Being Lost: Satan's Devils MC San Diego #1

by Manda Mellett

It was my tone of delivery. A suggestion offered in a matter-of-fact way as if I was giving it serious consideration that gets a look of shocked surprise on his face.

  He launches himself forward, hovering over me. “Only if I fuckin’ shave my face,” he tells me. “This is mine, okay? All fuckin’ mine.”

  His sudden burst of possessiveness is hot. My skin burns as he exhales a heated breath.

  So, okay, I won’t be looking for another man. That thought, that command, my immediate agreement to it, doesn’t worry me one bit. I doubt he’s going to disappoint.

  “Say you’re mine, Patsy. I want to hear it from your lips.”

  I want to tell him that maybe I should try out the goods before committing to anything, but already I know, what Lost is offering is so much more than I’ve ever had before. As his eyes stare into mine intently, I bite back my saucy comment, realising at my age, at this time in my life, I couldn’t have envisaged a man like this would want me. I should reach out and grab the chance with both hands.

  But still I hesitate. “We don’t even know where I’ll be this time tomorrow, in a week, in a month…”

  “You’re in my bed. And I’m going to move heaven and earth to make sure that’s where you’re going to stay, Patsy. Fuck, woman, I haven’t even had you yet, but my mind is made up. I want you. However long you want me to be yours.”

  It’s far too soon to make forever promises even if I didn’t have a crime boss intent on finding me. But I can’t deny there’s a connection with Lost that if things work out, I’d like to explore further. Sure, he can be an ass, but at least it seems when he is, he has the guts to admit it.

  “Yours,” I breathe out, realising it’s the only response I can make, knowing it’s right for this moment.

  He lowers his head, taking my lips in a kiss that leaves me bruised and feeling thoroughly ravished, and I love every minute of it. Then, finally, he moves down and satisfies my curiosity as to what difference a beard makes. Well, having no experience, I can make no comparison, but as his mouth works my clit, I have an insight into what the women in the books I read find so enthralling about oral sex.

  Sex with my ex had been polite. He wasn’t selfish, using his fingers to bring me off before moving on to the main event. I hadn’t been surprised that I didn’t orgasm with him inside me, my reading showing it was not uncommon at all. Magazine articles were full of women needing clitoral manipulation to get off, and I’d been too embarrassed to ask Phil for extra help.

  But I’d had pleasure and had enjoyed the closeness of the physical connection with a man. Even though his choice of position was limited to one, and it had only ever been with the lights off. I’d thought that was the most I could expect from sex.

  I was wrong, I think now, as Lost licks, sucks, nibbles and runs that beard over my clit, then changes things up just when I think I’m going to reach the peak I’m striving for, by moving down and thrusting his tongue inside me.

  I never really thought about the differences between tongues and fingers, never appreciated how different the former would feel. But I already know I’m going to be addicted, and hope Lost’s been truthful about how much he enjoys it, as I’m going to want to experience this, a lot.

  “Fuck, you taste good. Hope you’re enjoying this, babe, as I’m going to be down here for a while.”

  “Mmm mmm.” It seems I’m unable to make a coherent response.

  This time, when he moves his mouth back to my clit, he starts to push one of his thick fingers inside me.

  “Fuck me, you’re tight,” he comments, easing it in then out, gliding through my wetness which I worry isn’t as sufficient as it once was. “Hold on,” he tells me when I tense at the intrusion. Pushing himself up, he leans over and opens a bedside table, and takes something out.

  My eyes widen, then shut. I turn my head to the side as he opens a tube of lube. I’m embarrassed, never needing to use that before, but then the last time I had sex, I was two decades younger.

  “Babe?” he queries. “Look at me.” When I do, he continues, “What’s up?”

  “That’s not sexy,” I cry out, unable to stop myself.

  “Babe,” he reproaches me. “I’m big, you’re tight. It’s been fuckin’ years for you. Neither of us are as young as we were. And I need to ask you, I’m clean, but do I need a condom or not? What’s your preference?”

