Riding On Fumes_Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance

by Cassandra Bloom

  “Want to dance again?” Jace asked, following my gaze and obviously thinking the same nostalgic thoughts.

  “Maybe after we get something to eat,” I smiled. “Though I’m still not sure how great of a dancer I am even after everything.”

  “You did fine,” he gently squeezed my hand over the table. “Now, what should we order?”

  “One of everything?” I offered, teasingly.

  “Don’t tempt me,” he said, sounding dangerously serious.

  I decided not to, remembering just how much food he had ordered last time and just how much I had actually eaten. Thinking back to how concerned I’d been with gaining weight while working for T-Built, I decided I didn’t care if Jace ordered the entire menu. I’d gone long enough worrying over any little thing I put in my system and while I wasn’t looking to gain a ton of weight or anything, I wasn’t going to hold back like I used to.

  I relished in the freedom Jace had given me once again.

  While Jace had refrained from ordering every item on the menu, our table had still been covered in plates when he’d been done. I was once again surprised at just how much of the food we had cleared, and I smiled, leaning back against the booth.

  “I don’t see myself dancing now especially,” I laughed.

  “Aw, come on,” he smiled, standing. “Just one dance?”

  I looked over as he held his hand out to me and sighed playfully, knowing I couldn’t say “no” to him. I took his hand and was instantly whisked out to the dance floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he moved me across the dance floor expertly and I wondered absently where he’d learned to dance.

  One dance had apparently turned into five and by the time we had finished and were making our way back to the booth, we were both breathless and exhausted. A crowd had formed once again, and we’d had to work our way back through a crowd of applause and praise. The whole experience felt eerily similar to that one night; my mind once more toyed with the worry that this was all just a dream, but I couldn’t bring myself to resent such a wonderful moment—whether or not it was real. I watched as Jace finished paying the check and after another round of compliments from the crowd, we were finally able to leave.

  As we stepped out of the bistro, I was surprised at how dark it had gotten. I hadn’t even realized we had been out for as long as we had. As Jace led us back to the parking garage, I smiled giddily, knowing somehow that the night was nowhere near over. Jace’s cat-like reflexes played back in reverse as he mounted his motorcycle, and he smiled back at he as I followed suit—feeling much less graceful in doing so.

  “Hurry back home,” I purred in his ear. “And I hope you’re ready for Round Two.”

  “Yes ma’am!” Jace said, hitting the ignition.

  We both made no mention of the obvious tremble that passed through his body a moment before the engine loosed its first growl.

  ****

  I could feel the excitement grow as we sped through the highway, heading back to Jace’s—Our, I corrected myself—condo. I closed my eyes, loving the feel of the night air hitting my face as Jace expertly wove through the streets.

  It wasn’t long before Jace was parking the bike once again and we made our way into the lobby. Jace and the doorman traded nods and a handful of friendly words—none of which slowed our steps as we hurried, horny, towards the elevator.

  I pounced Jace before the doors had closed to hide my eagerness.

  My mouth and my body came down on him in unison, capturing him in an inescapable frenzy. Judging from how quickly he pulled me in, however, I guessed he had no desire whatsoever to escape the onslaught. Our arms were locked around the other, our lips all-but fused and our tongues wrestling for dominance, refusing to give the other’s a moment’s dominance. As the elevator doors opened to his private floor, we more collapsed into his condo than actually stepped in. By some strange miracle we remained upright, though I had to unwrap one of my legs’ vicelike grip around his waist to stabilize us; momentarily creating an erotic tripod with our combined bodies and clumsily teetering towards the living room. Still riding on the bizarrely surreal fumes of grace bestowed upon us, we kept from hurting ourselves as we chaotically made our way around the sofa, which happily caught a few discarded strings of clothing that we’d managed to wrestle off the other.

