Club Princess: Royal Bastards MC Durango, CO

by Nicole James

  I gasp in a breath at the incredible sensation, his beard brushing against my sensitized skin making it all the more erotic.

  He presses kisses up both thighs, and I swear he’s doing it because it’s driving me crazy with need. He’s touching everywhere but where I need it most. He watches me, knowing exactly how he’s affecting me, and loving every second of it.

  “Memphis,” I whisper.

  “You want something, pretty girl?”

  “Yes, touch me.”

  “Like this?” The callused pads of his big thumbs stroke over me again and again.

  “God, yes.”

  He makes circular motions, rubbing and seeking, until he teases my clit out of hiding, pulsing and throbbing.

  “There it is.”

  He dips his head and licks, toying with it with his tongue, and I almost come off the bed.

  He pins me down with his big hands on my hips, and his elbows spread my thighs until I’m immobile, and at his mercy. Then he settles in, and licks, and toys, and plays with me until I’m pleading for relief.

  I can feel the wetness flowing from my pussy, and finally he thrusts two fingers inside me, curling and seeking out that sweet spot that drives me wild. When he finds it, he doesn’t let up, pressing against it while he swirls his thumb around my clit faster and faster, until I’m about to orgasm.

  “You close, princess?” His voice is hoarse with his own need, and it thrills me to know how much I’ve affected him.

  “Yes,” I pant.

  “Come for me, Lola.”

  At the last syllable of my name, I splinter into a million shattering pieces, like fireworks lighting up the sky, and his mouth comes down on me to suck, and his fingers deep inside me push hard on that little trigger, intensifying the orgasm like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

  I gasp and moan and writhe, throwing my head back, and arching my spine, my breasts thrust up in the air.

  He works me over and over until I gently float back to earth, my breathing sawing in and out of me.

  “Beautiful,” he growls, moving over me. He takes his big hard cock in his hand, and swirls the head around in my wet release, and it is such an exquisite sensation, I moan.

  “Put your arms around me, princess.”

  I do as he commands, and he sinks inside me with one hard thrust. He’s big, and it’s a tight fit.

  “Goddamn,” he growls deep, pushing his hips against my thighs, locking us together as tight as we can go. “Heaven. Fucking heaven.”

  I hold him tighter, not wanting to lose the weight of his hot skin pressed to mine, but he pushes his palms to the mattress, lifting to look down where we’re joined.

  I cup the back of his neck, so turned on by how he stares at his big hard dick sliding in and out of my slick pussy, that I feel another drench of wetness. I can’t help clenching down on him, and he moans, his eyes coming back to mine.

  “Do that again. Keep doing that,” he grunts, and begins to move in and out of me so fucking slowly that its absolute torture and exquisite pleasure at the same time.

  God, I never want it to stop. I want him to slowly thrust in and out of me like this all night. But then my arousal begins to ramp up, and this slow pace begins to drive me crazy again. I want more.

  I lift my hips, rubbing against him, needing more.

  He rises up to his knees; his hands lock on my hips, and he drags me up his thighs, my weight going to my shoulders in the mattress as he puts me on an angle, my pussy in the air, meeting his thrusting hard cock, and his hips piston into me in an ever accelerating pace.

  “My baby like this?” he grunts out, his muscles rippling, his skin covered in a fine sheen with his exertion.

  “God, yes, don’t stop.”

  Our skin slaps together, the only sound in the room besides our heavy breathing. His gaze locks onto my bouncing breasts, and he reaches down to squeeze them, his thumb rubbing roughly over the nipples.

  Suddenly, without warning, he pulls out, flips me to my stomach, manhandling my body with ease as he yanks my hips up, and plows into me from behind.

  I stretch my arms out on the bed, my ass high, as he takes my pussy hard and fast. I feel one big warm palm move over my ass and down my spine. His hand cups my shoulder and squeezes.

  “Up on your knees for me, baby.”

  I do as he demands, pushing up with my palms and rising. His muscular arms come around me, those big hands closing over both breasts. He kneads them, and plucks at the nipples until they stand out, red and engorged.

