Road of No Return (gay outlaw biker MC romance)

by K. A. Merikan

  Zak shuddered on the mattress and fumbled with his pocket to get out the two packets. He was so hot he felt like shedding everything, including his own skin, and feel Stitch even closer, accept his almost bloodthirsty passion. This was a twenty-something, possibly gay man who suddenly got a chance to have sex with a guy, no wonder he couldn’t help himself. But there was something strange in the sheer intensity of Stitch that made Zak both uncertain and hornier than a mating bull. “Kill you?” he uttered, pushing down his jeans for more freedom. “I’m not that dangerous.”

  The shape of Stitch’s body mingled with the darkness, as if he were a biker demon, ready to possess Zak with those big hands that were now kneading his chest, and a dick that was probably already ready to fuck like a devil. Zak half-imagined Stitch growing horns and his dick getting nubs and ridges all over.

  “You are if you keep being this hot,” Stitch whispered, and the longer they were in the room, the more Zak’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness. Still, he couldn’t keep up with Stitch’s hands. Pulling up his top, sliding to his ass, and squeezing it hard. His knee pushed Zak’s legs apart, and all they had for a soundtrack were their shallow breaths, exchanged between trembling lips, sweet enough to send Zak’s head into a spin.

  Zak pushed his fingers into Stitch's long, coarse hair and pulled him closer, eager to bite into his mouth, tearing out chunks of the juicy lips and tongue. Now that he’d lost his pants and underwear, he dug his heels into Stitch’s ass and pulled him in. His ass was pulsing with need, as if there was a void within him that needed to be filled with hard warmth. He pushed the two packets into Stitch’s hand, breathless. “Want you inside...”

  “Fuck yes…” Stitch's hiss was accompanied by the condom wrapper crunching when he tore it open. Just seconds of fumbling later, a generous amount of lube drizzled down Zak’s crack. “I’m gonna pound you into fucking oblivion,” Stitch rasped, pushing the cockhead against Zak’s anus and sliding it against the slippery, sensitive skin.

  It trailed along Zak’s crack like a snake, ready to bite into his flesh, and he clung to the strong frame on top of him, close to wheezing his excitement. He couldn’t see much else than the contours of Stitch’s hair and shoulders, like he was lying under some brute who would take whatever he wanted whether Zak liked it or not. But he did like it. He did want it, and raised his hips to brush them over the hard flesh. “Yeah....”

  Stitch pushed a few times, spreading the lube all over, but his next thrust was stronger and got the cockhead right through the sphincter. “So fucking tight I wanna cream you already.” Stitch panted over him, pushing Zak into the hard springs of the old mattress.

  Zak gasped and bit the inner side of his lip, trembling with the searing pain that spread through his ass as it clamped around the invading cock in a vise-like grip. But he was too horny to complain and arched his hips off the mattress, stabbing himself further with the velvety steel between his legs. Without the aid of his eyes, his world narrowed down to the tactile sensations. The rough, old mattress below. Stitch’s body, tense as a jaguar’s attacking its prey, damp with sweat. Stitch's scent overcame Zak in violent waves, intensifying as Stitch started easing his thick cock back and forth through his clamped anus. The soft strands of his hair trailed up and down Zak’s cheek in the same rhythm, surprisingly gentle and soothing.

  The loud sniffing around Zak’s neck only made the whole thing seem even more animalistic. “I could come from just smelling you,” Stitch rasped just before pushing in up to the hilt, his balls hitting Zak’s ass. Stitch lowered himself onto Zak, squeezing all air out of him and making him gasp. The hot flesh pulsed in Zak’s ass, triggering sparks of excitement to rush up his cock, which was trapped between their sweaty bodies.

  “You’re such a caveman,” whispered Zak against the throbbing lips, sweet and spicy with the taste of rum. The pain was subsiding to a burn that he knew would only feel better soon, and he pulled his legs up higher, resting his feet on Stitch’s hips, completely opening himself up. “You’re even gonna suck the marrow out of my bones.”

  “Hound of Valhalla after all.” Stitch growled and a glint of teeth showed in the sparse light when he smiled. He pulled out slowly, only to stick his cock right back in, then started repeating the violent rhythm. “Suck the marrow, gnaw on your fingers, crush your flesh, and squeeze come out of it.”

