by Lily Harlem
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
He folded his arms, his knuckles pressing against his biceps and causing them to bulge outward. Desire shot over his eyes. I knew he loved it when I called him that.
“Sir,” I said again then dashed my tongue over my bottom lip, picking up the lingering flavor of him. “I didn’t mean to step out of line.”
Oh, but I had. Not initially. I couldn’t help staring at the man I was obsessed with after he’d been away for a week. And something petulant within me had made me late for the meeting. Rose, well, she’d been my bad idea to get Heavy to notice me and judging from what was happening now, I’d well and truly gotten his attention.
“It doesn’t matter if you meant to or not,” he said, his voice husky. “You did, so you’ll take your damn punishment.”
Excitement rolled through me, sending yet more blood to my cock and knotting my stomach. I wanted to shuck out of my jeans, bend over the bed and tell him to get started now. I wanted the burn of his hands whacking my skin, the sting of his belt over my ass, the stretch that came with his fingers screwing into my ass and prying me wide. I wanted it all…now.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that. I might not be able to help myself.” Heavy stepped away from the door.
I looked downward and studied my boots. There was a big scuff on the left one shaped like a lightning bolt.
Suddenly a streak of pain flashed over my face, agony shot to my cheekbone and my neck jarred.
I staggered backward, grimacing. “What the fuck…?”
Heavy was rubbing the knuckles on his right hand. “Sorry about that.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, I like pain but not like that.”
“What can I say? If you’re not a bit roughed up, Trigger will think I’ve gone soft.”
I gritted my teeth and blew out a breath. The vision in my left eye was a little blurry.
“You might feel like crap now, but later, after midnight, that’ll change.”
I pressed my fingertips to my face then checked them for blood—nothing. “Midnight?”
“Yep.”
“And what will you say?”
“That’s for me to worry about, sub. Just be there.”
I turned away. I didn’t appreciate being thumped but I could see it was necessary. A bit of warning would have been cool though.
His chest touched my back, his mouth was by my ear. The heat of him engulfed me and something inside me melted for him. This big, bad Dom of mine would be able to do whatever he wanted to my body later and I knew it would all be good.
“Grow a pair,” he whispered. “You’re not in the fucking Boy Scouts. Beatdowns come with the turf.”
“I know.” I huffed.
He reached around me and cupped my stiff dick through my jeans. “And this, is it hard for me or that woman?”
“You know it’s for you. I’ve been fucking hard since you arrived back in the yard.”
“Good, keep it that way. No jerking off, no blow jobs. I want you fit to burst when I see you so I can make it real good.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I muttered. Tossing one out had been my plan. I wasn’t sure how I’d survive until midnight otherwise.
“And I’ll know if you do.” He released me and slid his hand to my ass. “And that will mean even more welts, right here.” He squeezed my left buttock, not gently, rough and groping.
My knees buckled. His hand on me was a balm to my frustration but it wasn’t enough. There was so much more we had to do.
“I’ll get there first. Make sure your bike’s hidden in the trees.”
I nodded.
“I’ll leave an empty bottle of JD outside the room. Knock once.”
“Okay.”
He moved away from me. “Midnight.”
I pursed my lips.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, Sir. Midnight.”
I stared at the brick wall, which had been painted a dull green.
The door opened and shut.
When I turned around, I was alone with a throbbing cheek and a throbbing cock. Midnight couldn’t come soon enough.
****
Four hours later, I straddled my bike and headed onto the main road out of town. Within minutes the drive was dark and quiet, just a few trucks heading west and a car that I overtook.
Griff had ribbed me for my swelling eye and had deemed it only right that I should be running around getting cigars for Heavy. I muttered and grunted and made noncommittal sounds.
I hadn’t seen Heavy or Rose after I’d left the back of the club. Trigger had sneered and said he hoped I’d learned my lesson.
If only he knew what my real punishment entailed.
I shivered and told myself it was the cool night air, and not the thought of what the club would do to us if they ever found out. I was sure gays were accepted in some MCs but not Roughneck Riders, they were a bunch of homophobes and vicious with it.
Which left us in a sticky situation.
I smiled and took a left. Sticky, yeah right. The sooner I was in a real sticky situation with Heavy the better—sticky with cum everywhere, on my face, my chest, up my ass.
The motel sign came into view and anticipation wove around every organ in my body. My skin tingled as if it knew what was going to happen, my mouth watered—wanting his taste—and my cock, which had finally deflated, grew once more.
The patch of trees hid the main body of the motel, which on first inspection was deserted, derelict almost. Though a light in a room at the far end with Reception flashing above it told me it was open for business.
Avoiding the reception, I switched off my engine and rolled to a halt in the corner of the lot. After a quick bounce up a low curb, I carefully maneuvered my bike behind a tree. It was so dark I could hardly see what I was doing and I certainly couldn’t see where Heavy had stowed his Harley.
Before I re-emerged, I checked around. Made sure I hadn’t been followed, and that no one would spot me entering a room.
