“And if you come first?” he asked as a deep heaviness filled his cock, the thought of a fuck-fighting her in front of a crowd turning him on even more.
“What do you want?”
“You pull a train. You take every man here watching, until he goes soft,” he snarled. Let’s see them cheer for her now, the bastards!
She swallowed hard. After the fucking Ironside gave her last night and again this morning, she could outlast this asshole. “You’re on.” She saw his smile flicker. “What’s the matter, Stud? Don’t have the balls for it?”
“I’m going to make you scream, bitch!”
She smiled to hide her nervousness, knowing he was going to get rough and this wasn’t going to be pleasant. “Then let’s get it on.”
***
“That’s it! That’s it! Fuck my tight little pussy,” Honey panted, trying to rev him up. They’d been going at it hard for twenty minutes, and Ironside had given her a shuddering orgasm, but there was no passion in his fucking. He’d actually started to pull out after her orgasm, as if he was going to quit, until she’d kicked him in the ass with her heels and begged him for more.
He grunted, burying his head in her neck, driving into her hard and fast. He wanted to come, he needed to come, but he just couldn’t seem to get there. He pulled out of her, and flipped her to her stomach, then pulled her back and up before stuffing the two pillows from the bed under her hips.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, slamming her ass into him even before he entered her as if she couldn’t wait to feel him inside again. He lunged into her with another grunt, then bent over her back, his hands going to her breasts, knowing it would make her come. He’d almost reach orgasm when she came the last time, and he wanted to drive her into another one so her rapture could drag him to the finish line.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” she murmured, no longer acting, rocking with him as he thrust into her. Being taken from behind with her lover laying across her back as he played with her tits was always got her off, and hard.
He could sense his orgasm beginning to spool up again, the need rising in him, the pleasure blotting out thought. He began to drive into her harder, faster, straining for his release.
***
Peyton cried out as Andrew twisted her nipple painfully hard. “You fuck!” she snarled, heaving her hips as she pushed him off of her, tumbling him to floor. She threw herself across him, pressing her breasts into his chest so he couldn’t twist them again and allowed him to steer his cock into her again.
“You like it, you slut!” he growled.
“I’m going to make you come so fucking hard!” she snarled as she worked her hips. Between his roughness and getting the shit fucked out of her by a real man the night before, she was in no danger of coming, but Andrew was beginning to show the strain, his face twisting in erotic agony.
“Fuck!” he growled, trying to roll her over.
She resisted his attempts to roll her to her back, but he was too big and strong. He rose up on his hands, pounding into her furiously hard, panting hard in effort, sweat beading on his face and chest. They’d been fucking hard for thirty minutes, and the men around them had all pulled their cocks out and were stroking them slowly.
“That’s it, Stud! Fuck her! Fuck her good!” somebody cheered again.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good!” she snarled, clamping down on him with her pussy.
“Shit!” Andrew barked, pulling out of her and lunging back while holding his cock tight. “Fuck, you almost made me come again,” he growled after a moment, slowly releasing his cock. He staggered to his feet and grabbed her arm, pulling her off the floor. He flopped to the couch, scrunching low so his hips were hanging off the front with his feet planted firmly on the floor. As he wiped sweat from his face she swung her leg over him, holding him erect as she lowered herself over him. He grabbed her head in his hands and began to thrust into her furiously. “Fuck!” he roared, his teeth pulled back in a snarled.
“Fuck my tight pussy with your big cock. Fuck me until I come!” she wailed, trying to push him over the edge.
As the observers rumbled in approval, knowing this was the end game, a man stepped from the crowd, pumping his cock hard and fast, until he flung his head back with a gasp, his semen splattering on her breasts and Andrew’s chest.
“You’re such a nasty fucking come-slut whore,” Andrew snarled, smearing the man’s come over her sweaty breasts. “Fuck!”
She began to thrust on him hard and fast as he froze his hips, his face twisting as he fought his orgasm. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop fucking me! I’m going to come! Don’t stop!” she cried, trying to lure him into coming.
“Give it to her, Stud! Fuck her! Don’t stop! Make her come!” the crowd roared.
He pulled her down, mashing her into his chest as he began to thrust hard and fast again. “If I lose, I’ll fucking kill you,” he snarled softly into her ear.
Her blood ran cold. She was trapped, trapped between servicing fifteen men and death…and if she was dead, she couldn’t help Melissa. She pushed her way up out of his grasp, twisting her face as if in rapture. She waited, waited until she knew he was about to come.
“I’m coming!” she screamed. “Oh, fuck! I’m coming so hard! Fuck me!”
Andrew roared his release an instant later, pushing up hard and deep, his hands going to her throat and squeezing hard as he pumped slowly into her.