  Zak bit back a moan, grabbed the tight, fleshy ass between his thighs, and forced his eyes open, gazing straight into the pitch-black darkness where Stitch’s face was. His body was shaking as pain mixed with mind-numbing pleasure every time that thick, merciless cock brushed over his prostate again and again, pushing against it upon entry, and gently pulling when Stitch drew back. Each thrust was filling that painful void inside and pushing Zak to new heights.

  Stitch grunted with every harsh move, but never stopped fucking Zak like there was no tomorrow. His ass was hot and tense under Zak’s touch. “You like that? You like a good, hard fuck?” Stitch rasped, his hips moving in a motion so fast, he made the rusty springs in the mattress moan with them.

  Zak let out a low growl, curling his toes when all of a sudden, the heat in his stomach started rapidly building up. His balls became tighter and tingly as his cock slapped against his stomach with each of Stitch’s brutal thrusts. He was coming. He would be coming so hard. “Fuck me, yes, please do it like you mean it,” Zak wheezed, pulling on Stitch’s buttocks and sensing the warmth between. Grinning like a madman, he delved his fingers into the crevice and pushed his middle finger into the hot, dry hole. He hooked it into the flesh, pulling Stitch even deeper into his own body.

  Not only did he get Stitch to moan and squeal, but Stitch completely lost balance and toppled over on top of Zak with his whole weight, his cock buried in Zak like it wanted to stay there forever. He came with a few punishing thrusts, his whole body shuddering. Each of Zak’s senses felt heightened. The snaps and studs on Stitch’s cut dug into his body through the clothing even as he trembled, pushed over the edge. He could sense Stitch’s sweat and physically feel his orgasm with Stitch’s anus clenching rhythmically over Zak’s finger. He slipped it out as soon as Stitch relaxed, and gently massaged his buttock, kissing the sweaty face buried next to his own. The stubble caressed his tongue in return as he curled around Stitch, hugging him in the sweetest afterglow. Zak didn’t even remember if they’d managed to stay silent, but it seemed irrelevant.

  Stitch couldn’t catch a proper breath, lying by Zak like a wounded animal, too hurt to get up, yet too alive to stop breathing. His body still trembled slightly, and he pulled out with the slowest of motions, so much in contrast to the way he fucked. The smell of come, woodchips, and leather was one Zak was sure he’d begin to associate with sex. He gasped when the cock slid out of him, leaving his abused hole empty, but Stitch’s gentleness was enough to urge him on to reciprocate. He leaned up and kissed both of his partner’s eyelids, hugging him tight.

  Stitch held him close in return as they lay in darkness and silence, cooling off after the intense fucking. Only the faded sound of rock music from the bar seeped into the room like a reminder that the real world existed out of this fuck cave.

  Zak cradled Stitch’s head in his arm and kissed him gently, tasting his lips in peace now that they were both sated. He closed his eyes. This was one of the most amazing sexual experiences of his life, so primal, passionate, and intense. He was almost sorry they had to let go soon. “You made me so sore,” he eventually chuckled.

  “I— yeah, you weren’t complaining,” Stitch muttered and rolled over to his back, his breath slowly evening out.

  “I know. I wanted it,” whispered Zak, moving close to him and sliding his hand lower to play with the curly hair over Stitch’s cock. The sweet burn between his asscheeks would make him walk funny tonight, but it was worth it.

  Stitch went silent again, only his breath loud in the darkness as his chest moved up and down. “That… thing you did? Don’t do it again.”

 
“What thing? This?” Zak stretched and nuzzled Stitch’s eyelid, wondering whether this level of tenderness with a man made Stitch uncomfortable.

  “No. God.” Stitch groaned and put his palm over his face. “The finger thing. You just… I’m not into this stuff, okay?” he muttered from under his palm.

  Zak frowned. So there went his prospects at getting some. “Oh. I thought... you liked that. It made you come,” he said, petting Stitch’s abs.

  Unfortunately, even when Stitch took the hand off his face, Zak couldn’t see his expression very well. “I came because your ass milked me like it was hungry. It had nothing to do with that. I wasn’t gonna make a fuss about it like some pussy, but… just don’t.”

  Zak sighed and hugged Stitch closer, slightly disappointed by this development, but it wasn’t like Stitch was the only guy around. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Good.” Stitch pulled him in for a hug and kissed his chin. “Other than that, wow. I mean, wow.”

