FILTHY SINS_Sons of Wolves MC

by Nicole Fox

  “Sure, whatever you have.”

  “I have Diet Coke.”

  “Diet Coke, then.”

  I get the drinks and return to the couch.

  He nods to the TV. “Do you often watch the shopping channel?”

  “It’s my greatest passion,” I say.

  We both laugh. “I’ve missed you,” Fink says. “I know that must sound pretty goddamn rich, but it’s the truth.”

  “I don’t like being messed around, Fink.” I hear the bite in my voice, the cutting edge, but I can’t blunt it. “If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be here. But you don’t need to sneak out on me like I’m some kind of child.”

  “Fair enough,” he says. “But I’m not going to apologize. I shouldn’t even be here now.”

  “Because you’re the big bad wolf?” I say. “Because you’re too big and dangerous for a little lady like me?”

  “Well, yeah, actually.” He sips his Coke. “That’s exactly right. I almost lost Sal his business a couple of hours ago.” He explains to me about Michaels and his cop friends.

  “I hate that man,” I mutter. “I really, really hate him. I don’t consider myself a violent person, but if he was tied to a train track I think I’d have trouble with the knot.”

  Fink stares at me. “Goddamn. I didn’t realize you were such a psycho.”

  I slap him on the arm. “Maybe you should remember that the next time you sneak out.”

  “Are you all right?” he asks. “You seemed a bit flustered when I first came in.”

  “Did I?” I shrug. Tell him, I urge myself. Get it over with. Tear off the Band-Aid. “I was cleaning the bathtub. I haven’t met anybody yet who enjoys cleaning the bathtub. Oh, and I might be unemployed, too.”

  “Unemployed? Why?”

  Shit, shit. I regret saying it right away. I had to leave work early to buy a pregnancy test. I should just come out with it like that, but I can’t. The memory of waking up to an empty apartment is too fresh. If I tell him now, he might just leave again, leave and never come back. But if I don’t tell him, he might vanish, and I’ll never get a chance.

  “Nancy?” He places his hand on my leg, warm, solid, whispers of pleasure moving up my thigh

  I tell a half-truth, saying I left early because of Dad. “I don’t think I want to work there anymore, anyway,” I tell him. “I’m not sure what I want to do, though.”

  “Being sure is harder than people think. I reckon most people just do what they do because they never stop to think about anythin’ else, or maybe they do but it’d require too much effort. I’m at a strange place in my life where it’s easier to outlaw than to do anything else. Easier to kill men and ride and rob and set fire than to sit at a desk or work in a garage. What sort of life is that?”

  “Are you self-pitying?” I ask. “Because the man I met at the garage all those weeks ago didn’t self-pity.”

  Fink snorts. “The man you met at the garage all those weeks ago, pretty lady, isn’t the man who’s sitting here today.”

  “What’s changed?” I ask.

  “I reckon you know what’s changed.”

  “I don’t.”

  He meets my eye, blazing green focused on me and me alone. “You,” he says. “You’ve changed me.” He squeezes my thigh, sliding his hand further and further up my leg. My lips part, my tongue licking my lower lip, my fingers tWolfing. “I met a beautiful woman at the garage and now my whole life is turned upside down. I’m not gonna try and explain it, because I wouldn’t know where to start. All I know is I don’t feel like the man I once was. I’m starting to wonder if that man was ever real at all.”

  I touch his hand, stopping him just before he reaches my crotch. “I have to . . .” I trail off. The words won’t form. They linger on the tip of my tongue but when I try to push them into reality they just stay there, stubborn and disobedient. I want to tell him—I need to tell him—but part of me is terrified that if I do, he’ll run again, this time so far away I’ll never be able to find him. “It was wrong of you to run out on me like that,” I hear myself say. That’s what it’s like: as though I hear the words instead of speak them. “Is that what you think I am? Some kind of whore who’s on demand whenever you’re horny?” I’m angry at him, sure, but I’m also angry at myself for not telling him about the smiley face in the bathroom.

