by Snow, Nicole
Wise words. I'd forgotten about the streaks all over him, death paint left by friends and enemies alike. We headed into the infirmary and locked the door behind us. He sat down next to the big sink Em used for medical crap. I ran the faucet for him, trying not to go crazy as he peeled off his clothes, one piece at a time.
The blood hadn't penetrated his skin as badly as I thought. It was mostly his arms, his neck, and little flecks tangled in his dark brown hair. I ran my fingers through it, reaching for a sponge.
Sting groaned as I soaked it in warm water and blotted around his neck. Then I made the mistake of looking down at the huge erection straining in his jeans, unmistakable proof his blood was throttled with the same need coursing through me.
Let's get this over with, I thought, biting my bottom lips. Not that I wouldn't love to stand here and worship these muscles all day...
Understatement of the decade.
Jesus, he was hot. I worked the wet sponge in between the tight grooves of his inked up muscles, cleansing the sweat and blood dotting his skin, putting the killer to bed and reawakening a different beast. I wasn't sure whether my strokes were loving or shaking with pure lust.
He loved them either way, gently growling and rolling his head back. When I washed beneath his arms, he couldn't keep his hands off me, snarling as he cupped my ass and pulled me forward.
His mouth went up underneath my shirt, kissing at my belly. I laughed, trying to bat him away without melting into a puddle at his feet. His tongue raced up high, pushing my shirt up, shoving my bra aside and going for my breasts.
Holy shit! This is really it!
You know you've found the man you're meant to be with forever when he makes you feel like this after feeling death breathing down your neck.
Right now, there was something else pouring pure hot breath on my skin. This big, beautiful, unstoppable badass named Stinger. Death was no match, and neither was sorrow. He choked the life out of both those evil spirits with his kiss, his touch, his –
Shit!
His teeth found my nipple and sucked, lashing it with his tongue again and again. I tottered backward toward the stainless steel table, falling back when he rose.
Bath time was over. Thank God.
He fisted my hair and moved up for a kiss, smoothing his tongue on mine, straight up mouth-to-mouth fucking. I barely realized when he broke away, unable to concentrate on anything except the swollen ache between my thighs.
“It's my turn,” he growled, giving the sponge in one hand a rough squeeze. “Strip for me, baby. You're gonna have to let me run this shit over every inch of your sweet skin before you get my tongue, my dick...”
He flipped me over, rubbing my ass with his hips, making me feel how hard he was. Holy, holy shit.
What little shyness I had left went up in a fury, raw need lighting up every single nerve. I stripped fast, loving how he looked at me, nothing but two predatory eyes devouring me one atom at a time.
My jeans fell, and then my panties, the last thing to go. Not fast enough for him. Sting reached around to the gusset and yanked it, ripping soaked cloth down my legs, growling and brushing my tender neck with his stubble.
Oh. Shit.
I really was his. Owned. And really, truly happy to be possessed.
My nipples hardened and everything beneath my waist turned into a hot, wet morass, aligning to the rhythm he sent into my skin with every touch.
His erection rocked against my ass again. Another growl, and his fingers circled my thigh, moving swiftly between my legs. He found my clit and started to make the fierce, hypnotic strokes that never left me any choice but total surrender.
“You're gonna come for me, baby. Right here. Right now. Real fucking hard.” His teeth nicked my ear. “Then I'm gonna shove this dick inside you and find out how goddamned incredible you feel with nothing but your pussy wrapped around me. No condom this time. You've been taking that shit Em gave you, right?”
I nodded, trying not to draw blood out of my lip. He tweaked my nipple with his free hand, quickening the strokes with his fingers.
“Good girl. Keep it up too. Now that you're my old lady, I'm never using a fucking condom again. I wanna feel you deep, Alice, every beautiful inch. We're fucking all the time, skin-to-skin, and we're not stopping 'til your pussy cries for my load every damned day.”
God. Damn!
The tense strokes coupled with his rough words were officially too fucking much. My knees buckled and I held the edge of the table tight, hardly realizing what was happening as he sank to his knees, running his deliciously scratchy face across the backs of my thighs.
Sting buried his face in my cunt from behind. Sucking, tonguing, opening me with his fingers, his teeth close behind them. He wouldn't quit until my whole body was shaking, bobbing against the table. He pinned me down, holding my thighs open while his mouth did all the work, covering my clit in the steady wet flap of his tongue.
“Do it, Sting,” I moaned. “Make me fucking come. I wanna be your old lady and please you better than any of those stupid sluts ever –“
Oh. Fuck.
Jealousy only amped up the raging climax racing through my system.
Every muscle in my body tightened up and I couldn't gasp another word. He wanted me to come?
Fine. I'd go off hot, bright, and screaming, the best grand finale he'd ever seen.