  Zak chuckled and combed his fingers through Stitch’s hair, fighting the urge to close his eyes. He did not want to be caught here. “Yeah, you’re a good fuck.”

  Stitch gave him one more kiss before rolling out of bed. By the sound of it, he was pulling up his pants. “So, can I come over tomorrow?”

  “I suppose, just let me know because I might have a customer over,” he said, slowly walking over to where he’d shed his pants. Eager to get decent, he pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned himself up.

  “I will. It will probably be in the evening, after work. I’ll call.” There was a sound of a clattering belt buckle, and Stitch came closer. “You are the hottest thing that’s walking this Earth,” he said and planted a kiss on Zak’s lips, making him breathless. Stitch was disarming him with the contrast between his usual rough demeanor and moments like this one.

  Not knowing what to say, Zak laughed and gently punched Stitch’s chest before pulling up his own pants.

  Stitch sighed, his hands never away from Zak, they kept trailing between his shoulder and back. “You staying or going?”

  Zak bit his lip and looked into Stitch’s eyes, which were now turned toward the light. “I think it’s better if your friends don’t see me walking like I have just dismounted a horse after a day-long ride.” He brushed his fingers over the metal buckle over Stitch’s crotch, hard enough for Stitch to notice.

  Stitch chuckled, slid his hands to Zak’s ass and squeezed it. “At least it was a fun ride.”

  Zak put his arms around Stitch’s neck and kissed him, rolling his hips into the waiting hands. The residual electricity on his skin was ready to spike.

  “I’ll check if the coast is clear,” Stitch said and pulled away. When he opened the door, the tiny room got illuminated by the dim light from the corridor, trailing down his gorgeous body. Zak smiled and followed the ray up Stitch’s back with his fingers. If there was a gay bar around here, he’d suggest going out for a drink, but that wasn’t an option.

  Stitch looked back at him, his hair in a mess. “Let’s go.” He opened the door wider, and Zak walked into the corridor with a satisfied smile. He made a move back toward the bar when Stitch held his shoulder.

  “Through the back,” Stitch said and nudged him to go down the corridor, following close behind. The walls were adorned with posters and cutouts, but also had framed photos of bikers.

  “Why, you want to show me something?” asked Zak with a wide grin.

  “Nope, just might be safer for no one to see you.” Stitch patted Zak's ass again, and it felt like a gesture of appreciation. They passed an open door to a kitchen, which was cleaner than Zak would have expected from a bunch of rough guys. The small, windowless space was tidy, even if a little beat up.

  “Why?”

  “You said it yourself, you’re walking funny.” Stitch laughed. For a guy who complained even about getting fingered, he was awfully comfortable making fun of someone else’s ass. So typical.

  “True.” Zak sighed and walked right up to the door at the end of the corridor, which he supposed was the exit. “Isn’t your cock sore?”

  “It’s the pleasant kind of pain.” Stitch grinned at him like a maniac and opened the door for him with the courtesy of a prince.

  “So, where’s my carriage?” asked Zak, stepping out and stretching his body. He was pleasantly tired. Now all he wanted was a long bath and his bed.

  Stitch exited behind him into a dingy back lot with a yellow streetlight and a few beat-up cars. “You want me to take you home?”

  Zak looked back at him, surprised. “I... don’t want to leave my car all the way here.”

  “Yeah, makes sense. I’ll take you for a ride sometime though.” Stitch led him along the empty back lot with a smile.

  Zak chuckled and pulled on a belt loop of his jeans. “Yeah, when you aren’t drunk.”

  “Makes sense. My boy likes safety.” Stitch snorted and winked at him.

  Zak frowned. “I’m not a boy,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  “Just sayin’.” Stitch shrugged.

  Zak pushed his thumb under Stitch’s shirt and pulled it over the warm skin. “I respect that you don’t want certain things, but I also have stuff that I don’t like. I’m telling you this so that you know.”

  Stitch groaned. “Okay, okay, so ‘boy’ is off limits. Such a pain in the ass.”

  “Well, it’s a pain in my ass that I’m not getting any,” said Zak, looking at him with a slight frown.

