Outlaw's Salvation (A Viper’s Bite MC Novel Book 2): A Bad Boy MC Romance (Viper's Bite MC)

by Lena Bourne

  He’s fucking me with two hooked fingers now, rolling my nipple between the thumb and index finger of his free hand as he watches me squirm on the bed. He starts pumping his fingers into me harder faster, until that bubble of pleasure starts growing again, swells and swells, then bursts in a torrential rain of pleasure. I’m soaking wet and getting wetter, and still he doesn’t stop, the orgasm I’m enduring one giant river flowing fast, breaking the banks, the confines of my body, but he gives me no rest, no respite, no chance to catch even my breath.

  “You’re quite a squirter,” he says later after I might have passed out for a bit, stroking my pussy gently. “Ready for round two?”

  I grin at him and sit up, wrap my palm around his pulsing cock. It’s nice and thick. My fingertips barely touch around it. It’s long too, but not crazy long. Exactly the way I like them.

  “Always,” I whisper and grin back, then move down and take the head of his cock between my lips. He groans as I tease his most sensitive spots with my tongue, before bobbing down on his cock, coming back up. I keep doing that for awhile, enjoying the fullness that is his cock inside my mouth, the velvet softness of his skin, the tickles caused by the pulsing. I’m letting it hit the back of my mouth, taking more of it down as my throat adjusts. He’s close, almost there. But I can’t let him come just yet. So I pull off and run the tip of my tongue around the head, making him gasp, causing his whole body to shake. I know how to give a blowjob. I actually love giving blowjobs.

  His whole body shudders as I take his entire cock down my throat, balls deep. His hand is a fist in my hair as he starts pumping his cock into my mouth, taking control away from me, invading my willing throat, his primal urges taking over. I can’t wait to feel that same force inside my pussy. It’s already clenching, getting even wetter, if that’s even possible.

  I feel his cock swell and kick a moment before a flood of hot come hits the back of my throat. It takes me by surprise, makes me cough, which would be a whole lot easier if his cock wasn’t still buried deep in my throat. Tears are streaming down my face before he finally releases the back of my head and lets me come up for air.

  My pussy clenches again in excitement as I notice his cock is still rock hard, glistening now with the remnants of my spit and his come.

  “Ready?” he asks, hefting his cock in his palm.

  I just get on all fours, arch my back at him, and wink over my shoulder. “Yes, I am very ready.”

  “You’re a wild one, aren’t you?” he mutters and runs the head of his cock over my slick clit.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I whisper back.

  He grins then grabs my hip with one hand, using the other to position his cock over my hole, pushing in just the fat head slowly. But before I can get used to that, he grabs me by the waist with both hands, thrusting his cock into my pussy and pulling me back so I can’t control any of it. The orgasm that rips through me is purely physical, caused only by the friction of his cock and my pussy, but it’s so strong and shattering I scream out. I love this. I want him to take me just like this, over and over, as he unleashes all that passion he’s clearly kept bottled up for a while into me.

  His thrusts get wilder and he’s entering me deep and fast, his strong, callused hands keeping me in place as he opens me up more and more, pounds into me, gives me no time to adjust to his girth, no chance to escape the onslaught even a little bit. My initial orgasms subsides, but a new one is already building as my pussy clenches around his cock, welcoming this pounding, this unbridled quest for pleasure we’re on together. A quest completely unburdened by anything, but the desire to come and let it all be washed away.

  My second orgasm explodes like a billion stars dying at once, and it doesn’t stop, keeps expanding and exploding again and again. I’m panting and screaming, the bedframe slamming into the wall, the sound not louder than the ones we’re making as he pounds his fat cock into me the way only a bull can. And pretty soon I can’t really hear anything, because the force of my orgasm is deafening.

  He collapses on top of me after he feeds me another load of his come, his body shivering, his cock pulsing deep inside me, not growing softer. Maybe we should’ve used a condom. But it’s a fleeting thought. YOLO and all that. And it’s been too long since I’ve done any real living. Besides, none of my tricks gave me a serious STD. The universe is not cruel enough to let it happen the first time I actually enjoy sex again after all that.

