetrating her, but teasing her all in the same breath, had her mouth opening and a small sound leaving her. She gripped the headboard tighter.
“You’re mine,” he said that phrase again, and as much as she wanted to know what in the hell that meant, she was too aroused to pay much attention to it. He thrust against her again, emphasizing his words. Another mewl escaped her. “No one else will have you, will touch you.”
She wanted him to touch her already. “Then fuck me, Mayhem,” she said with a slight twinge of desperation. She rose up, trying to kiss him, needing his mouth on hers. Fortunately, he leaned down and claimed her mouth with his. His tongue slipped into her mouth at the same time he reached between their bodies and placed the head of his cock at her pussy hole.
“I’m about to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit comfortably tomorrow,” he growled out the words. He pulled back enough to look in her eyes, and in one hard, intense, and commanding move he buried his cock all the way in her. Butters curled her toes, arched her back, and cried out at the burning and stretching feeling that consumed her.
He grunted. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, so wet and hot.” He started pulling out and thrusting back in, not giving her time to adjust to his huge size.
It was then, as she felt the slight chill and pressure of his piercings, that she realized he hadn’t put on a condom.
“Oh, God.”
“What, baby?” he said through clenched teeth, still thrusting into her, having her pleasure heighten all over again.
She’d been so inflamed with her desire she hadn’t used common sense and remembered protection. “A condom.” She gasped out when he slammed into her deep and hard.
“Fuck,” he said, but didn’t stop thrusting into her. His arms were on either side of her head, and she could see the way his biceps were flexing from the force it was taking him to hold himself above her. “I’ll stop and put one on, but I’m clean, and I’ll pull out.” He was shallowly thrusting into her, looking right into her eyes, and she knew she should have been smarter.
Instead she wrapped her arms around his waist, her heels at the small of his back. “I’m on the pill to regulate my period, and I’m clean.” It felt weird to be talking about this with him when he had his cock in her, and she should have told him to put one on, but dammit, she needed to have him keep moving in her.
He groaned again and renewed his pumping efforts.
Mayhem was like a wild man as he thrust into her, bringing her so close to the edge and then stopping right before she went over. Her hands ached from holding onto the headboard, but she’d keep them there because she knew Mayhem liked it.
Her pussy was so wet for him, and the sound of his skin slapping against hers reverberated in the room.
“So wet and tight.” He growled against her neck and picked up speed.
“Come for me, Butters, squeeze that pussy on my cock, milk the jizz from me.”
Soon she was falling over the edge into mindless, blissful completion. She cried out as another smaller orgasm wrought havoc on her body and mind. Just as the high started to slowly dwindle, she found herself flipped on her belly. She shouldn’t have wanted any more, but she couldn’t deny
that when it came to Mayhem she felt like she was addicted.
Palms flat on the mattress and legs spread wide, she waited for him to make his next move. Her pussy still convulsed from the after tremors of her orgasm. With her chest still on the mattress, her ass was high in the air for the taking, and she wanted him to take her from behind.
All she felt was the mindless pleasure of wanting more.
Butters closed her eyes when she felt his fingers skate over her slit and gather her cream right before thrusting them deep in her body. There was no tensing, no worries about what was going to happen next as he fucked her with the digits for only a few seconds. Finally he placed the tip of his dick at her pussy, held onto her waist, and thrust inside in one fluid motion.
The sheets were tightly fisted between her fingers, and he started thrusting in and out of her hard enough she started sliding up on the bed. Then he covered her back with his chest, placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her stationed, and kissed the back of her neck. He’d already ensured her pleasure above his by bringing her to climax numerous times and he still had yet to find his own release.
“You’re so responsive to my touch,” he seemed to purr in that gravelly, hard voice of his.
A shiver wracked her body. She didn’t answer, couldn’t. The sting of his hand coming into contact with her ass had her gasping, but then he smoothed his palm over the hurt, making the pleasure rise. He continued to push into her and pull back out.
Over and over again he pumped his cock into her pussy.
“Beg me for my cum.” His voice was thick, aroused.
She felt herself blush, not because he was being crude, but because she did want his cum.
“I’m so hard for you. Do you feel what you do to me?” He lifted off her back and pulled out so the tip was lodged in her pussy. He pushed back in hard enough a gasp left her. “You feel that? You feel how fucking hard I am, like damn steel?”
“Yes.” She wanted to tell him to do it, to beg him to end her misery. Maybe she spoke aloud because in the next second he was fucking her like a madman. Tears stung her eyes, but they were the good kind. This was like nothing she’d ever felt.
She squeezed her pussy around him.
“You’re tempting something very dangerous, baby.”
Maybe she was, but right now she didn’t even care.
The burn of pain and being stretched soon vanished and something far more pleasing and electrifying took its place. Each time he pushed into her that desire heightened. His groans were enough to have her nearing yet another orgasm, but it was his finger rubbing her clit that had her screaming out. She turned her head and closed her eyes, letting wave after wave of pleasure consume her.
One thrust, two pumps of his hips against hers, and on the third one he buried himself balls deep and cursed loudly. His language was crass and vile, but it reflected the strong emotions she was sure he felt at that moment. It seemed like a long time before he finally hunched over her, his big body warming her, suffocating her until she was gasping for breath.
When he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side, he surprised the hell out of her by placing a hand between her thighs, rubbing her pussy hole, and pushing his jizz that had started to come out of her back in her body. He rubbed the slick cum all over her pussy, labia, and even clit, as if marking her. He finally wrapped his body around hers, holding her tightly to him. She didn’t question the intimacy of it. No, she just closed her eyes and let the post-euphoric haze consume her. She could worry about what this meant, and what would really happen at the end of all of this, later.