  Stitch went silent and pulled away like Zak burned him, but his gaze was fixed on something farther behind Zak’s back. “The fuck is he doing here? Does he not have a wife or something?” he snarled and looked to some car in a dark part of the street.

  Zak looked back and narrowed his eyes when he noticed a cleanly shaven man in a dark shirt staring right at them. He raised his hand and waved with a slight smile from inside his car. “And who is that?”

  “A proper pain in my ass, that’s who that is. Officer Cox. That man needs to get a life.” Stitch raised his hand and showed the man his middle finger. “You bored, Cox?” he yelled at the officer.

  The man leaned over the steering wheel of his red Chevy and shook his head with a small smile. Zak exhaled and looked down to Stitch’s chest, only to spot...

  “Stitch, you have come on your cut.”

  “Fuck. Not like he’s gonna see it from over there,” Stitch whispered. His face darkened even as his expression remained like carved in stone “I’m gonna be going. Let me know when you’re home.”

  Zak grinned and slapped his back. “It’s just a short drive. I’ll make it there safe. Later,” he said and stepped down from the porch, making his way toward the wild parking.

  Stitch nodded and turned around, returning to the clubhouse without another word.

  As Zak walked along toward his car, moving with the steady rhythm coming from the bar, Officer Cox watched him intently. Choosing to ignore it for the time being, Zak tried to walk as straight as possible, despite the burn in his ass. That had been a passionate quickie if he ever had one.

  “Hey there." Officer Cox got out of his car.

  Zak stopped in his tracks and turned around, taking a quick glance to where he had been standing with Stitch just moments ago. Why was the police interested in Stitch of all people? Was it just because of his membership in the club? “Good evening.”

  “Haven’t seen you around here before,” the officer said and leaned against his car. He wasn't wearing a uniform, but his smart, dark clothes were in stark contrast to what people at Valhalla wore. He was quite handsome, in a regular citizen sort of way, like someone your parents would like you to be with. If they agreed with you being gay in the first place.

  Zak pushed his hands down his pockets and shrugged. “I only moved here recently.”

  “No club colors?” Cox crooked his head to the side.

  “I don’t even own a bike.” Zak spread his hands and let them fall to his sides. “Why?”

  “I like to kee
p an eye on what’s going on in my town. You’re Stitch’s friend?”

  “I only got to know him a few days ago. I’m a tattoo artist, so I hope to get to know the citizens as well as you, officer,” said Zak with a small smile. What was this about? He couldn’t ask him directly.

  Cox laughed. “Ah, yeah, that makes sense. The one aspect of the Hounds that I actually like. Though most of these thugs have ugly tattoos. They could use someone like you. You’re going to have a good market here Mr.…?”

  “Richardson.” Zak frowned, not sure how to react to his new fuck buddy being called a thug. “Yeah, I hope I will find a market here.”

  “Can I see your arms?” Cox asked with that same smile and kept looking into Zak’s eyes. Zak held the eye contact, and then it hit him. Cox wasn’t keeping him here in hope to get some intel, the guy was flirting with him. He couldn’t help but snort. What were the odds?

  “Sure.” He made an inviting move with his head and exhaled, watching the man’s shapely body as he walked across the road to join Zak.

  “That is some nice work. I’m Peter.” Cox held out his hand. “I always thought of getting one, but it wouldn’t be a good idea in my line of work.”

  Zak shook his hand and slowly moved his thumb over the sensitive place at the side of Cox’s wrist. He was watching every twitch on that square, clean-cut face. “I guess that depends on where you have it. There are places on your body that your colleagues won’t see, am I not right?”

  When Peter’s smile widened, Zak knew he’d hit the right spot. Tall, all-American Officer Cox could turn out to be the other side of the coin Zak needed. “Might be true. Maybe you should show me the best place to have one?”

  Zak raised his brows and smiled. Maybe he would get some ass after all?

  Chapter 8

  A tiresome day deserved a good ending, and it was exactly what Stitch was planning to get. A happy ending. When he met Zak two months ago, he was a twenty-seven year old gay virgin. Now? Under the pretense of getting new tattoos and helping Zak with DIY, he was getting a piece of prime male ass twice, sometimes three times a week. He’d do it every fucking day, morning and evening if it wasn’t for having to keep things quiet. After that crazy fuck in the clubhouse, he knew he overdid it. Clubhouse was off limits.