Blake: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Hell's Exiles MC Book 2)
Page 15
“I need my cock in your mouth.”
Un-fucking-believable. She slapped his shoulder. “I just told you I love you and you tell me you want a blowjob!”
He bounced to his feet, and she had to steady herself. “I fucking love you Rebecca Anderson, but I need that mouth around my cock right now.” He fisted her hair. “Suck me off, princess. So, we can play.” He used that commanding voice that got to her every time.
Using her hair, Blake directed her to the bench that ran the length of the shower, and pushed her down. His cock bobbed large and hard in front of her. He was by no means small, or even average. Everything about her man was big. He’d taught her how to give a blow job when they were in Reno. Even so, a shiver of apprehension slithered down her spine at putting all of that into her mouth.
“Relax, princess. You can take me.” He rubbed a thumb across her jaw then used it to part her lips. As she watched that monster cock, a pearly bead seeped from the tip, she swiped out her tongue and caught it. His salty musky flavor teased her senses, and the trepidation she’d felt disappeared.
Opening wide, she slid her tongue along the bottom of his shaft as she engulfed him, remembering to relax her throat and breathe through her nose as Blake slowly dragged his cock in and out of her mouth. She couldn’t actually suck him, he was just too damn wide, but she could hum, and she did as more of his essence coated her taste buds.
A pulse in her core started and kept time with Blake’s swinging hips. “Do you want to swallow my cum or do you want it to fill your cunt?”
It took a few seconds to unlock her jaw and speak, “In me.” She all but begged.
“Where?”
They’d played this game before. Blake liked when she told him exactly what she wanted. “My pussy.”
“That’s not what I asked. I asked did you want to swallow my cum or do you want it filling your cunt.” He raised an eyebrow at her.
Oh, she was so going to slap him silly. . .but after he made her come. “My cunt.” Cold tiles met her back and that monster cock felt like it ripped her in two as Blake settled between her legs. God, she’d missed this pleasure pain feeling that only he could give her.
“Missed being buried in this cunt. Missed waking up with my cock warm and snug inside of it. Don’t ever fucking disappear on me again.” With each word, he fucked her harder. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and her moans filled the steamy bathroom. She couldn’t catch her breath.
The world spun, her knees connected with the bench. “Ride me, baby. While I kiss this mouth.”
Blake ate at her lips as she rocked back and forth, each forward motion ground her clit against the base of his cock. Her pussy began to flutter… “Blake, I need to come.”
“Not yet. I’m not ready to come yet.” This was another game he was teaching her. Her orgasms belonged to him. At first she’d laughed, but after the first time she’d ignored his edict and came, he’d punished her by bringing her to the brink of orgasm over and over again, but wouldn’t let her reach climax.
Teeth sank into her shoulder and her pussy tightened. “I’m serious Blake, I can’t hold it.” She sobbed.
“Then milk me, princess.”
At his words, a supernova went off. Her pussy tightened to the point where he felt locked within her. Lights flashed behind her closed eyes. And a scream got trapped in her throat. He grew impossibly big before his warm seed washed over the walls of her cunt, sending her already spasming into a frenzy.
Slowly her muscles began to relax and she slumped against his heaving chest.
“We’re getting married.” His words pulled her from the restful state she’d fallen into.
“That didn’t sound like a question.”
“It wasn’t. We’re getting married.”
Becca shook her head, then dropped it against his chest. “I would have said yes if you asked.”
“Wouldn’t have mattered. Wasn’t going to let you say no.”
Becca bit her lip to stop from laughing. “Hey! That means I’ll get a cool Russian surname.”
“Sorry, princess. Alexander is my legal name now. Had it changed when I left the family.”
Bummer. “Fine, but if this kid is a boy, he is so going to be called Bold, or Ivan, or Sergei… Hey, maybe would we could name him Boris?”
Blake shook his head then dumped her on her ass on the shower floor.
“That was rude,” she screamed after him.
He made it up to her by introducing her to all the ‘toys’ he had.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sir threw the glass of amber filled liquid at the wall. His temper flared as he watched the video replay of what should have been the beginning of Hell’s Exiles demise.
Instead, it had been a fucking bloodbath. He’d lost good men. Fred was dead, and his product once again out of reach. He should have handled the deal himself. Should have made sure those fuckers never got near his factory. Should have made sure the location was more secure. . .
Instantly he knew where he’d gone wrong. He shouldn’t have kept the merchandise in the same location he was selling it from. Something he’d be sure not to repeat. Yes, that was the only thing he should have done differently.