  I suppose we need to have this conversation, and maybe should have had it before. “Lost, I…” my voice falters. Telling him the symptoms of my age creeping up on me doesn’t seem the right time or place. It’s an admission that while my mind is as excited as any teenager embarking on a new romance, my body isn’t able to keep up.

  “Patsy,” he interrupts. “If you’re expecting a young stud who can go for repeat rounds and keep it up all night, then you’re going to be disappointed. I’ve not got the stamina I had once and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

  “I’m going through menopause,” I tell him fast, as though ripping off a Band-Aid. “It’s been months since I had a period, but I don’t know if I’m still at risk of falling pregnant or not.

  “Condom it is then, babe, unless,” he looks at me and winks, “you want to take a risk.”

  A baby at my age? My horrified expression gives him the response he needs. “I’d love to fuck you bare, Patsy. But that’s got to wait. If I were younger, I’d love a baby, but now? Hell, I’ll just have to enjoy our grandkids.”

  Ours. That word, that indication that we could have a future, the suggestion that I’ll have a man by my side when my children give me grandbabies, I know I’d like that.

  “And for now,” he picks up the lube again, “we make our own sexy, babe.” With that, he again lowers his head, lapping my natural lubricant I am still producing, feeling him licking me clean, then he raises his head, grinning broadly.

  Glancing down, I see his beard glistening with my juices. Another wink, then he’s back, attacking and teasing my clit, making my thighs clench against him, my stomach muscles flutter, my mouth open wide as the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had makes me see stars.

  He continues to lick and suck and I feel his fingers push inside, this time, with no resistance, and some part of my brain realises he must have applied a generous amount of lube. Then I’m incapable of rational thinking as he finds a place inside me that I hadn’t believed existed.

  An internal pressure, another suck to my clit and I’m screaming aloud.

  I feel him lift away from my body and force myself to open my eyes and watch as he lowers the zipper of his jeans.

  Seeing me staring, he slides off the bed and, tortuously slowly, eases out of his pants, pulling his underwear down at the same time, allowing his cock, surrounded by greying pubic hair to jut free and proud.

  I gulp, more than grateful he’s applied the lubricant now. His eyes are locked on mine. In turn, I’m mesmerised as he tears open a condom with his teeth, then smooths the latex down. When he’s covered that part of his anatomy, he squeezes another large dollop of lube onto his hand, and applies it to the outside of the condom, catching my eye and smirking as he treats me to a show, gliding his hand up and down slowly.

  The knowledge I need it is an unwelcome reminder of how my body’s changing with age. Lost’s casual acceptance, his willingness to adapt, takes the awkwardness away. His slow masturbation is heating me more.

  “Ready for me?” He leans over me once more, his lips brushing across mine. His biceps thicken, as he takes his weight on his arms.

  “So ready,” I breathe.

  He folds down to one elbow, freeing a hand which he uses to guide his hard cock to my entrance, then slowly, he starts to push in. It’s my turn to hiss at the invasion, a feeling I’ve not experienced in years.

  His face is a mask of concentration as he pulls up one of my legs, opening me more fully. His mouth thins, his eyes squeeze closed as he gains ground with small advances and then retreating.

  When he starts massaging my clit, I j
erk, my action taking more of him inside me. He opens an eye, grins, and rotates his hips, pushing forward as he does so. If that’s not made him bottom out inside me, I’m worried about how much more I could take.

  “Fuck, babe. You feel so good, like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lost

  She’s as tight as an untried virgin, or what I suspect one would feel like. As I bottom out inside her, and she squeezes around me, I can’t remember anything feeling this good before. When I tell her I feel like I’d died and found my own slice of heaven, she looks shocked.

  As am I, when her fist bumps my arms. “Don’t you dare die on me now, Lost. Will you please move for God’s sake?”

  I can’t help it, I laugh. Fuck, the touch of fun she’s bringing to a physical action elevates it to a place I’ve not visited before.

  “Like this?” I draw out slightly, mentally mapping that spot I’d found which I’m pretty sure by her reaction was uncharted territory for her. When I push back in, I aim for it carefully, reading by her gasp and startled expression I’ve not missed my mark.

  I do it again, adding that swivel to my hips, a sharp thrust that has her gasping, clutching at me, her head thrown back.