  He pulls me along as he lays down on his side, wrapping his thick arms all the way around my chest and belly, his cock still buried in my pussy and his face buried in my hair.

  “That was amazing,” he whispers hoarsely, gripping me tighter and kissing my shoulder.

  A second later he’s breathing deeply and snoring softly. And I might be offended, that he just fell asleep, if laying here in his arms didn’t feel so nice, so right, and so damn comfortable. His cock is slowly growing soft inside me, but it’s lodged too deep to slip out, and I don’t want it to. So I doze off too, holding onto the feeling of rightness washing over me, which is foreign and unbelievable, but very welcome. This is almost like that second part of my whore-slash-queen fantasy.

  Chapter Four

  SAMANTHA

  I wake up with the sun’s rays washing over my face, as they filter through the broken blinds on the bedroom window. Brett is still holding onto me, one hand playing with my breast, teasing my nipple, the other holding onto my belly as he works his hard cock in and out of my pussy, slowly and deeply, his lips nuzzling my neck. I’m not even fully awake when an orgasm washes over me, soft like morning mists forming over a green marsh. I let out a long moan, my pussy clenched tight over his cock, unwilling to let him go, wanting this softness, this pleasure to last and last.

  “Harder,” I whisper, because I want more orgasms. It’s the perfect way to wake up.

  I grab his forearm that’s wrapped around my stomach, dig my nails into his flesh, as he starts thrusting into me full force, his cock literally invading my pussy, making my head spin, the room twirling and tumbling all around me, until I have to close my eyes. I come hard, again and again, surrendering to the onslaught completely, because I have no choice, and I don’t want it. I’m panting, whimpering, yelping and screaming, as I get my wish and more in orgasm after mind-numbing orgasm. Pretty soon I’m sore and open and happy, and wondering if I can take any more. But I can.

  Because this is exactly what I wanted coming here with him. Mind-blowing pleasure, lots of it and nothing else. When I left LA, I was afraid I’d never come like this again, but I was wrong. Utterly and gloriously wrong. Because he’s delivering what I wished for better than I dared hope for. I don’t want it to end. I don’t even want to think about it ending. But the powerful thrusts of his cock are stripping away all my awareness layer by sweet layer, until there’s nothing left to hold on to.

  BRETT

  Samantha’s still sleeping, but my phone buzzing woke me. Or maybe it was her phone, I don’t know. I had ten unanswered calls from Tommy when I got up, and I figure she has just as many. And I’m trying to feel just a little guilty over what we did last night, and earlier this morning, as I call him back, but I can’t. Because it was too damn amazing, and I want to do it all over again as soon as she wakes up. And later too. For at least the rest of the week. Or better yet, the rest of the month.

  I’m sure she’d be onboard for that. I’ve never met any girl as willing as Samantha. She just totally surrenders to me. Yet despite all that, I still feel like it was all my idea, my moves, my chase and her getting caught. She tastes like fucking rainbows and her pussy’s the pot of gold at the end of it. Which makes me what? A leprechaun? I chuckle at the thought. I was always an idiot when it comes to metaphors.

  “Finally,” Tommy barks into the phone. “Listen, I got a text from her yesterday saying she’s fine, but doesn’t need anyone to babysit her while she waits for us. And she’s not answering my calls or texts now. I’ll give her your number, and you go f
ind her anyway, make sure nothing happens to her. I trust you can do that.”

  There’s an edge in his voice, the kind I remember from back when he was still doing all sorts of crazy shit for the MC, and a room would go quiet when he walked in, because he was a scary motherfucker. I haven’t heard him speak like that in a while.

  “Relax, it’s taken care of,” I say. “I found her last night. She’s fine. How’s Tara?”

  I figure that’s what’s causing him to sound so dark.

  “I don’t know and they don’t know either. They’re running all sorts of tests, but she keeps passing out in pain, and I’m about ready to beat some answers out of them,” he says hurriedly, angrily, yet coldly too. Vintage Tommy. He never could get his anger under control, could always fly into a rage at the drop of a hat.