Chapter Fourteen
Mayhem held the bag with the ten grand in his hand, but didn’t move out of his SUV. He’d left Butters at the club, ensuring she was protected just in case. Shit could get ugly real fast. He’d never dealt with the mafia before, but he was quickly realizing that when it came to Butters he’d do anything.
Yeah, he had it fucking bad for her, and he knew there was no going back. He realized, in just the short amount of time they’d been in each other’s company, that he wanted her, only her, and he didn’t want any other assholes to touch her. Fuck, he didn’t want any other bastards even looking at her. The very thought sent him into a jealous, possessive rage.
His cell rang, and he picked it up. It was a burner, so the only people that had it were ones he’d given the number to. He saw it was Fury calling.
“Yeah?” Mayhem looked at the restaurant again.
“You know if there is trouble, or we think shit is going down, we’re here.”
Mayhem breathed out and nodded despite the fact Fury couldn’t see him. Even after that whole talk about how Mayhem didn’t want the club involved, and how Fury said they’d be there if he needed them, it seemed none of that mattered. As Mayhem was getting ready to leave to the drop Fury, Dirty, Dealer, and Shorty were all standing by the SUV in the club’s parking lot, waiting to go with him. They’d even gotten Birdie, the prospect, to come along. Birdie was nearing his year as a prospect, and was Fury’s friend from back in the day. The prospect had been in the joint for the last ten years, and once he was out he’d hit up Fury, and wanted in on the club.
Of course Mayhem had tried to talk them out of it, been a fucking asshole even, because he didn’t want the club involved all like this. He wanted to just get this bullshit done and be with Butters. Because the truth was he wanted to talk to her about this week not ending, about her being his. He wanted her, and only her, and it had only taken this small amount of time to make the ice around his heart thaw.
“I know.”
“We always got your back, brother.”
“And I always got yours,” Mayhem said.
“If we hear anything fucked up, or you give us a signal, we’ll be busting in guns blazing.”
“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”
Mayhem heard the guys in the background start to talk about if things went down what they’d do.
“You never know with this gang. So be on alert.”
“Always,” Mayhem said. After he hung up he took a deep, steadying breath.
Monstello’s was just one of the many businesses owned by the Cardona crew. It was a front, for the most part, a place to clean their money.
Mayhem tightened his hold on the bag and got out of the vehicle. He wasn’t afraid of the mafia, but he was man enough that he was afraid of what the mafia would do to Butters.
He made his way toward the restaurant, opened the doors, and immediately saw two men dressed in black leaning against the pillars that separated the hostess desk from the dining area. Mayhem knew they were part of the Cardonas, could see the way they tensed, brought their hands to their sides where they were packing. Mayhem knew they’d shoot his ass if they thought he was a threat, but he wouldn’t be a threat if things went smoothly. If shit went down he’d hold his own.
The guys guarding the front smelled and looked like they’d been partying all day. Seeing their bloodshot eyes and sweaty faces, Mayhem could tell they were three sheets to the wind.
He didn’t have to say who he was or why he was there, because one of the darkly dressed men motioned him over. After he was patted down—and he could have given lessons to these assholes on how to really check for weapons—Mayhem was led through the empty restaurant. It was a little bit odd that no one was in here, but he supposed if he was going to get taken out, or if trouble started, they wouldn’t want a full house.
He was led to a back table, one where the lighting was dimmer, and where two men sat behind it. They were similar in appearance, and Mayhem assumed one had to be Sal, and the other Marco.
He’d never actually seen them, although he’d heard plenty about them. He’d also never been told who he’d be meeting tonight, just where he was supposed to go and what time. But seeing the older man, whom he assumed was Sal, staring him down, power emanating from him, Mayhem knew this had to be the head of the gang himself.
He stooped a few feet from the men at the t
able, but someone from behind pushed him forward. Mayhem turned around and growled out low.
“Watch it,” he said to the smaller man, not giving a shit if the guy held a gun. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.” The guy lifted his gun in warning, but he clearly didn’t realize Mayhem didn’t give a fuck about that. He’d throw down with anyone, especially if they wanted to mess with him.
“Lorenzo,” the older man at the table said, and started speaking a string of Italian. After a second the guard turned and went back to stand at the front door. “My apologies for his behavior. They’ve been celebrating since this afternoon, and you can see they’ve had a bit much to drink.”
Mayhem turned back around, and moved the last few steps it took to be right at the edge of the table. Both men stared at him. The younger one had a head of thick black hair combed back from his face, and his dark eyes looked cold. Mayhem knew that all too well. The older man had hair that was slicked back as well, but salt and pepper in color. Both of them wore suits, had half eaten plates of food in front of them, and empty wine glasses beside those.
“I’m Sal, and this is my son, Marco.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Please, have a seat.” Sal gestured to the seat in front him.
Mayhem set the bag on the table, the weight of it making the glasses shake slightly.
Sal smirked, but Marco stayed stoic.
“I have your money.” Mayhem pushed the bag closer to the men. “We’re all good? Nate is set with you two?” He just wanted this over with. Mayhem wasn’t about to sit here and have pleasantries with the motherfuckers that threatened Butters.
There was silence for a moment, and then Sal lifted his chin to a guard behind Mayhem. He looked over his shoulder and saw the prick that had put his hands on him walk toward the back and disappear behind a door.
“Would you care for something to drink?”
Mayhem faced Sal again. “No.”
Marco shifted on the seat, and for just a second Mayhem saw the other man wince.