  “Can you take more?” I ask, finding it hard to hold myself back, but the last thing I want to do is to hurt her.

  “Give me what you’ve got,” she demands.

  I quicken my pace, upping my game. As I start to put more effort into it, hammering into her, I realise I won’t be able to keep this up for long, she feels so damn good. While I’ve not gone without for the same number of years as she has, it’s been more than one since I was last inside a woman, and never one like her. I can feel those telltale signs, my balls drawing up and my cock so hard it’s ready to blow, but I’m not leaving her behind when I go over. I rub furiously on her nub of nerves, rewarded when I feel her muscles tense, her eyes close and her mouth opens wide.

  “Eyes. Look at me, babe,” I growl. “Want to see you come.”

  “I won’t come,” she warns me. “No need to wait.”

  Fuck, yeah, she will. That’s if I’ve got anything to do with it. I grit my teeth, my body vibrating with the effort as I hold myself back while making sure I hit that spot every damn time.

  “Lost?” she cries out as her pussy starts clenching. “Lost?” she wails as if realising her body’s no longer under her control.

  I’m about to lose it, so I pinch her clit, rotate my hips and call on every fucking trick in my repertoire. Lowering my face, I suck hard on a nipple and bite it.

  “Lost!” This time her voice screams my name loudly. Her hands clutch at the comforter, her eyes close and her body all but jerks off the bed.

  That’s it. I can hold back no longer. Her pulsating cunt takes me over with her. Cum shoots from my dick into the condom, spurt after spurt as I make up for months of abstinence myself.

  I continue pushing my dick into her, little jerks until my cock is sated and starts to soften, until I’ve extended her pleasure and there’s nothing left for her to milk anymore.

  “Patsy?” I ask, when her eyes remain squeezed tightly shut. “Hey, babe,” I ask again, seeing a tear emerge.

  “I just… Lost, that was… Lost?”

  Letting my cock slide out, holding the condom to me, I lean forward so I can take her mouth. She reacts tiredly to my kiss. I’m no longer ravishing her lips, just caressing them in an outpouring of emotion caused by the act we both shared.

  “Yeah, babe. That was…” I struggle to describe it myself, then think, darn, why do we have to? Why put a name to something so perfect? “I’m just going to deal with this.”

  Patsy murmurs something unintelligible, which I interpret as agreement as I go to the bathroom and dispose of the condom and give my cock a quick rinse in the sink. Taking a washcloth, I wet it in warm water, then return to the bed. Patsy’s still lying just how I left her, limbs akimbo. When I gently wash the lube and her juices away, she sighs. Retracing my steps, I throw the used cloth in the laundry bin.

  All the time, I’m thinking.

  I don’t want her to leave and go back to her own room. I want to hold her in my arms all night. Kim hadn’t been a cuddler, but I am, and I’d hazard a guess that Patsy is too. I’m trying to frame the right words to say to convince her to spend the night, but when I get back into the bedroom, I have to smother my laughter.

  Patsy’s turned onto her side with the comforter pulled over her. Her eyes are closed, and her gentle breathing suggests she’s already succumbed to sleep.

  I don’t hesitate before sliding in behind her, pausing for just a moment then think, fuck it, and take the risk of moving closer to her, and draping my arm over her naked chest. She sighs with contentment and unconsciously presses back against me.

  Perfect. There’s nothing better than the feeling of skin on skin, I muse, noting sleepily as we spoon, we fit as though we were made for each other.

  Like any man after a momentous release, I’m sleepy as fuck. It doesn’t take long before I join her in slumber.

  I sleep like the fucking dead. Snake doesn’t appear in my nightmares, in fact, I have no dreams at all. I’m dead to the world until I’m woken by a loud rap on my door, followed by a voice.

  “You in there, Prez? We need you.”

  “Yeah, Toke. I’ll be there in a sec.”

  “What’s going on?” Patsy jerks awake, turning to me with wide eyes, as if rapidly trying to work out where she is, and what I’m doing there.

  Before I answer, I lower my face, intent on kissing her.

  She tries to move away, covering her mouth. “Morning breath.”