A couple of parked cars near the entrance were in darkness, though the rooms in front of them had slashes of light coming from cracks in the curtains. Other than that the place was empty, no sign of life.
My boots were silent as I headed for the strip of pavement that led to each door. It only took me a few seconds to spot the empty bottle of JD outside room seventeen.
Still looking around and sticking to the shadows, I made my way closer. I’d been waiting so long for this moment, for this time together. My Dom was a difficult man to spend a night alone with but when we did, it was worth the wait.
I stooped and picked up the bottle. Curling my hand into a fist, I then rapped once on the door. I hoped to hell I’d gotten it right. That this was the room Heavy was in, and it wasn’t a cruel coincidence that this bottle was outside. I scanned the row of doors. No, this was the only one with a bottle out front, it had to be right.
The door suddenly swung open.
Heavy stood before me, bare-chested and wearing jeans and a thick black leather belt. He wore nothing on his feet.
“Get in.”
I did as I was told, my attention fixed on the angel on his chest. She’d been created looking permanently downward, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks, and her palms held out. I adored the intricacy of her wings. The long feathers appeared three-dimensional. At a glance it was impossible to see the demons with their slit eyes and tiny horns, but I knew they were there.
He shut the door and applied the lock and chain. He turned to me. “Were you followed?”
“You think I’m stupid?”
He cupped my chin, hard, and forced my attention to his face. “Don’t give me lip, sub. I need to know. Were you followed?”
“No, not at all.” I studied his eyes. I saw so much there. Fear, passion, lust. “It’s fine. No o
ne saw me. Griff bought my story about Panamas. I hid my bike.”
He looked to the right. “Don’t forget them.”
On the table were two fat brown cigars with gold bands around their bellies, the exact ones Heavy liked to smoke.
“I won’t.”
He smoothed the pad of his thumb over the swelling under my right eye then released me and stepped away. He put his hands on his hips and blew out a breath as he turned his back on me.
“What would you like me to do, Sir?” I knotted my fingers together, feeling unaccountably nervous even though need and lust chanted in my head like a mantra.
He was quiet, apparently staring at the bed, then, “Strip. I want you naked as the day you were born.”
Chapter Four
Heavy
I didn’t want to push too far, too fast. Junk had me unraveled. My gut was telling me to unleash all my adoration of him, my sadist self, the pent-up desire that had me panting. My demons wanted to come out to play. But it could be too much for him to handle. He was no lightweight, no softie, but still… When I got going I didn’t take it easy on a sub.
And Junk, well, he’d been particularly badly behaved today. The defiant look in his eyes, the way he’d squeezed Rose’s tit, kissed her, the smart way he’d thought he could speak to me. My plan was to mark his skin, sink deep then have him in my arms, wrung out, satisfied and wearing my lust for him in streaks of red for days to come.
It never failed to amaze me how lucky I’d been to find him. Gay bikers were few and far between, we weren’t welcome in most clubs. But I had to be true to myself. The sight of a broad male chest, roped muscles and the scent of testosterone-infused sweat was what yanked my chain, always had and always would.
Add in a guy who would bend over and be spanked, submit to my will…call me Sir…and I was in heaven. Junk was only the second male lover I’d taken. My first, Conner—rest in peace—had gotten on the wrong end of a gunfight over a decade ago. I still missed him, the void was still there, but Junk, he was filling some of the space—never all of it, but making the emptiness easier to bear.
I waited for several seconds, enjoying the sound of the material and the friction of denim running over flesh. Junk always wore jeans, never leathers, and I loved that. It was soft, sexy, easy access. I drew up an image of him naked in my mind’s eye, the need to turn around almost overwhelming. But I made myself stay still, enjoying the anticipation. Seeing him golden-skinned, perfect, ready for me, was something that kept me going on cold, lonely nights.
“I’m ready, Sir.”
Finally.
I spun around, my heart thudding and my cock straining against my leathers.
Dear God.
The man was beautiful. Broad shoulders, flesh that had a few scars and dents from fights over the years, a six-pack fit for worship and a sprinkling of dark body hair. He had a day or two of stubble and over his right pec a tattoo of a cross with flames at the base.
And the look in his eyes—the unharnessed yearning for us to begin, the flash of dark blue that had turned to the color of an oil slick. It made me want to take him to places he’d never been to before.
I unbuckled my belt.
He watched me. His arms hung loose at his sides.
I slid it from the loops then clasped the square silver-plated buckle that was inscribed with the Roughneck Riders logo. With slow, deft movements that I knew would be filling him with anticipation, I wrapped the long strip of black leather twice around my fist, allowing the rest to succumb to gravity and the end to trail on the floor.
Moving closer to him, I caressed his chest. His flesh was warm, his hairs wiry. The scent of him, raw male, filled my nostrils. I ran my hand over his shoulder and slipped my fingers into the overlong hair at his nape. I curled my fingers around several thick chunks then yanked so his head was angled backward. This was what he’d wanted back at the club. He’d wanted what I’d given Rose. Now he’d get it and so much more.
A slight whimper left his mouth as he stared up at the ceiling.
