Frost (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 3)

by Candace Blevins

  I couldn’t look at him anymore. I stared at my plate to tell him the rest. “Yet, unless it was one of the really big guys, I kept having orgasms despite the pain. I went home and changed after that weekend, spent the night as a cat and was about two hours late getting to the jobsite the next morning. I didn’t go back to the clubhouse until Wednesday night. Squatch bent me over and took my ass first thing, then Clean, and by the time Dementor wanted me, I was so damned sore, and he was so fucking rough. He pulled out of me and spanked me with his hand while he told me to stop screaming like a fucking banshee, and I guess the name stuck. It was the first time I’d been spanked since I was a child, and it...” I couldn’t say the rest.

  “It turned you on?”

  I stared at my plate and nodded. “I didn’t know what was wrong with me.”

  “Nothing’s wrong with you. It’s completely normal. Why did you agree to anal sex and being spanked? I’ve watched the video they did before your initiation weekend.”

  What did he see in the micro-expressions? I’d been so nervous that day, I figured they’d scent my fear and wouldn’t be able to tell when I wasn’t being completely honest. Would Frost’s visual cues act the same? I didn’t know.

  “I filed for divorce a few months before the battle. It came through a couple of days before the worst of the fighting, but Gil still took me with him to the Pack grounds, to keep me safe. At first, I helped with the kids, and helped keep his kids from freaking out too much. When they asked for more people to go fight a week or two later, I answered the call and fought with the wolves. Then, when the battle was over, Gil seemed to think we were going to get back together. I had sex with him and it wasn’t...” I sighed. “It wasn’t the same. It didn’t do anything for me. I’d moved out of the house and into an apartment when I filed for divorce. I didn’t want to uproot the kids from the house, so I’d left, instead of asking him to move out.”

  He looked interested, but I worried I was talking too much about my ex. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about him, but it’s the only way to answer your questions.”

  “You’re fine. Keep going.”

  “I bought my house, ripped out walls and floors, and hired people to put them back in. I bought new furniture. It has seven bedrooms, so I let the kids each decorate their own room – gave them a budget to keep inside of and spent a weekend with each one, ordering and buying stuff.” I blew out a breath. “And then Gil bought the house next door. We run the business together without any major issues, and we’re still doing a good job with the kids. I don’t have official visitation, but he lets them come when they want, assuming they aren’t in trouble. I won’t let them use my house to get out of consequences. We’re on the same page, usually, when it comes to discipline. Having him close makes it easier on the kids, but it bothered me, at first. I needed to, I don’t know, make the break between us bigger? So I started spending weekend nights at the clubhouse, and sometimes weeknights, if I wasn’t terribly tired. I’d come home from the clubhouse and change, to try to cut down on how much sex the kids smelled on me, but Nora’s smart. She knew more than I realized.”

  “So why did you agree to everything on the entry video?”

  That damned video. The MC covers themselves in much the same way the porn industry does when they film BDSM flicks. Before you can be a sweetbutt, you have to go on camera and state everything you know will be done to you, and how much you’re looking forward to it. You have to say all your holes will be available for anyone wearing a cut, or anyone they tell you to service. You have to list the rules, and say that it’s good the club reinforces them with consequences, so everyone knows they have to be followed. You have to talk about the consequences — being spanked, or having to run a train, or being tied up for a while, and how cool you think shibari is. At the end, there’s a discussion about the safeword, and how you know you can say it and walk out, no matter what.

  “I’d been there for parties, and then several nights in a row as a trial-run. A few people had fingered my ass, and someone put a small plug in me for a little while, but no one tried to fuck me there. Squatch gave me a hand-spanking when I gagged on his cock and nearly puked, but the spanking hadn’t been too bad. Honestly? I thought it was more about ya’ll having something to hold over me so I wouldn’t tell any secrets, than it was about, you know, actually agreeing to all of that shit.”

  “But you didn’t safeword during your initiation?”