  For one perilous instant, thinking it was safe to pull my one leg out of the equation, Jace fell into a stumble. He grunted what could have either been a halfhearted “fuck” or a fully-invested moan into my open mouth, turned to catch us against the fast approaching wall—an airy-yet-indifferent grunt being forced out as he took the impact while still holding me up—and, without a moment’s reflection on the possible danger we’d just evaded, moved on up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

  The entire time, neither of us broke the kiss, save for one moment when, possessed by some wild desire deep within me, I pulled away long enough to growl, “Fuck me like you want to break me!”

  By the time we’d made it to the bedroom, we were both naked and panting with pleasure. Jace, eyes flashing like a predator’s, pushed me on the bed a moment before pouncing after me and recapturing my lips. I shivered and purred, arching against his touch. We both grappled for dominance before Jace managed to turn me onto my belly and I, groaning and stretching before him in a feline arc, submitted. I felt the air against me, cool and tantalizing against my dampened folds and the parted cheeks of my ass, and I wagged myself at him in a silent invitation.

  “Wow,” Jace panted, and I felt him trace a finger from the base of my tailbone all the way down to the tip of my clitoris “Someone’s ready.”

  A long, breathy moan oozed past my lips for the entirely of his finger’s journey and my voice, feeling smoky against my pant-ragged throat, asked, “Can you blame me?”

  Jace let out a carnal sound—something ancient and lusty that resounded deep within my most primitive natures—and I felt his body drape over mine as he began kissing and nipping at my neck and the back of my shoulders. His hand slipped around my body, found my breast, and honed in on my nipple, working it knowingly. I gasped, an electric bite of pleasure jolting through me, and he caught me off guard with a bite to my collarbone that cut the sound from my throat while intensifying the pleasure it had signified five times over. I trembled, feeling the already substantial moisture between my legs grow and begin to run down my thighs. Trembling, my ass wiggled again, this time seeming to act of its own accord, and I felt a rigid length of Jace’s own need thrumming like the recently struck chord of some eager instrument achingly close to home. I gasped and whimpered, begging without words, as his teeth began to draw back—pausing only to let his tongue massage the area they’d once occupied—and I remembered how to make sound all over again. I was distantly fascinated by the realization that I would never get used to the feeling Jace gave me. Every touch was a brand new sensation and I was once again lost to him. He had complete control of me!

  All of these thoughts, however, like Jace’s own carnal grunt moments earlier, came to me without words; gliding by in a haze that was more color and heat than coherent reasoning.

  “Jace! You’re driving me crazy!” I panted, startling myself by conjuring actual words from a mind that seemed too fuck-crazy to make sense of anything beyond a whimper.

  “Good!” he smirked, continuing his assault on my submitted body; his cock wavering just beyond where it belonged.

  I moaned as he wrapped his arms around me in a purely erotic embrace, taking a tit in each hand and pulling me back against him. The feel of his warmth against my back and the dual sensations against my chest struck me all at once, and I cried out. My knees buckled, the machinery of my muscles seeming to short out from the flood growing just inches above them, and my entire body began to tremble. A low, desperate moan bled past my lips, and the same basic instinct that seemed to be driving both of us steered my hand down and back. Finding my prize, I gave his cock a gentle-yet-demanding squeeze; my little finger exte
nding in a downward reach to caress one of his swollen balls. I told him then, without words, that I wanted—needed!—to feel him inside me SOON.

  “Hurry, Jace! I can’t wait any longer!” I panted, deciding an instant later that “without words” wasn’t clear enough.

  “Easy, love,” he said around heaving breaths in my ear. “I don’t want this to end too early.”

  “Come on! Don’t tease me!” I pouted.

  “Don’t worry,” he grinned. “You know I aim to please, baby.”

  The second syllable of “baby” trailed off, and I felt the firm pressure of his chest as it trailed down my back. A vision of butter melting across a heat-slicked surface bubbled in my mind as he glided effortlessly down my body, trailing heated breaths and tiny kisses across my spine and along the tensed, corded muscles of my back. Then he was over the edge, his lips trailing along the curvature of my left ass cheek—a teasing nip of teeth pausing there as a playful spank came down on the opposite cheek—and then…

  Oh!