  “Don’t give a fuck,” I tell her, my hand gripping her chin. “Give me those lips, babe.” She complies, and I partake. Sure, we could probably have done with brushing our teeth first, but I couldn’t resist. Long before I’ve had my fill of her, I pull away. “Gotta run, babe.”

  “Lost,” she calls as I stand. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She bites her lip, looking remorseful.

  “Babe, don’t fuckin’ apologise. Best sleep I’ve ever had with you in my arms.”

  She focuses on my morning wood, jutting out and fully erect. “You really got to go right now?” Then, having been so bold, she lowers her eyes.

  I chuckle. “If I could stay, I would. But if Token’s got news for me, I need to hear it. You’re good to stay here, babe.”

  “I might,” she counters. “Your bed is so comfortable.”

  It should be. I spent a fortune on that mattress hoping it would banish my bad dreams. Seems all I needed was the company of one special woman to make it work for me. I make a decision on the spot.

  “Move your stuff in here, babe.”

  “What?” She pushes her bed hair out of her face, and sits up, hugging the comforter against her.

  I shrug. “I want you in my bed, Patsy.” I told her she was mine, but I don’t think she believed it. “We’re not teenagers, babe. We don’t have to tiptoe around pretending this isn’t what it is. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms every night, after I’ve fucked you senseless that is.”

  “Wow,” she states, breathily. “You say it how it is.”

  Again my shoulders rise and fall, and my mouth curves up in a grin. “Up to you, babe. But I’ve said my bit.”

  “I might be leaving…”

  She might, but if I get my way, she won’t.

  “If I move my stuff in, sleep with you every night, it will make it harder to go.”

  That right there is my hope. But first I’ve got to make sure it’s safe for her, that she doesn’t need to run anymore. That starts with me getting my ass moving. “I’ll make this right,” I promise her, as I open the drawer, finding a clean t-shirt and underwear, then, show her my ass as I walk toward the bathroom.

  It’s only minutes later that I return, showered and dressed. I’ve been thinking of arguments I could use to get her to stay with me, but fo
r now I’ll need to keep those to myself.

  She’s fast asleep.

  I exit the room, closing the door quietly. The first person I see is Dan.

  “Have you seen Mom?” He’s exiting her room. “She’s not downstairs, and not in there.” He waves his hand behind him.

  “She’s sleeping,” I tell him truthfully, my head jerking toward the door I’ve just come out of. I raise an eyebrow toward him in challenge. Best get this out in the open right now.

  His eyes go wide. “She… You… My mom, Lost?”

  For a moment I tense my muscles in preparation for a fist. But then, his expression relaxes, and he looks resigned. “Don’t hurt her, Lost. She, er, with my dad, she hasn’t had a good record with relationships.”

  I could brush him off, but I don’t. “Dan, look, Patsy’s spoken to me about Phil. He was wrong for her from the start. If I do anything, it will be to show her what she’s been missing. This isn’t a casual thing for me, nor, I hope, for her. I want her to stay, and if she does, my desire is to make this permanent.”

  “It’s what she deserves, Lost. But…” his words trail off.

  “But am I the right man for her?” It’s a question I can’t answer. I want to say yes, but at the root of it, I’m Lost. Mindful I’m late to meet Token, I start moving my feet. As I pass him, my hand lands on his shoulder. “Only time will tell.” Time, and whether I can get rid of Alder.

  Speeding up my steps, I go quickly to Token’s office. Computers whir, but the man himself is nowhere in sight. I exit again and spy Wrangler.

  “They’re in church,” he calls out.

  Church? I haven’t called a meeting. Knowing I’m not yet senile, and I won’t have forgotten, I continue to the meeting room, mystified that they’ve taken the unusual step of assembling without me. I’m curious, not concerned.

  At least they’ve waited to start their discussion. Brothers are milling around, drinking coffee or even beer. Dart’s hovering near the doorway.

  “Prez,” he leans in and speaks into my ear, “Token’s got some info. He brought it to me as you were,” he pauses, grins, then continues, “otherwise engaged. I thought you’d want everyone in on this.”