  He pinches both, and my back arches, thrusting my breasts up into his touch as my head falling back on his shoulder. He bites my ear lobe, and sinks his teeth in the soft flesh between my neck and shoulder.

  “I want to mark you, every way I can, gorgeous.” His voice is harsh.

  I rub against him, my hands closing over his on my breasts.

  “Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, baby.”

  He releases one, and glides his palm down my flat belly, his fingers dividing my pussy lips to toy with my clit as he keeps fucking me long and deep.

  “Oh, God,” I moan, writhing against him.

  When I’m nearly there, I contract around him, and he swears.

  “Fuck, Lola. You want it?”

  That sends my orgasm soaring, and all I can do is nod my head rapidly, turning to mash my mouth to his.

  He grabs my hips, and jackhammers into me, then groans and goes solid against me, exploding in orgasm right after me.

  We both drop to the bed, a sweaty, heaving mess.

  When we finally catch our breaths, he rolls to his back, and tucks me to his side, his straying hands still moving over my body like he can’t get enough of touching my soft skin.

  I rub my thighs together feeling a decadent soreness deep inside. I know already, one night with him will never be enough.

  I feel his bicep under my head flex as his stroking fingers play with my nipple, drawing casual circles around it until I squirm and move an arm to try to push his hand away.

  He grabs my wrist with his other hand, and tightens his arm around my neck. “Lie still. Let me play.”

  I obey, loving the way he orders me around in that demanding and erotic tone. I undulate against the hot skin of his body pressed tight to my side as he plays with my nipple until I’m fully aroused again.

  I moan, a pleading catch in the sound, and he just moves to the other nipple, giving it all the same attention.

  I see his cock grow and bob up from his abs, springing forward, pre-cum dripping from the tip. I move then, sliding down his body, and he lets me go.

  I close my hand over him, and stroke up, rubbing my thumb over that wetness, and spreading it across the broad head of his cock.

  His hips lift, and I take the hint, sinking my mouth down over him, taking him all the way to the back of my throat. After several strokes, his big hands grab me, and spin me around until I’m on top of him, my legs spread, and his mouth on my pussy. His arms lock tight on my hips, holding me immobile while he laps at me.

  He brings me close to the edge so quickly I’m surprised by my own body’s reaction time.

  He breaks his attention to growl, “Finish me off, princess, or you don’t get yours.”

  I smile, and do as he says, until he’s comes long and hard down my throat with a roar. Then he rolls us, pinning me to the bed, and gives me mine.

  When I’m floating back to earth for a second time, he covers my body and takes my mouth for a long kiss. I taste myself on him, and its erotic as hell. Finally, he lifts his head, and stares down at me, smiling.

  “Goddamn, woman, you were made for sex.”

  I stroke a hand over his jaw. “You’re not bad yourself, Memphis.”

  “Gonna want more of that, princess. A lot more.”

  I smile up at him, happier than I’ve been in years.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Lola—

  We walk outside to the bike under a clear, sunny sky. Still, Mem
phis pulls a bandana from his saddlebag, and runs it over the seats and chrome, drying the last of the droplets from last night’s storm.

  As he squats down, tending to it, angry voices carry to us, drawing my attention to a small group of adolescents, standing in a group across the street, waiting for the morning school bus. They’re probably eight or nine years old. There are no parents or adults in sight.

  “You’re such a dork. I’m gonna call you Davy the Dork.” A boy in a backward ball cap shoves another kid. “Davy the Dork.” He shoves him again, and this time the other boy falls to the ground.

  “Stop it. Leave me alone,” the fallen child shouts back.

  The other boys laugh, while one little girl tries to shove the bully away. “Stop it.”

  The bully shoves her off.

  Next to me, I feel Memphis rise to his feet, and I glance back to find his gaze zeroed in on the group.

  He wipes his hands, and tosses the rag on the fender. “Wait here.”