There was no faking it. It came natural, my body losing itself in sharp bliss. All I could do was scream as he rammed his face deeper, lapping at my folds, slapping my clit with ferocious licks again and again and again.
Orgasm hit, explosive as all hell, volcanic as all the emotions he'd throttled through my body. It started in a red hot flush on my cheeks, and then everything in my belly exploded, resonating outward in a sultry rhythm that echoed my old man's power, his love, his passion.
I came.
Stinger growled with satisfaction, never letting up. His tongue kept working me deep, making me shudder on his face that much harder. My fingers balled white knuckled fists on the sleek cool table and I screamed, all I could do to handle the ecstasy ripping through me.
The terror and love of the past twenty-four hours melted in a blurry, breathless sacrifice to this man I'd chosen, the only one with the presence and power like the strongmen who lived in my head.
His grip on my legs tightened as I started to collapse. He flipped me around, helping me onto the table to rest. I wrinkled my nose, knowing I'd have to spray this place down or at least leave Em a note.
The infirmary definitely wasn't sterile anymore.
Stinger pushed between my legs, pulling me up, stamping more furious kisses on my lips, my throat, my breasts. I tasted faint traces of my own wetness on his mouth, melded with his musk, his taste, everything that was gloriously Stinger and Lucas Spears.
“Fuck this shit,” he growled, breaking away. “I'm not sliding into your bare pussy for the first time in a damned sick bay. Come on. Let's go to my old room.”
He let go and walked to the door, flinging it open. It was just a short distance down the hall, but I didn't want anyone else passing by and spotting me naked. And he was pretty close to nude himself with that crazy hard-on pulling at his jeans – not that the brothers cared who heard or saw them fucking.
“Hang on,” I said. “Just let me grab my –“
Sting rushed over and threw me across his shoulder. He carried me off before I could say another word, swinging me over his hard body. I started laughing, beating at his back, shocked to see the caveman come out. He grinned, slowing his steps, lingering next to the bedroom door way longer than we should've.
“Dick!” I said, giving him another slap. Didn't carry much weight when I was giggling like a stupid sorority girl.
“Nobody's gonna get more than a lucky eye full, baby. You're mine now. You always were. Anybody who wants to come closer's gonna have to kill me first.”
He gave the knob a twist and we were back in the spartan little room, the
first place I'd suffered with him while he held me close, warming away the icy sorrow I'd absorbed for twenty years.
I stopped play fighting. He spun me around and laid me down on the small bed, undoing his belt as he took his place between my legs. His eyes melted into mine.
All fire. All wild. All loving.
Definitely ready to fuck harder than we'd ever done it before.
My lips trembled once. He was on me with another animal kiss, unable to resist, burying me in tongue dancing goodness while I heard his belt rustling off.
Sting pulled back, showing off his painted chest, leaning to kick away his jeans. His boxers came next, and then he was right up against my wetness, all heat and masculine fury throbbing against my pussy.
“You ready to fuck like my old lady, baby?”
Sweet Jesus. I pursed my lips, wrapping my legs around his hard ass, giving him a little jerk with my ankles.
That did it. He rolled his hips back and then pushed into me. Just when I didn't think sex with this whirlwind could be any better, I realized how wrong I was.
Without the condom, I could feel...everything.
Every twitching inch, every spark in his muscles. Pleasure I barely imagined raced up my spine as he slid up to my womb, thumping his balls on my ass. I gushed, trying to hold back.
Just a few minutes of fucking was all it took before I let go and surrendered to the awesome waves exploding beneath my waist.
“Ah, baby. Fucking shit. You're so damned wet, so hot...” His temperature must've went up five degrees too as he pressed his lips to mine and drove his tongue deep. “Christ. I've never wanted to fill a pussy up so bad in my life.”
His hips rocked, slowly at first, then quickly picking up speed. He threw more weight into his thrusts. I was used to his power by now, loving it every time he shook my whole body, but I wasn't used to feeling him so deep.
My hands and feet locked on tight, riding the storm between my legs. It wasn't long before my hips gyrated against his, pulling him deeper still, melding his thrusts to my pussy.
Stinger growled, nipping at my neck, sucking so hard I knew I'd have a blemish there tomorrow. And I wanted one too.
It was an honor to be marked, branded. Before I took his tattoo and wore his patch, I needed to be claimed with his teeth, his stubble, the wildfire he kindled inside me.
“Give it!” I whined, pushing my neck to his mouth, throwing my hips into his harder. “Bite me when I come. Make me remember how hard we fucked tonight, Lucas.”
I reached up and scratched at his head. His growl vibrated through my breasts. The feel of his teeth pulling at my skin was the last thing I needed to fly off the edge.