  I felt that breath between my folds an instant before the rest of his mouth caught up. And then he was tasting me. I more felt than heard his moans, and I felt a perverse sense of pride swell up from deep inside me as I realized he found me delicious. I shivered, felt a scream welling within my chest, and yanked a nearby pillow to my face in time to bite down and suppress the sound. The pressure intensified, and I couldn’t tell which one of us was pushing more into the other. His tongue dove further, gave a victorious swirl to claim its new territory, and then cycled back around. He hit every part of me perfectly. My body was his to command and I willingly relented to his control, howling like an animal into the pillow.

  Turning my head and sucking in cool, fresh air, I panted out, “Jace! It feels so good!”

  He moaned a response into my depths, and a moment later two of his fingers slid in my pussy and began to add a new layer to the sensations. He worked them deep, curling them and catching my hidden spot with a “come hither” motion that had my breaths coming out in tiny, squealing bursts. Then, after what felt both like an eternity and a second of pure heaven, he withdrew the fingers and, after a hesitant pause, teased at the entrance of my ass. My moan peaked and hitched in a startled gasp and hung there. Every nerve of my body froze, eager, curious what he’d do next.

  Somewhere from deep inside of me, I heard a distant voice—my voice, though I felt more like a listener in that instant than a speaker—say, “Do it, Jace! Do it!”

  And he did.

  I was no stranger to this. My time on the street and the services we’d been expected to offer had left no part of me untouched. Not that I’d come into the “game” without experience, of course. I had, in my earlier years, prided myself for being brave and “experimental.” I’d come out of those experiences with a general appreciation for the variety of pleasures there were to be had, but anal had always proven itself something of a conundrum. In school, it was something boys had claimed with a sort of frantic eagerness, as though they were afraid that, at any instant, I’d change my mind and deny them any further play. And while some part of this might have been true, the overall experience felt marred from this mindset. By comparison, however, my time as a whore had made me outright crave the frantic desperation of the college boys. Johns, seeing some temporary ownership of my ass, seemed eager to claim its depths through sheer, angry force; as though they might chisel out some claim to something in exchange for their investment. Some were less aggressive than others, but none really made it the experience I felt it could be.

  The ghost of a conversation I’d had with Candy haunted my mind as I felt Jace’s finger begin to gently work its way into my ass:

  “If I ever find a guy who knows how to properly go about working the “other hole”, I’ll marry him in an instant.”

  I felt the gentle probe dare another inch and there was a momentary bite of pain—something I’d come to know all too well. This time, however, rather than having to fight through the process, I felt Jace pause. The tightness held, plateaued, and trailed away—the pleasure left behind nothing short of intoxicating—and, sensing this, too, Jace went deeper, continuing to work his tongue as he did. The feel of his mouth on my pussy helped to distract from the initial process, and I trembled under new waves of pleasure. He seemed to read my mind as he worked; gently priming me with all the care and finesse of an expert mechanic working a beloved machine.

  Fuck!

  It felt so good! Still moaning, I felt my body begin to rock back against his adventurous finger, begging for him to go further. I heard him hum, a sound that was both intrigued and entertained, and he gave a little stirring motion inside me that had my eyes crossing and my breath hiccupping as a small orgasm. With nothing occupying my pussy at that moment, I became violently aware of every muscle that was working through the sensation; my depths working to milk a cock that it had been fooled into believing was there. My ass, however, was quite aware—quite eager—to take this new attention. I could feel myself gripping, pulling, at his finger, and after a short time of slow, methodic pumping with the one finger he slipped in a second. I gasped and let out a low, eager groan, feeling the last slivers of pain melt away as a new sort of desperation grew in its place.

  The slow, testing thrusts turned to more confident pumps with his two fingers, until, at last, Jace was fucking my ass with his fingers. After that, I was lost to the passion. I let loose a loud moan as my release swept through me. He groaned, not stopping as he helped me ride out my orgasm.

  “Oh my god! It feels so good!” I whimpered.