  “What are you going to do?” I ask, but he’s already headed across the street toward the boys. Of course I don’t obey his order, instead following a few paces behind.

  Memphis steps in front of the bully, and backs him up until he’s pressed against a wrought iron fence that encircles a front yard. The bully stares up at Memphis, his eyes big, and his face white as a sheet.

  “You got a problem with my nephew here, kid?” Anger radiates off of Memphis, and he’s suddenly every inch the badass Royal Bastard his patch proclaims.

  The bully shakes his head, and stutters out in a shaky voice, “N-no.”

  Memphis arcs his brow. “No, what?”

  “No, sir.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Johnny Haskell.”

  “Well, Johnny pipsqueak Haskell, I’m his Uncle Memphis,” he jabs his thumb over his shoulder at the victim of this boy’s abuse, “and the next time you lay a hand on him, I’m gonna come lookin’ for you—and make no mistake—I’m gonna find you, and you’re not gonna like it when I do.”

  The boy’s terrified eyes drop to Memphis’s MC cut.

  “We clear?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Tell him you’re sorry, and you better sound like you mean it,” Memphis growls, his face inches from Johnny.

  The kid peers around Memphis to the boy on the ground. “Sorry, Davy. Won’t happen again. I swear.”

  After a moment, Memphis steps back, and leans over the boy on the ground, extending his hand, and pulling him to his feet. “You okay, Davy?”

  “Y-yes, sir, I mean, Uncle Memphis.”

  The corner of Memphis’s mouth pulls up, and he gives the boy a light tap on the chin and a wink. “You have any more trouble with this kid,” he pauses to take in the others, “or anyone else, you let me know. I’ll handle ‘em.”

  Davy gives him a trembling smile and a shy nod.

  Memphis puts his hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you later, dude.”

  The school bus lumbers around the corner, its engine groaning as the driver moves through the gears. Memphis steps back as it lurches to a stop, and the door swings open with a whoosh. The children race to scramble on, Johnny in the lead.

  Davy is the last in line, and pauses with one foot on the step to turn back and look at Memphis. “Thank you.”

  Memphis lifts his chin. “You have a good day, son.”

  Davy climbs on, and the door swings shut. The bus lumbers away, its diesel engine leaving a plume of smoke as we watch it disappear around a corner with Davy’s face pressed to the glass.

  I glance back to see Memphis holding his hand up in a wave, and I feel a knot in my throat. I can’t help letting him know what I’m thinking. “What you just did—it meant a lot to that kid. ”

  “Yeah.” He doesn’t argue or brush it off as nothing, like I half expect him to do, and I know he realizes just how much he changed that kid’s day, week, maybe even life.

  “Why did you do it?” Maybe it’s an asshole question, but his actions surprise me.

  “I was that kid once,” he admits softly, his eyes meeting mine.

  I don’t know what I’m expecting him to say, but it isn’t that—not such a personal confession. My mouth drops open, but I have no words. I can’t reconcile it with the biker he is.

  This man is so not what I expected.

  “Come on. We need to get on the road.”

  I follow him across the street to the bike, and we mount up, and pull out without another word. As we head toward the interstate, I tighten my hold around his body, and lean my head on his back, thinking of that little boy and what Memphis did for him.

  Before we hit the interstate, he turns off and parks in front of a storefront shop. I glance up, wondering why he stopped.

  He looks over his shoulder at me. “Think you can find a change of clothes in this place?”

  I stare up at the window. Ella’s Chic Boutique.

  “Maybe.”

  We climb from the bike, and walk inside. Its a young, hip place where college-aged girls probably shop. There’s a small sofa, and Memphis plops down while I move to the racks along the wall, flipping hangers along the rod.

  I find a couple of shirts and a pair jeans, and dig some panties and a bra out of a lingerie display in the back.

  A girl directs me to a changing room behind a curtain, and I try the shirts and pants on. They’ll work. I dress, and push the curtain back.

  Memphis stands. “Ready?”

  I nod, and he moves with me to the counter, pulling a credit card from his wallet. It comes to almost two hundred dollars, but he doesn’t blink at the amount.