  “I don’t see you that way,” he says, removing his hand from my leg. “I left because it was better for you—”

  “I’m a fucking adult!” I scream, leaping to my feet, anger at him and anger at myself fusing together now. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. Nobody gets to decide what’s best for me apart from me. If you want to leave because you don’t like me, or think I’m boring, or we don’t click or whatever, fine, but you don’t get to march out because you think I’m too immature to make up my own mind. That’s not how this works.”

  “With all due respect,” Fink says, standing up and facing me, “this isn’t about making up your mind. I’m not telling you I’m dangerous in some emotional sense, Nancy. I’m telling you that one day bullets might rain down on this apartment just because I’m in it. I don’t think you know what you’re—”

  “I know exactly what I’m saying. But if that’s true, if you really are the big bad wolf, then why are you here? Why come here at all? Because you feel comfortable here? Okay, fine, I’m glad. But surely your comfort isn’t more important than my safety if you really are the boss of me and I don’t get a say.”

  “You’re right,” Fink says, trying to push past me. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  I grab his face in my hands, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t say that. You need to understand something, Fink. I can make my own decisions. I can choose my own path. I don’t need you or anybody else telling me what I can and can’t do, who I can and can’t do it with. I want you; you want me. And anyway, since when did anyone say love was safe?”

  “Love . . .” Fink chews his bottom lip. “I’ve never loved a woman before, Nancy.”

  “Then we’re even, because I’ve never loved a man before.”

  Tell him! Tell him now! Don’t let this fester!

  “But it doesn’t make sense,” Fink says. “I don’t understand it.”

  “I don’t think it ever does. Maybe it’s not supposed to.” I stand on my tiptoes, all thought of telling him vanished from my mind now. “I’ll make a deal with you. You can stay here, but only if you stay the whole night.”

  “Stay the whole night . . .” He touches my chin, and then my cheek, trailing my skin with his forefinger. “I reckon I can live with that.”

  I turn and lead him toward the bathroom. “Follow me,” I say. “I need to take a shower, and I don’t want to take it alone.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nancy

  I strip slowly, watching him the whole time, watching the lust work its way through his face, his body becoming tense and ready. He stands at the bathroom door, arms folded, eyes locked on me. The shower blasts steam into the air, the room getting wet and hot. I’ve never been much of a dancer, but now I writhe and twist my body, taking off my tights and wriggling out of my skirt until I’m naked but for my panties and my bra.

  I unclip my bra, freeing my breasts. Fink’s eyes go wide, the hunger plain on his face. He wants to bury his face in my breasts. He wants to suck my nipples. And now, as I pull down my panties, I don’t think about anything but the pleasure. I’ll tell him later: tomorrow morning, when our lust is spent.

  “Goddamn,” he says, walking across the bathroom to me.

  There’s something unbelievably sexy about me being naked and him fully clothed. I don’t know what it is. It makes me feel bad, naughty. He leans down and grabs my breasts, pushing them together and sucking one and then the other, grunting from deep in his throat as he sucks. My nipples go hard and prickles move around them, begging for more sucking, more pinching. He rubs and sucks and at the same time slides his hand down my belly, sl
owly, toward my bare pussy.

  I grab his shoulders, propping myself up as his finger finds my clit. He presses his middle finger down, hard, and it’s all I can do not to bite my tongue off at the instant pleasure. I’ve been thinking about this pleasure for weeks, touching myself and imagining that it’s his finger, not mine, and now I finally get the real thing, not a pitiful facsimile. He rubs teasingly, taking his time, all the while sucking my tingly nipples.

  I grab his shoulders even harder, feeling the rock-hard immensity of them, the power of this man, this man who I’ve thought about almost nonstop for over a month.

  Then he stands up straight. “I want to lick you as you suck me,” he says. “I want to feel it at the same time, your tight pussy and your clit and your mouth around my cock.”