  “No. It was both heaven and hell, at the same time. If I’d have safeworded and left, I’d have regretted it for the rest of my life. As it is, I have no real regrets. I mean, I should’ve talked to Mad Dog and stopped coming maybe two weeks before I walked out, so I regret that part, but I’m glad I had the overall experience. I needed to be a complete sexual being for a while to break out of being someone’s wife. I can’t explain it any better than that.”

  “And since?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “Okay. You don’t have to. I think I’m an open book, but in case I’m not, after months in jail, I needed to sink into a warm female. You were my favorite, but I didn’t pay attention to why you were my favorite. I’m sorry about that.” He took a drink, considering. “I haven’t been as sexually active since you left. I mean, I’ve had sex several days a week, but not every day. I’ve been covered up with work. Mad Dog sent a sweetbutt to me a few times when he heard I was getting irritable, and that was nice, but sex hasn’t been the only thing on my mind for the past couple of months.”

  I’d smelled a few women on him at the jobsite, but he must’ve changed before our dinner the other night, and before he’d picked me up for our ride, because I didn’t smell a whole bunch of people on him.

  “Until I married a wolf, I thought monogamy was silly. It didn’t make sense. However, for the wolves, it becomes a way to show your partner you hold them above everyone. I haven’t considered the possibility of another long-term relationship, so I’m not sure how I’ll feel about it eventually, but I was happy being Gil’s, and only Gil’s, while it lasted. Knowing I was the only person he’d be intimate with made our relationship... I don’t know. More.”

  He tilted his head and I could sense the owl and the man looking out. “Owls are monogamous. During breeding season it’s either one male and one female, or one male and two females, depending on how much food is available. But, even when they go the poly route, they don’t screw around with anyone else. Most owl species don’t mate for life, but snowy owls often do.” He sighed. “I’m almost embarrassed to admit I’ve never been monogamous with anyone.”

  “No need to be embarrassed. It’s who you are.”

  Chapter Eight

  Frost

  So, did I fuck her ass or not? She didn’t offer, but she didn’t tell me not to, and she refused to tell me about her experiences in recent months. Was her love of anal part of the phase she’d been going through? Was she over it, now?

  We finished eating and I figured I’d have to come clean about hoping we had sex. Or, at least that I’d prepared for it.

  “I brought condoms. The odds of a mammal and bird procreating are slim, but—”

  “I detest condoms,” she said. “Just make sure you pull out. The odds are slim if you come in me, and they’re infinitesimal if you come on me. I asked that they be used in my pussy when I was a sweetbutt, but I was fucking lots of mammals, too, so it was easier to require it of everyone. Besides, my worst nightmare would be to get pregnant and not know who the father is.”

  The dishes only took a few minutes, and I went to the bedroom, undressed, and then walked through the cabin, out the back door onto the screened-in portion of the deck, removed the hot-tub’s lid, turned it on, and climbed in.

  Cheyenne followed me out a few minutes later, also naked, and with four towels. I should’ve thought of that.

  “Good thinking. You’ve done this before.”

  “I have a hot tub on a deck off my master bedr
oom. The cat thinks I’m crazy.” She sank into the water, and I willed my dick not to get hard yet.

  “How do owls feel about water? I researched snowy owls, but even if other owl species swim, I don’t imagine your kind appreciates getting into freezing water.”

  “My owl can swim if he has to, but his feathers aren’t waterproof, so they get heavy. We can’t fly until they dry, so we prefer to stay out of the water. As a human, I enjoy the water.” I touched her foot with mine. “Another piece of owl trivia — we fuck either face-to-face or a modified doggie style. The female can lie on her back with her wings spread, and the male fucks her basically like humans fuck. Or, he can come up behind her on a tree branch and do her that way. Either works.”

  “Yeah, cat’s only do it kitty style — laying down, the guy behind. I’m glad people have more options. It’s kind of cool that owls do — I wonder if other animals can do it more than one way?”

  “Ducks and geese can do it mid-air. Owls can’t manage that.”

  “It must be heaven to fly.”