  “You want to wear any of it?” he asks.

  I nod, and return behind the curtain to change. I come out with my dirty clothes in the bag, and we walk out to the bike.

  Memphis stashes it in a saddlebag, and we get back on the road.

  It’s a long ride before we stop again, and then it’s just a quick stop to gas up. I climb off the bike, and pull my helmet off. Memphis swings his leg over, and stands, digging in his pocket. He pulls out a money clip, peels off a twenty, and holds it out to me, lifting his chin to the mini-mart.

  “Get yourself a drink or whatever you want.”

  I take the bill. “You want something?”

  He unscrews the cap in his gas tank, lifts the nozzle from the pump, and shoves it in the opening. “I’ll take a Mountain Dew and a bag of chips.”

  I stroll inside and use the restroom, then grab his items, and get a water and banana from the small basket of fruit by the register. When I walk outside, Memphis has parked the bike at the edge of the property; both our helmets dangle from the handlebar. He’s reclined in the grass under the shade of a tree. His eyes follow me as I approach and hand him his items.

  “Thanks, doll.”

  I take a seat next to him, and as he cracks open his bottle and guzzles down a third of it, I watch his throat work with each gulp. I grin. “Thirsty?”

  He lowers the bottle. “Yup.”

  I peel the banana, and take a bite, watching the cars come and go. I feel his eyes on me, and turn to find him watching my mouth as I take another bite.

  He gets a stupid grin on his face, and I know what he’s thinking. I shove his shoulder. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  He chuckles. “Can’t help it. I know what that tongue of yours can do.”

  I roll my eyes, but can’t help smiling. “Grow up.”

  “Oh, it’s definitely growin’.”

  I take another bite, and throw the peel at his head.

  He laughs, and ducks as it sails over him.

  I take a sip of water as he tears into his bag of chips.

  He nods toward the mini-mart. “You know you turned the heads of several guys with that strut of yours.”

  “I do not strut.”

  “The hell you don’t. I’m not complaining, babe. It’s a damn fine strut, and a real sweet ass. Definitely a treat to watch.”

&nbs
p; “You are such a guy.”

  “Absolutely. Every last inch, babe.” He grabs his crotch, and flashes his teeth.

  “Oh, my God. Full of yourself much?”

  He chuckles again. “You’re cute when you blush.”

  “I do not blush.”

  “Oh, yeah, you do, especially when you get naked with a guy for the first time.”

  “First time? You act like there’ll be a second time.”

  “I know there will be.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  “We had something last night, and it was damn good. I’m not afraid to admit it. I’m gonna want more, and so are you, if you’re truthful.”

  “Think so, huh?”

  “Deny it, then.”

  I look away unable to disagree.

  “It’s a long trip back. We like each other. We click in bed. Might as well enjoy our time together, right? Nothin’ wrong with that. We’re both adults, goin’ into this with clear eyes.”

  “I suppose so.” I look over at him. “You’re a straight forward, cut-to-the-chase kind of guy, aren’t you?”

  He shrugs. “I’m an honest one.” He crumples up his bag, and gets to his feet, then holds his hand out to me. “Come on, we’re burnin’ daylight, and I’m hopin’ to make it at least past Ft. Worth tonight.”

  I let him pull me to my feet. Before I can step away, he drops his hand to my waist, and draws me to him. His lips descend on mine for a gentle kiss. When he pulls back, he looks in my eyes. “You don’t like my teasing, just say so, okay?”

  His glittering green eyes hypnotize me, and my throat closes up for some stupid reason. I can handle Memphis ribbing me, but his sweet side gets to me, and all I can do is nod around the tightness.

  “Hey?” He gives me a little shake. “You okay?”

  I push out of his arms, avoiding those penetrating eyes. “Sure. Fine. Let’s go.”

  We buckle on our helmets, and mount up, then head out for as far as the tank of gas will take us.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lola—

  The sun is setting by the time we stop for the night in some rinky-dink town in Texas.