Still he had no idea how those fucking biker bastards had discovered the location.
His phone beeped, a message from his informant, and his suspicions of the how were answered. Fred should have dealt with this little fucker long ago, now Sir was going to have to handle it.
An idea came to him.
Smiling at the phone, Sir sent back a message.
Sitting at his desk, he pulled out a folder and started compiling the information.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Two months later
“My club house is fucking pink and frilly.”
“Geepa said a bad word again, Momma,” Evie squealed as her father scooped the little girl up so he could look her in the eyes.
“And what has Geepa said little girls have to do when they are in his clubhouse?” his voice boomed through the room, but his eyes sparkled with mischief.
“To put my fingers in my ears and pretend I heard nothing.”
Quin kissed the tip of her nose before putting Becca’s adopted daughter down. Her father had come through in a big way. Him and Blake hadn’t let Becca go along when they paid a visit to Evie’s father, but when they’d came back, Quin handed her a stack of signed paperwork that named her and Blake Evie’s legal guardians. Blake had later told her it had all been Quin’s doing, Blake hadn’t even thought about how’d they legally get guardianship of the little girl. But seeing as a lot of illegal things happened in their world, they would have found a way around it. Blake also told her that Evie’s dad was no longer part of the living, again thanks to Quin. Apparently, her dad had some anger he needed to work off and a man willing to sell his child to human traffickers was the ideal target.
With a tap to the little girl’s backside, he turned Evie around to face the direction of the pool tables. “Now go bother Uncle Stone, I’ve gotta talk to your momma.”
They watched as Evie raced off. “You are so mean,” Becca said. “You know that man has no patience, especially for kids.”
Her dad just shrugged. “She’s cute, he’ll get used to her. Now about this goddamn wedding. You sure you want to be saddled with that fucking biker?” He wrapped his arms around her and swung them around the dance floor.
“You asked me this before you walked me down the aisle. Don’t you think it’s a bit late for me to change my mind?”
“Never too late, baby girl. I’ve got a nice piece of land out back with that boy’s name on it.” She slapped his waist. He huffed out a breath. “Just tell me you’re happy, ‘cause this wasn’t the life I wanted for you. You’re so damn smart, Rebecca, you could have done so much more with your life, then sticking with us low-lifers.”
Standing on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “I’m happy, Dad. And for seven months I thought I wanted not
hing to do with this life. But look where I ended up. The mafia isn’t any better than our club. Although they do dress better,” Becca said, spying Boris dancing with her now sister-in-law.
Getting married with her best friend had been the best decision they’d made. Though, Nessa was pissed to realize on the day she finally became an Anderson, Becca was becoming an Alexander. No amount of hounding had gotten Blake to change his name back to Alexandrov.
Resting her head against Quin’s chest, she breathed in his spicy scent. “I wish mom was here.”
“I know baby, but you know she never would have let you marry that man. She wanted out of this life, for her and for you.”
Neither said any more as they remember those they’d lost. Not only her mom, but all the others. They’d held a memorial a week after her rescue for those that they’d lost.
A squeal dragged her from the morbid thoughts. Raven squealed again, as Horse threw her over his shoulder and spun her around. The sisters had decided to stay with Hell’s Exiles, not only that they were staying in her dad’s house. A growl rumbled through Quin’s chest and into her ear. She peeked up to get a look at his face.
“That girl better watch herself, Horse will use her up.”
Okay, that was odd. . .
“Stop hoggin’ my wife.” His scent hit her before his voice did.
Quin let her go as Blake wrapped his arms around her, his big hand resting over her stomach.
“She might be your wife, but she’ll always be my daughter. You best remember that, Blake.” With that, her dad walked away.
“Dance with me, princess.”
She did until her feet were to sore to stand.
“I have to ask.” Raven took a sip of beer. “How does the sex work between you two? I mean you’re like itty bitty short, and he’s a fucking mountain.” Nessa and Swan giggled, while Becca quickly covered Evie’s ears.
“Should we really be talking about this in front of the kids?” Becca looked at Swan.
“Forget about her, she’ll be seventeen soon and probably having more sex than me. I’m getting no sex. None! But back to you, so tell me how it works. I’m having issues visualizing the logistics. I’d say missionary was out, ‘cause he’d freakin’ smother you.”
The girls giggled again.
Whispering so Evie wouldn’t hear, Becca answered, “Let’s just say Blake is a very inventive lover. With an extremely kinky side.”