  “It is. I make a trip to Canada a few times a year so I can fly to my heart’s content. Dementor and Clean usually go with me, so they can roam in bear form.” I sighed, because there used to be a larger group of us. We’d lost so many people during the battle. It still hurt.

  “Why are you sad?” she asked.

  “Just remembering the people we lost. What got you into art?”

  “I’ve always been an artist. It’s in my blood. I’m just thankful I found a way to support myself with my art.”

  We talked for two hours before we got out of the hot tub. We both wanted a cool shower, and I didn’t ask her if she wanted to take one together — I picked her up, threw her over my shoulder, and walked to the bathroom.

  She slapped my wet naked ass a few times to try to get me to put her down, and I told her, “You keep that up and I’ll assume you’re asking for a spankin’.”

  Three more strikes, harder than the others, and she stopped. Had she thought she wanted one and changed her mind? I had no idea. I held onto her while turning the water on, and I finally stepped into the huge fucking shower and set her on her feet in front of me. Before she could find her balance, I wrapped my arms around her, pressed her against the tile, and leaned down, my lips on hers. I moved a hand up to the back of her head, holding her. Dominating her.

  This time, there was no doubt I was controlling the situation, and she opened and let me in. I finally let my dick get hard, and I had to suppress a groan because I hadn’t been this hard in ages. It was on the edge of painful, but that was okay. Damn, I wanted to sink inside this woman.

  Maybe I was too used to the sweetbutts, because I wasn’t sure how to get started with her. With the club’s girls, I pointed where I wanted them, pulled a skirt up or pants down, and sank into them.

  But this was Cheyenne, and it was supposed to be us together as a couple. As partners.

  I’m not sure that’s ever been who I am though. I’ve always just taken what I wanted. I mean, not if they protested, because I’m not interested in rape, but.... fuck. I was overthinking this.

  I stepped back. “Do you want to soap me first, or shall I soap you first?”

  She grinned. “I’ll go first.”

  I stepped out from under the flowing water and held my hands a little away from my body. She grabbed a washcloth from the rack just outside the shower, soaped it up, and leaned to wash my foot, ankle, shin and calf, knee — all the way to my hip. She moved to the other leg, and when she reached my other hip, she methodically washed my balls and dick. One swipe, almost as you’d expect a medical professional to clean someone. She moved behind me, washed my ass cheeks, and moved to my back. My arms were next, then my abs and my chest.

  “Rinse.”

  It was an order, but I did it anyway. She handed me the washcloth and stepped to the same spot I’d been, and lifted her arms.

  I tried for the same detachment, but I didn’t pull it off. Her outer pussy lips and nipples were cleaned a little better than the rest of her body. Also, I couldn’t resist a single swipe between her butt cheeks — just because.

  And no, we weren’t dirty, but I know I always want to rinse the hot tub chemicals off, and it seemed she did, too.

  She dried me first, and she took longer making sure my cock and balls were dry than was absolutely necessary. I dried everything except her pussy on the way up. When I got to her nipples, I licked them dry. Her already flat belly pulled in and she caught her breath, but she didn’t tell me not to.

  She put her hair in a towel. I ran one over my head a few times until my hair didn’t drip, and called it good.

  “I feel like there’s a wet spot between your legs that needs special attention,” I told her as I lifted her into my arms. She leaned into me, but didn’t grab me. She trusted me to hold her.

  Cheyenne

  He settled me in the center of the king-sized bed, crawled between my legs, and licked between my lips. Since I’d changed and come back to human, I was hairy, but he didn’t seem to mind. Strong fingers spread my lips apart, and the heat of his tongue licked me all over between them. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, or my feet. I grabbed under the headboard, and propped my feet on his shoulders and he didn’t tell me not to.

  “Fuck, that feels good.”

  He’d never eaten me out. Never. Gears had a time or two, but none of the other bikers had.

  Frost used those long, skillful fingers and his warm, rough tongue, and my world narrowed so that was all that mattered. My pulse raced, my insides clenched, my hips thrust and moved, but I couldn’t quite reach an orgasm.