She couldn’t breathe, her hands going to his wrists, trying to break his hold on her neck as he continued to plunge into her, the gathered men cheering them on as they struggled. He released her throat and slapped her tits hard, making her cry out with the last of her breath. She gasped, drawing a deep breath, before falling to his chest to protect her tender flesh.
“Don’t every challenge me again,” he sneered softly so only she could hear. He pushed her off of him to the couch, his cock already going soft. “She’s one hard fucking whore, but no bitch can out fuck me,” he bragged as the men began to pull off their pants.
Peyton sank back into the couch, wanting to cry, but refusing to give the bastards the satisfaction.
***
Honey gasped, shivering as her second orgasm rolled over her. “Fuck…” she gasped as he stopped, her head dropping low. “Did you come?” she gasped, pulling forward to pull him out. After two hard orgasms, she was done.
“No.”
She made sure to never leave him hanging, and there was no way in hell she was going to now. “Roll over,” she purred as she pushed him to his back, “and let Honey take good care of you.” As he flopped to his back, she followed, slowly licking the sweat off his chest as she moved lower before pulling his condom off and taking him into her mouth again. It wasn’t unusual for him to fuck her into submission, but normally he came as he did, sometimes more than once.
She licked and sucked, watching his eyes as she rolled one of his balls around in her mouth. He was watching her, but there was still no fire in his eyes, no heat of passion that was normally there. She moved up, wrapping his cock in her tits.
“That’s it, Babe, fuck my big tits,” she purred has he began to thrust, his leaking cock making her skin slick.
He could feel his orgasm swelling within him again. He’d almost gotten there, twice, but both times, just as he was about to crest, the orgasm slipped away…and it pissed him off.
She saw his eyes harden as he began to thrust hard between her breasts, his lips parting in a snarl. She smiled, liking the passion she finally saw in his eyes. She rose up, pulling another condom from the box kept in the guest rooms, and rolled it over him again. Sheathed, she moved over him and lowered herself, his cock sliding into her wetness.
“Fuck,” she murmured. No matter how many times they fucked, he always felt so good inside of her. She leaned forward onto his chest, holding herself up with her hands, her hips rocking hard as his hands grabbed her ass. “That’s it, Babe. Fuck me. Fuck me good,” she moaned loudly, dropping lower to press
her breasts into his face.
He pulled her down, one hand on her ass, the other on her shoulder, flicking a nipple with his tongue. He could feel his orgasm growing, and as he tickled her nipple with his tongue, he thought of last night. He groaned, remembering Peyton trying to drive him through the bed with her hips as Dolch and the other brothers listened on the phone. Peyton’s glowing skin, her hair a wet mess, the look of pleasure and passion on her face as they fucked hard and fast, the feel of his cock slamming into her, their cries of pleasure…
He grunted, holding Honey tight as he came, then sighed as he relaxed.
“Did you come?” she purred with a smile while slowly kissing his lips.
“Yeah.”
“Good boy,” she purred, taking his lips again and kissing him deeply.
He was already starting to soften, something he never did so quickly. He returned the kiss, then tossed her off his cock before rolling out of the bed.
“Where are you going?” she pouted, as if his leaving was breaking hear heart. “I want to keep fucking.”
“Get dressed,” he growled. “I’ve got shit to do.”
She pressed herself into his back, nibbling on his ear, playing with his cock as he began to dress, but he ignored her, pulling out of her arms as he stood to pull his pants up and button the fly. Without a backwards glace, he stomped out of the room, still shrugging into his shirt.
She watched him go, her face going cold and hard the moment he was out of sight. She would fix that Peyton bitch the first chance she got.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“You okay?” Ironside asked.
“Yeah,” Peyton replied.
“You need to get out while you can.”
“I haven’t found out where they’re keeping Melissa. I can’t leave, not yet.”
“Peyton, listen to me,” Ironside said gently. Since Peyton came to them with the news of the attack, she looked more and more defeated every time he saw her. “You need to face the fact you may not be able to save her.”
“I have to save her!”
He admired her loyalty. “You’ve had four weeks to find her. Maybe she can’t be found.”
“I can’t give up!” she cried. “I’ve been out at night, driving around where they run their girls. I haven’t seen her, but she has to be there.”
“Or she’s dead,” Ironside said softly.
“I can’t – won’t – believe that. Not yet.”
“What have you got for us?” Whiteshirt asked softly. He appreciated her loyalty, and the danger she was in while pumping the Saracens for information then coming to them like this, but he still didn’t fully trust her. She had passed some good intel to them, and they’d used it to screw the Saracens every chance they got, but she hadn’t given them anything that was a true knockout punch.