  “I’m sure it’ll be alright,” I say complacently, falling right back into my role of calming him down. I wish he’d fucking told me of his plans to end the MC before he did it. Maybe I could’ve talked him out of it. Then none of us would be in the mess we’re in now. Or maybe we would be in an even bigger one. Who the fuck knows? But at least I could go home, not have to kill people, so I don’t get killed. But even thinking of all that shit doesn’t have the same sharp edge when I remember last night.

  “Yeah, it better,” he says, a little more calmly than before. “I just wish her sister was easier to deal with. She doesn’t even care that Tara’s sick. And after all Tara did for her.” I’m pretty sure he means, “after what I did for her”, but I don’t want to kill off the buzz of last night by having that conversation.

  “You told her and she said she didn’t care?” I ask. Somehow, I doubt it. But then again, I don’t know Samantha at all. I just know what she tastes like, what her body feels like wrapped in my arms.

  “I told her something came up. Tara doesn’t want me to worry her. But she didn’t bother asking what. And she’s not taking my calls.” He’s just rambling now, finding excuses to keep his anger going. I know that side of him well.

  “Sounds like you haven’t slept much lately, Tommy,” I say. “Go rest. Samantha spent the night here with me, and I’m hoping she’ll spend tonight too. It’s handled, you just focus on Tara now, and don’t do anything dumb in the process.”

  The silence that follows is so loud, I’m growing sorrier I told him by the second. He finally exhales, groaning a little.

  “You just had to, right?” he says. “Fine, if it were anyone else, I’d worry, but with you, she’ll probably be fine.”

  I’m not sure what that means, but I’m glad I told him. Hell, I want to tell the whole world I fucked her, that’s how happy I am about it. And I hope I get to do it again in a minute.

  “Just don’t fuck with her head too much,” Tommy continues. “She’s a spoiled, over-privileged girl that lived through her worst nightmare, and she’s not over it yet, no matter what she claims.”

  She seemed fine last night. If I hadn’t known she was held captive and forced into prostitution for almost a year, I’d never have guessed it from the way she acted. And I don’t like the insinuation that I forced her into anything she’d rather not do. That’s not what last night was.

  “When did you become a shrink?” I ask pointedly.

  “I’m just repeating what Tara said,” he explains. “I added the spoiled and over-privileged part, but that’s true too.”

  His assessment of Samantha pisses me off more than it should. But he’s already too agitated, so I’ll let it go.

  “It’s handled,” I say instead.

  That seems to finally convince him, and he lets me go. But I was completely right about her not wanting to talk to Tommy.

  I guess not telling her who I am constitutes fucking with her head. But damn, I need her to be mine without any hang-ups or problems for just a little longer. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t give her a good time. I even went down on her, and I never do that until at least a month into things. One more day, two at most. Just enough to get her out of my system. Then I’ll tell her. Because I haven’t been this eager to fuck a girl, since I learned what my dick was really for.

  SAMANTHA

  “There you are,” I say, opening up the balcony door and stepping out into the oppressive, humid afternoon heat. “I thought you left me all alone.”

  I meant it as a sexual innuendo-laced line to make him want me more, so I’m surprised how serious I actually was once it hangs in the air between us. Why? I have no idea. I don’t exactly want him to go anywhere, but that doesn’t mean I want him to stick around either. Though having his cock for a few more hours, or maybe for the rest of the day would be great. My friend Abby’s shacked up with a guy in some ocean-side villa, so I really don’t have anything better to do than hang out with Brett.

  “I just came out to get some air,” he says, pulling me closer and wrapping his arms around me. I’m wearing one of his t-shirts, since I just grabbed the first thing I could find before I came out here looking for him. It fits me like a dress and comes all the way down to my knees.

  He kisses me hungrily, his hands groping my ass through the thin fabric of the shirt. I can’t believe it, but he’s hard again. We did it five more times during the night, not counting this morning, so that’s quite a feat.