  Frustration wanted to set in, but I knew Frost could get me off. This wasn’t going to be like the other men I’d fucked after I walked away from the club — I’d enjoyed the sex, but I couldn’t climax. Frost had made me come before, surely he could do it again. I didn’t have to panic.

  When he finally rose over me and put his cock at my entrance, our gazes locked a few seconds before he sank into me, and it felt as if his gaze penetrated me as much as his oh-so-fat cock.

  “You’ve never gone slow before.”

  “Never wanted to make sure I remembered every second before.”

  He pressed all the way in and held, stretching me wide. I’d forgotten how intense he was when he was all the way inside, opening me more than anyone ever had. I grabbed the blanket under me in my fists and arched my back. My walls squeezed and throbbed around his hard, fat length. “Fuck, Frost.”

  He didn’t move. “Giving me orders?”

  “No.” I let go of the blanket with my right hand and touched his wrist, near my head. His arms were straight. His body above me. I caressed his arm and felt the rock-hard muscles.

  “You’re holding back? Why?”

  “Giving you time to get used to me.”

  “Why?”

  He bent his arms, leaned his head down, and kissed my forehead. “You’re special. Need to show you.”

  “You’ve done that. The helmet. Waterfall. Dinner. Hot tub. Conversation. Please, Frost. I need you to just fuck me now. If I don’t have an orgasm tonight, I’m going to cry.”

  I was horrified as soon as the words came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t take them back. He hesitated a good three seconds before he pulled out, slammed home, and fucked me hard. I had no time to be emotional from my over-share, because nothing existed in the world except Frost’s cock, fucking owning me. Bodies slapping. Friction. The world spun and went fuzzy, my entire body went hot.

  I felt the orgasm building, felt myself right on the edge, but then it went away. I was still horny as fuck, but no longer on the edge of an orgasm, and I cried out in frustration.

  “That’s it, Cheyenne. Not yet. You’ll come when I’m ready for you to, and not a minute before. Hold it back for me. Not yet.”

  My arousal went from fifty to one hundred in the blink of an eye, and I was suddenly close again.

  “Please!” I h
ad no idea if I was begging him or ordering him. Or possibly both at the same time.

  Either way, he didn’t disappoint.

  “Not yet. Almost. Hang onto it for me. A few more seconds.”

  He leaned so his weight was all on one arm, lifted his other hand, grabbed my nipple, and then squeezed, twisted, and pulled all at the same time. It felt as if it might come off, but it also felt like he pulled on my clit through my damned nipple.

  “Now, Cheyenne. Let me feel that cunt clamp down on my dick.”

  And finally, after months without an orgasm, my body let loose, and it was as if every denied orgasm came out, all at once, engulfing me in heated ecstasy. Raw pleasure. I screamed and writhed and pumped under him, and Frost fucked me into the mattress the entire time while he told me how good my cunt felt, wrapped around his dick.

  It felt like the neverending-orgasm, and when it finally waned and I thought that was it, he switched to the other nipple. “Not yet. I didn’t say you could stop. Come for me, my loud little kitty. That’s it. Let me hear your pleasure and pain.”

  And that was it. Pleasure and pain, at the same time, until I didn’t know where one stopped and the other started.

  When he finally let me stop orgasming, he grabbed my legs, pushed my knees into the mattress near my ears, and pounded me harder and faster.

  “You’ll take what I need to give you, won’t you? No orgasms until I say so. You don’t want to try me on this.”

  Frost

  I gave her seven orgasms, and I let myself have three. I pulled out, as she’d asked, and I was all too happy to scent mark her belly, rubbing it in instead of wiping it clean.

  I didn’t make it into her ass, but that was okay because I’d savaged both tits and her clit while I obliterated her cunt. She cried through her fifth orgasm, and it was glorious. I had no idea what’d changed since she’d been Banshee, but something had. She needed pain now, and she needed me to tell her when she could come. I was thrilled with both developments.