It wasn’t pain, it was desire. I leaned forward, stuck out my tongue and slid it from the base of his neck up the angle of his jawline. His stubble scratched the tip, and the unique flavor of him, slightly salty, sexy as hell, flooded my taste buds.
Enjoying being so close to him, I lingered, feeling his excited breath on my shoulder.
“On your knees, sub,” I said, stepping away suddenly.
He did it instantly, dropping like a stone with his legs bent beneath him. He looked up at me. My saliva sparkled like diamonds on his neck, catching in the bristled hair.
He moved his gaze to the belt.
But it wasn’t time for that yet. There was something else I needed to do first.
One-handed, I undid the buttons on my leathers, then shoved them and my boxers down to my thighs.
Junk’s attention switched to my cock as it jutted free.
My balls ached. I could almost feel the veins that twisted up my shaft throbbing. I was so hard, so fucking in need of release. The urge to come was all I could think of.
I stepped up to him, the end of my dick just inches from his mouth.
There was a flash of surprise in his expression. He’d been expecting a flogging.
Well, it didn’t matter what he thought was about to happen. This was my show. I was in charge. He’d do what he was damn well told.
“Open up,” I said, cupping his chin.
He formed a perfect ‘O’ with his lips.
“Lick it.” I rested the end of my cock on his bottom lip.
He stroked over my slit, the wet heat of his tongue a hot flame stoking my desire.
Once again I grabbed the hair at the back of his head and held him firm. “Get ready for it, sub.”
He drew in a deep breath, his shoulders rising, his chest expanding.
I forged in, my cock disappearing into his mouth and gliding over his tongue.
Damn his mouth—so fucking amazing. I’d dreamed about this for weeks, of sinking deep to the back of his throat.
And fuck, the guy could take it.
“Yeah, yeah, all the way…” I said, bracing my legs. “More.” I bucked my hips forward.
He gagged.
I pulled back, releasing my hold on his head slightly. “Take it, sub.”
He nodded and curled his tongue around my shaft.
Once again I pushed in, the grooves of his palate stimulating my tip. “Oh fuck, I want to come… Play with my balls.”
He was quick to obey, cupping my sac in his palm and gently squeezing.
Fire was building, my thighs shaking. I wouldn’t last long. This was just to get the tension out of me before the real fun began. If I didn’t release then need might blur my senses, and I had to be alert when I took Junk to subspace. I dropped the belt so I could cup his jaw, and it landed with a quiet clink on the carpet.
“That’s it, that’s it…” I gasped as I fucked his mouth. Pushing in, pulling out, over and over. “Take it, take me.”
His head was under my control, he was under my control.
Cum was racing up my shaft, dragging an almost painful pleasure with it. The tension, the wait for this moment, had created a climax that was heady with intensity.
I pulled out and grabbed my shaft, worked it head to root and up again.
Pearly cum burst from the slit, making its way onto Junk’s cheek.
He shut his eyes.
“Ah yeah, more, there’s more…” I pulled his head back, angled my cock at his other cheek. “My balls, keep…”
He upped the pressure and rolled and squeezed just the way I liked.
More cum leaked from me, landing below his right eye and dribbling onto his nose.
Oh, yeah, he was mine. All mine.
I groaned, the ecstasy of orgasm dra
gging with it one last spurt of cum.
Junk poked his tongue out and caught the last of my release on the tip. He left it there, his dark-red tongue holding the milky blobs for me to see.
“Fuck, so hot.” I dropped to my knees and grasped his cheeks.
He opened his eyes and stared straight at me, tongue still offered forward.
I smoothed my thumbs over his skin, spreading the warm cum. “Swallow.”
Slowly he pulled in his tongue then swallowed.
I pulled him to me for a wild kiss. He tasted of desire—my desire—exactly the way a sub should taste.
We kissed for a whole minute as my heart rate returned to normal. After I broke the kiss, I stood and retrieved the belt. Once more I gripped the buckle and curled it twice around my fist.
“Now stand.”
He did.
“Wipe your face clean with that towel.” I nodded at a towel I’d placed on the cheap melamine dresser. Alongside it sat a tube of lubricant.
He did as I’d instructed, his movements swift and efficient.
When he’d finished, he faced me again.
“Turn around,” I said.
He presented his gorgeous ass. The flesh was paler than on the rest of his body and I adored that about him, it meant the marks I left there were all the more vivid. Seeing glowing red skin worked for me every time, made me hard enough to hammer nails.
Not taking my attention from his sexy butt, I quickly stripped off my leathers. I wanted to be ready for skin on skin when I fucked him.
But first…
“Step up to the wall.” I splayed my fingers and pressed my hand in the center of his back, urging him to the large blank wall ahead of him, which was painted a sickly shade of yellow. “Arms and legs spread.”
“Yes, Sir.” He made his body into the shape of a cross.
I stood close to him, my damp cock already half erect again, touching his hip. “You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And why it’s going to be extra lashes.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“So say it.”
“Disobedience, Sir.”
“More specific.” I flicked the belt toward the center of the room. It made a sharp cracking sound.