  I don’t dwell on it too long though, since my pussy is already wet, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by him as his thumb finds my clit. Before I know it, his fingers are directing me towards another mind-blowing orgasm, as his tongue invades my mouth with a thirst of someone who hasn’t had any water for a very long time.

  I grip the waistband of his sweats and yank them down, grab his cock, timing my strokes to match the waves of mounting pleasure his fingers are causing inside me. His cock is still slick from my juices, and I want it harder, bigger, want it inside me. I suppose anyone can see us doing this out here, but all I really see is him.

  “You want it again, don’t you?” he asks, his breaths jagged and his voice raw.

  I nod, give his bottom lip a nip before biting on my own. Words can’t describe how much I want it. How much I want him to give me more of that same pleasure he gave me last night and this morning. Fucking Randy never even came close to this. My desire to be with other guys I’ve been with never came close to the desire I feel for Brett. And I was seriously growing afraid I’d never again feel pleasure from sex. Beyond afraid. I was beginning to accept it. Accept that getting fucked for money for so long had robbed me of the pleasure of sex forever. But this stranger changed that in one night.

  My hand freezes on his cock, my teeth digging painfully into my bottom lip as I come so hard I lose my train of thought.

  He pushes me against the window with his fingers still in my pussy. I whimper as he removes his fingers, but he hardly notices as he hoists my left leg up high, opening my hips wide, then uses his free hand to drive his cock deep into my wet pussy. I can’t even make a sound, as he starts thrusting into me harder and harder, the glass behind me jangling in the thin metal frame until I’m afraid it’ll shatter under the force with which he’s banging me against it. No. Not afraid. I’m not afraid of anything right now, except maybe coming so hard I’ll never stop.

  My leg that’s still on the ground is shaking so hard it’s not supporting me at all. He notices, lifts it up too, until all that’s supporting me are his strong arms, and his cock, impaling me to the hilt now. I wrap my arms tighter around his wide shoulders, surrender all my weight, my entire body to him. And I’m rewarded by shattering orgasm after shattering orgasm assaulting me until I can’t even breathe anymore.

  But his kiss is almost gentle once it’s all done, and we’re just holding onto each other, both panting, trying and not really succeeding to catch our breaths.

  He sets me down on shaky legs, his cock slipping out of my pussy, and I lean against his chest for support since I’m afraid I’ll just fall.

  “Wanna go for a swim?” I ask, even though I doubt my shaky legs will support me all the way do
wn the rusted metal stairs leading from his balcony to the beach. But he can just carry me like he did last night. And the sea looks so inviting, glimmering in every shade of blue before me for as far as I can see.

  “That’s a fucking great idea,” he says and releases me. “I’ll just put on a bathing suit. And you can wear your underwear or something.”

  “I’ll just wear this,” I say pointing down at the shirt.

  I like that he cares about what I’ll wear. I also appreciate it that he’s not suggesting I go naked. He just fucked me on a balcony where anyone could see, yet somehow I think he respects me. It’s weird. And welcome. I don’t think I ever felt respected by a man. Especially not after I spread my legs for them.

  “That would be perfect,” he says grinning at me as he checks me out, probably already picturing the t-shirt wet and wrapped tightly around my curves. So maybe respect was a strong word. But it was something like it.

  Chapter Five

  SAMANTHA

  The swim was followed by more making out, in the water, on the sand. And then some more sex before the shower, in the shower, after the shower. He’s insatiable, and so am I. It’s been years since I enjoyed sex this much. My pussy’s so sore it’s hard to sit, but it’s the best feeling. Nothing like all those times I had too many clients, or clients that were too rough. And certainly nothing like back before all that. When I was just a little girl. I’ve been so good at not remembering any of that, but getting trafficked brought it all up again, fierce like it just happened. But it’s OK now. I’m starting to forget again.

  I took another shower after Brett left to get us some food, and then put my dress back on. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m leaving right after dinner, or because I want to look nice for dinner. This sexual abandon can’t possibly last. And I don’t want it to. It just gets too complicated when it doesn’t end soon enough. Like with Randy, who’s been sending me sappy texts practically by the hour. But I never promised him anything. And I certainly never called him my boyfriend.