  He steps back and begins undressing. As soon as he pulls his T-shirt over his head, revealing his muscular torso, his torso which is like a series of boulders joined together, smooth white stone firmer than steel, I can’t just stand here anymore. I help him undress, yanking down his pants and pulling off his boots until we’re both naked. He lies on the floor on his back, his cock hard, waiting for me. I sit on him, my pussy near his face, and then lean forward so that my mouth is near his cock.

  It’s the first time I’ve ever done this position.

  I lean down and take his cock in my mouth. Again, I’m struck by the sheer size of it, the sheer girth of it, stretching my lips open. Then Fink sucks on my clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking hard so that it presses against his lips, so that blood rushes to it and it feels like it might pop. The pressure is almost unbearable, and yet so full of pleasure I want it to last forever. I suck all the faster as he licks me, pushing my head down on his cock so that the tip touches the back of my throat. I massage his balls and push my hips down, pressing my pussy into his face. He grabs my ass cheeks, digging his fingers into my flesh, and licks faster, punishing my clit with his tongue.

  Sucking his dick as he licks me heightens the pleasure, his cock filling my mouth as his tongue consumes my clit, choking and moaning at the same time, moaning for the pleasure of his flickering tongue and the size of his cock. I choke and gag and then start screaming as the pleasure becomes hotter, more consuming, touching parts of me no other man has even come close to. I rock back and forth on his face, grinding my pussy against his mouth. He eats me, completely eats me, making out with my lips and my hole and my clit as I force my mouth down further and further on his ten-inch cock.

  The pleasure increases, getting more intense, both of our bodies slick with sweat and moisture from the blasting shower, the steam making his balls warm in my hand and his tongue warm on my clit. I close my eyes and fuck his cock with my face, not caring when he chokes me, not caring when it hurts a little because the pleasure has taken me now, gripped me in its invisible hands and squeezed so tight that every point of potential euphoria within me is on full-alert mode, ready to unleash. He licks, faster, hotter, firmer, and the pressure of the orgasm mounts just behind my sweet spot, ready to spill out onto his face. It feels like a withheld sneeze, only my entire body wants to sneeze, my entire being.

  He spanks me, and I come.

  I come so hard that my whole body gyrates, my muscles acting without me, throwing me about the place like a ragdoll. I ride his face, no longer able to suck with the pleasure moving through me; I’m afraid I’ll bite by accident. I grab onto his cock with one hand and his hard belly with the other, grinding his face like it’s a cock as he spanks me and turns my skin red with his strong hands. I squirt onto his face, gasping in pleasure, gasping in shock at the intimacy of this moment. When the orgasm passes I’m hungry for more. Starving for more. Desperate for more.

  He grabs my ass and pushes, forcing me to my feet, and then jumps to his and leads me into the shower. He has that wild look again, that animal look, though I get the sense that more of him is present than last time. Fink isn’t completely gone; he’s just horny as fuck.

  The water rains down on me, powerful and hot, drenching us both as we stand in the shower staring into each other’s eyes. He kisses me, our lips slick, both of us having to focus on the kiss so that we don’t slip and hurt our teeth, both of us giving our attention unequivocally to this moment.

  “I need you,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “I need your pussy. Goddamn, Nancy, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  He grabs me by the armpits and lifts as though I weigh nothing. I follow his lead and wrap my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his hips, latched onto him like a tortoise’s shell, my pussy tingling like crazy as he lowers me toward his crotch. His cock brushes my pussy, but we’re both soaked and I’m even wetter, and it slides away, grinding against my thighs. I groan and Fink growls, and we try again. This time his cock slides directly up between my legs, finding my hole as though it was made for it, and pushing deep inside of me, all my body weight pressing my down until his cock is pushed up against my sweet spot, my ass cheeks against his balls.

  “Fuck,” he whispers, eyes on my face. “Fuck, you look so fuckin’ sexy when you’re getting fucked.”