  “Mm! Good girl,” he groaned. “Come for me, baby!”

  I didn’t have time to tell him that a few orgasms had already come and gone under his radar, because the first of the big ones came at that moment. I shivered, continuing to spasm over him as my release poured through me. As I finished, he slowly began to withdraw his fingers. I felt my ass clench, not meaning for it to, as if frantic to keep him in. As they slipped free, a sense of total emptiness washed over me and I whimpered, feeling close to tears from it, and the only way to communicate the need was to frantically wag myself at him. I looked back, my vision hazy, and my hunter’s eye landed on his throbbing cock in an instant. He caught my stare, looked questioningly back at me. I nodded, no longer asking for it—beyond begging for it—but outright commanding Jace with my eyes to fuck my ass.

  He had proven with his fingers alone to be able to do what no man before had bothered to invest a moment in trying. He stared back, seeming stunned by what he saw. Not about to stop the night there—knowing that he needed release as much as I was craving more—I moved my hand down once again, absently fondling his dick as I caught my breath.

  “Mm, you know…” I started in a low, throaty purr, still pumping his cock in my fist as I did, “I always loved the idea of anal.” I blushed a little at the confession, stupid as that felt given my obvious display a moment earlier. “But I’ve never had it done to me right.”

  “No?” he smirked, glancing down. “Well, I think we could fix that. I mean, if you’d like that is.”

  “I would love that,” I said with a flirtatious giggle, freeing my hold of him and giving another inviting wag.

  He shivered a little, looking excited and nervous all at once, and gave a cute little nod. Then I watched as he moved to a small drawer in his dresser and I saw him pull out a bottle of lube. I relaxed, realizing that he was working to be prepared. I couldn’t help but appreciate that he was working so hard to make sure I enjoyed this.

  A moment passed as he worked a healthy dollop of the lubricant to first his cock and then over the still-sensitive ring of my ass, causing another ripple of pleasure to travel through my body. I heard another contemplative hum from him as he heard this—he still sounded intrigued at my responses—and I gave myself another wag, urging him on.

  “Mm! Jace! If you don’t stop, I’m gonna come from just this!” I whimpered.

  “Well, that’s a good sign,�
� he smirked. “I won’t make you wait any longer.”

  I felt him shift, fresh warmth reflecting across my back as he leaned over me, bringing his lips to my ear. “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?” he offered, sounding nervous.

  I responded to this by pushing myself back, working to get his cock into my suddenly starving asshole. He gasped at my efforts, moaned, and promptly giggled at himself for seeming so nervous. Then, giving my earlobe a little bite, he lined himself up more carefully and applied just enough pressure to begin to breach.

  I had been excited to see what anal sex with Jace would be like. A part of me had been certain this time would come—that either he or I would finally express the interest to the other and that things would move on from there—but my own nerves at what he might think and his own concern for how I might react seemed to keep the subject just ever-so-slightly out of reach. Between my ongoing mission to evade my history as a whore and his ever-vigilant dedication to freeing me from my over-sexualized past, we’d stalemated one another into avoiding this particular subject. But I could avoid it no longer, and, from the looks of things, neither could he.

  And then I thrust back again. This time, knowing that he was on target, my effort was rewarded and I felt a delicious spreading sensation return as I took the crown into me.

  It was decided then and there that I was going to marry Jace.

  The two of us worked in unison, both of us pushing to drive the deed to its limits. His cock slid in slowly and steadily, and I could feel myself stretching around him. New depths were reached, opened, and rubbed. There was a heat, something bordering that familiar pain but, with the aid of the lube, not crossing the barrier into unbearable. In fact, with every new inch gained, I felt the teetering balance between pain and pleasure begin to tip. And, for the first time, it tipped in the direction of pleasure. Then, all at once, the scales tipped to one side; the once familiar side occupied by pain utterly nonexistent, and there was nothing but sheer, new pleasure to be had. Jace was buried to the hilt, and the two of us—our breaths held in mutual fascination at what we’d just done—lay there for a stunned moment.