So far they’d passed an anonymous tip to the cops about a major drug shipment that resulted in a bust that made the front page of all the papers. They’d also arranged a shipment of guns to be “lost” on the docks. That was his favorite move so far. The thought of the frustrations the Saracens must be feeling while battling the red-tape, knowing their guns were somewhere on the docks but unable to get their hands on them, made him smile every time he thought about it. Because the docks were in Knights’ territory, they couldn’t even send a representative to look for them and had to do everything over the phone. The first, and last, member they sent to try to cut through the red tape didn’t return home.
Not everything had gone their way. The Saracens were becoming more and more violent as their frustrations grew. They’d shot up one of their strip clubs, killing twelve, nine of their girls and the three brothers who functioned as bouncers. Whiteshirt had pressed her on why she hadn’t told them until Ironside intervened on her behalf.
Ironside was right that she could only report what she heard, but it was clear to him that he was becoming protective of her. He wanted to trust her, but he was wary after she failed to report the hit that had cost the lives of their brothers and girls.
“Pogo hinted that the cartel was leaning on them.”
“Why?” Dolch asked.
“I don’t know exactly. I think it’s a drugs for guns kind of thing. The cartel delivered, but the Saracens haven’t. I’m guessing the guns were payment for the shipment I told you about. Losing the load of drugs to the cops probably didn’t make them popular either.”
“Do they know we’re the ones holding up the guns?”
“I don’t think so. I know Pogo and Andrew are both pissed at the union.”
Whiteshirt smiled. Their instructions to the union had been simple. Stall as long as possible, then let the guns go. He had no idea they could tie the guns up for almost three weeks, but he loved every day of it. “How does that help us?”
She shrugged. “I’m just reporting what I hear.”
“If we can keep fucking up their deals with the cartel, they may solve our problem for us,” Ironside pointed out.
“Wouldn’t that be great?” Dolch muttered. “Have them out of way and not having to get our hands bloody to do it.”
“Anything else?”
“No. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. Andrew is becoming paranoid.”
“That’s why you need to come in,” Ironside pointed out.
“I have to find Melissa.”
“You can’t help her if you’re dead.”
“Is there nothing you can do to help?” she pleaded.
Ironside looked to his Vice President and Sergeant at Arms. Whiteshirt shook his head and Dolch gave him a small shrug. “I’m sorry. You’re our only source of information. I wish we could help. You’ve earned it.”
“Just keep your promise.”
“We will. You have my word.”
Peyton nodded and rose to her feet. “Do you mind if I grab a beer before I leave?”
Ironside snorted as he grinned. “Help yourself.”
They walked to the bar and he pulled two beers, handing her one and keeping the other for himself.
They settled into a pair of chairs. “I’m beginning to worry about you,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.
She smiled. “It’s okay for now. I’m stroking Andrew’s cock and ego at the same time. He thinks he’s a fucking God, and by that I mean a God at fucking.”
He grinned. “Is he? I heard he has a little dick.”
She grinned. “I used to think he did okay, but then I got a taste of what a real fucking God was like.”
“Anybody I know?”
She giggled. “You might. He’s got his really awesome car that he won’t give me a ride in, but the other rides he given me?” She paused as she fanned her face.
“You have a lot of nerve coming here,” Honey snarled as she approached.
“Hey, Honey! How’s the face?”
“You want to go again? Just say the word.”
Ironside rolled his eyes. “Honey, just shut the fuck up.” In the last month, he’d fucked a several of other club girls in addition to Honey, trying to find the spark he felt with Peyton. It had royally pissed her off and she’d become snarly with the other girls, not that he cared. It was up to the girls to take care of themselves, until it got out of hand. This was the first time Honey had been around at the same time as Peyton since she’d gone underground, and she obviously was harboring a grudge.
“I’m not going to stand around and watch while you stick your cock in this Saracens bitch!”
He rose from his chair. “Who I stick my cock into is none of your business,” he growled, stepping in close, his voice low and threating.
Peyton smiled at her.
“Come on, you bitch, you fucking whore! Let’s settle this, just the two of us!” Honey challenged. “I’ll fucking take you apart!”
“Like you did the last time?”
“You got lucky!”
“Knock it off!” he snapped, staring at Honey.
“Fine!” Peyton said at the same time, rising
to her feet.
“Sit down,” he barked, pointing at the chair.
“She’s calling me out. If she wants to get her ass kicked in front of her whole club, I can make it happen.”
Honey started to charge in, but Ironside caught her and shoved her hard back. “I said knock it off!”
“You’re taking that Saracens bitch’s side over mine, over a member of your own club?” she cried.
“Let her come,” Peyton said softly. She was tired of laying on her back, tired of getting fucked, tired of having to take everything that came her way like a good club girl. She was tired of pretending she enjoyed their little cocks and fat asses. If Honey wanted to go, she would enjoy kicking the shit out of her, taking all her rage and frustrations out on that big-titted bitch.
CRASH: The Rogue Sinners MC Page 36