  “Fuck me, then,” I whisper, kissing his neck, feeling closer to him than I have to any man. “Fuck me, Fink. Fuck me.”

  He thrusts up, almost slipping from the power of the thrust, his cock slamming inside of me, pressing even harder against my sweet spot. Then he slides out slowly, making me feel every inch of him, getting hungrier and hungrier for him as he slides away, and then he slams into me again, completely filling me, his girth stretching my hole so wide it’s all I can feel, just this moment, this size, this perfect unity.

  We fuck quicker after that, me bouncing up and down on him as he holds me up, thrusting up inside of me, both of us pressing closer together each moment.

  “Oh, fuck!” I scream, his cock like a jackhammer, slamming repeatedly, triggering pleasurable moment after pleasurable moment deep inside of me. We’re both so wet, so slick, hot and steamy and closer than I ever thought I’d be to this man when I saw him shirtless in the garage. I think of him how he was then, dirty, and look at him now, sweaty and slick, and the two images come together. All of a sudden, I’m bouncing up and down on that oil-slicked mechanic just as he looked when I didn’t know his name.

  “Oh, fuck!”

  I bounce quicker, grinding up and down his cock, feeling every inch of him inside of me, feeling every crucial moment of ecstasy. I bring my face to his neck, bite and lick and moan as the two of us writhe in our endless dance of pleasure. He grabs my ass cheeks, holding me up by digging his fingers into my skin, holding all the tighter for the slickness of the water. Then I lean back, looking into his eyes, and he stares back into mine. Wide, animal-crazed, but more there than he was before, more present. He’s hasn’t completely left me. He hasn’t completely fled. He’s here, with me. I sense that that’s unusual for him, that normally he’d glaze over like men often do, abscond his body and distance himself.

  He kisses me. Fireworks cascade inside of me. Our lips rub together, our tongues pressing close, tangling and then coming apart. And all the while, I’m bouncing, harder and harder each moment, and he’s pushing up inside of me. I close my eyes, and then force them open and look directly into his blazing greens. He stares at me, too, both of us with our eyes open as we kiss, locked on each other.

  It’s his eyes and the kiss as much as the frantic slapping of his cock that brings the orgasm from the world of dreams to the world of reality. I focus on the kiss, the millions upon millions of nerves tingling between us, the millions upon millions of pleasure-touched sensations that captivate our mouths. We kiss violently, teeth clicking together, blood from a bitten lip mixing with our saliva, and we don’t even know who bit who. My sweet spot gets warm, and then blazing hot, and then it’s like the showerhead is buried inside of me, blasting right onto my spot, but it’s Fink, Fink with his shower-hot cock, pounding, pounding . . .

  “Oh, oh, oh.”

  “Yes
.” Fink growls, grabbing my ass cheeks all the harder. “That’s it. Fuck, yes, yes. Come, baby. Come.”

  I squeeze my legs together, which in turn squeezes my hole tighter around his cock so that both of us have to move with more power to meet in that beautiful middle spot of connection. The showerhead blasts furiously inside of me now, punishing my deep spot. It takes the beat, absorbs it, growing larger and larger until my entire lower half is my sweet spot, and then my belly, and my breasts, and my neck: a hot flush creeping over it all. All I feel is the tingle of the water outside of me and the tingle of the scalding pleasure within.

  “Fuck—”

  Everything releases, my entire body—every spot of pleasure—letting go at the same time. I sag in Fink’s grip, trembling as the euphoria works its way through me like the rumbling of a car engine. My legs almost slide from his hips, but Fink holds me up even as I sag, fucking me all the harder as I loll in his grip. The orgasm evolves, getting deeper, warmer, more penetrative. It isn’t just an orgasm of the body anymore; it’s one of the mind, the heart. I press close to Fink and feel his heart beating inside my chest, and even if I know that that makes no sense, that’s how it feels. His heart beating inside of me, powering the orgasm, my toes curling and fists clenched with each following beat.