Blake watched the girls laugh. Whatever they were talking about, Becca obviously thought it was something their daughter shouldn’t hear. And didn’t that thought freak him out a little. He had a daughter and a baby on the way; he hoped to hell he didn’t fuck them up. Being raise by a mafia Boss hadn’t taught Blake anything about actual parenting. But then his kids had Becca, and already she was proving to be a brilliant mother.
“Can you stop looking at my sister with dopey eyes? It’s bad enough knowing you knocked her up.” Chase clinked his beer against Blake’s glass of vodka. They raised their glasses, then took a drink.
“I’ll look at my wife anyway I want. Should I tell you to stop looking at Nessa the exact same way?”
“Not going to happen.” Chase shook his head and threw a smile at Blake.
“If you two saps are done mooning over your women, I need you in my office now,” Quin’s voice was quiet but rang with authority.
Placing their drinks down, they followed Quin, Zane, and surprisingly Boris, into the office. The door closed, shutting out the noise from the wedding reception.
“What’s up?” Chase asked.
“I got this delivered right before the ceremony.” He threw a folder on to the desk. “I only just had a chance to look at it.”
Boris was the first to pick up the folder and flicked through it. Moments later, a litany of quickly spat Russian rolled through the otherwise quiet office. Blake snatch the file off him, Chase and Zane crowding his sides as he flicked through the pages: Financial statements, showing a substantial deposit. A simple note stating: This was my informant, kind regards, Sir—Becca had mentioned that the mastermind behind the human trafficking operation was only ever referred to as Sir—and finally a picture. A picture of Danil, dated yesterday. The man they thought they’d lost helping rescue the girls was photographed lazing on a porch swing. Blake flipped the photo over. On the back in bold writing was one word. Texas.
“Fuck.” He balled his fist around the paper. “When do we leave?”
“You’re not going anywhere—”
“Like fuck. I never liked that guy and he was part of the reason my woman got kidnapped.” Fucking hell, he’d never like Danil. hadn’t trusted him, thought he was hiding something.
“It’s your fucking wedding day. You and Chase are staying right here. Zane will handle it. That’s final, Blake, don’t push me. I’m still not over the fact you knocked up my baby girl.”
“Maybe this isn’t just a frat house,” Boris said to him in Russian.
Blake closed his eyes and willed away the need to throttle his grandfather.
“Fine. Zane can deal with it. I’m gonna get my woman out of here. I haven’t had a chance to do anything depraved to her today.”
Blake raced from the office, the paperweight Quin threw missing him by mere millimeters. Chase’s laugh and Quin’s, “Keep your hands off my fucking daughter, you sick fucker!” followed him down the hall.
He was totally feeling the family connection.
Epilogue
Sweat beaded his face and neck, but he laid still in the high grass, unmoving. His breathing even and steady. The army had trained him to kill, Hell’s Exiles had taught him to enjoy the kill.
He’d been hunting this fucker for days. Finding him hadn’t been hard. The Russian was bound to stand out in a state full of slow, American-talking gun loving rednecks. God, he loved his home state; he’d only had to ask at one corner store to find the location of the Russian. But each time he thought he had the shot, something stayed his hand. The man had a constant stream of visitors.
None had been of interest to Zane, so now was the time.
An engine revved in the distance; he paid it no mind. Drawing in a steady breath, Zane held it for a second, and as he released it, he added pressure to the trigger. When sniping you didn’t pull the trigger, you added pressure until it engaged. Through his scope, he watched as the Russian fucker dropped silently to the ground.
He sat up and finally wiped the sweat from his face and dismantled his rifle. He needed a shower and a feed in the worst way, and he knew just the place to get both.
He hadn’t seen Sam since they’d buried Zane’s ex ranger partner. But he’d kept tally on the feisty, trouble-making younger sibling.
The question was, would he be welcomed or would his visit get him a kick in the balls?
The end…
For now.
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About Sassie Lewis
Sassie Lewis is a hybrid author who penned her first novel in 2014. She writes wickedly naughty romance full of hot alpha males she’d slap if she ever met, and sassy speak-their-mind women who she’d love to be friends with.
With a somewhat skewed and unique view of the world, she is the queen of the intensely personal overshare.
She hopes to drag you into the world she creates and leave you breathless and wanting.
When Sassie really wants to get down and dirty, she writes erotica under the name Vixen.
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Also by Sassie Lewis
Hells’s Exiles MC
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