Coming hard didn't begin to describe how I melted on his cock. Every muscle below my waist tightened up and convulsed, shaking on his cock, turning me into a whimpering, thrashing, clawing mess beneath him.
He fucked right through my orgasm and kept on going, grinding my clit each time he dove deep with his pubic bone. The poor bed beneath us howled.
I'd gotten more than I bargained for with that love bite. Once he was on me, he wouldn't let go, snarling like a wolf as he fucked his way to release.
Stinger came when I was just gliding down from my high. His cock stabbed deep and the earthquake stopped, one second of quiet before the flood.
And the flood – no, the fucking deluge – came a second after his dick swelled. He jerked, releasing the rough bite, throwing his head back and cursing. Hot seed flooded into me, fiery jets pumping up my pussy over and over and over.
“Fuck, baby girl. I'm gonna bust!”
Throwing myself right back over the cliff didn't take any effort at all. I grabbed on tight and pulled him deep, begging to take everything he gave me, feeling him in the deepest heat a man and woman can have.
He rooted himself deep, and my greedy pussy sucked out every last drop he could give me. When it was over, he held it in me for awhile, making slower strokes, fucking through the mingling of our juices.
“Shit, Alice. Everything you show me just keeps getting better.” He leaned in for another long, savage kiss.
I smiled when he pulled away. “I like the slow burn approach. Keeps you interested and here where you belong. Don't want my old man wandering to anybody else.”
That made him growl. He pulled out between my legs and rolled, shifting me on top of him, locking his hands on my back.
“I'm done with sluts forever, baby. You understand that?” The look in his eye was the same feral one I'd seen before he went off to kill the Slingers. “All I want forever's right here in my hands right now. Beautiful. Perfect. And all fucking mine.”
Mine.
That word echoed in my head as his lips smothered mine for the thousandth time that night. It was the deepest kiss yet, the one that went above and beyond all the crap we'd waded through to taste the sweetness.
“This is all I'm gonna need for the rest of my life, baby girl. Burn that into your pretty head and stop fussing. I knew the first time we kissed when I was flat on my back and fucked up with poison that I'd never get tired of this. Taking an old lady's as serious to me as wearing my colors. How much more fucking and kissing do we need for me to spell it out to you?”
I smiled as he shoved his mouth on mine again, rougher than before. His cock was already starting to feel harder against my thigh.
“Mm. Maybe just a little more. You know how forgetful I am.”
He blinked – probably wondering if I'd seriously said that – and then broke into a wide shit eating grin. “Baby, reminding you how much I love every inch of this tight little bod's a pleasure, not a chore. Even if you're coming on my dick for the millionth time. And God willing, someday you will be, and I'll be loving you just the same. I'd rather feel your pulse wrapped around my dick than the growl of my own Harley, and that's something I never thought I'd find with any chick.”
His eyes were so wide, so bright, spilling pure love into mine. I lost it. I kissed him first this time, reaching for his dick.
By the time the night was through, I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to even feel the nasty bruise Nero left on my cheek. I'd be too busy with the pleasurable love marks on my lips, neck, and breasts – and that was if I didn't feel the soreness between my legs first.
I didn't expect to wake up so early. Sting was still in a coma after coming four more times, always deep inside me. I reached between my legs and felt the heat he'd left there, one more way he'd marked me as his old lady for good.
The clubhouse was eerily quiet. There were a few times through the night when I swore I'd heard another couple loving their brains out as hard as us – probably Blaze and Saffron.
I smiled, easing myself away from Sting's bulk. He was so warm, snoring peacefully, it was hard to step away. But I had to get up after the buzz in my head.
Throwing on my clothes, I closed the door gently behind me and tip-toed out to the bar, grabbing a pencil and the little notepad Saffron used to organize things at the big parties. I found a clean page and started to sketch.
My fingers moved fast, hurting with the rough little motions, but I ignored it. Sex, safety, and a peaceful side of silence were all I needed to feel my muse purring, guiding my hand, outlining all the badasses on their steel horses beneath a familiar grinning devil.
When the rough blueprint was done, I held it up, nodding to myself. The empty spot on the wall where all the tables sat was the perfect place for a mural.
I was still gawking at my design and imagining it there, heating up the emptiness, when I heard footsteps. I flung the notebook on the countertop and looked up just in time to see Saffron wandering in.
She was in her robe, a few baggy marks under her eyes. She walked past me, straight to the coffee maker, and got the potent smelling brew going.
“How's the cut today?” I said cautiously. God, that coffee smelled good.
“Better.” She turned, flashing me a good morning smile. “Blaze was a total sweetheart last night.
I'm feeling a lot better about things today. We'll figure out the wedding crap later. Just don't tell Stinger he was right.”
I grinned, and then lost it just as fast when my next question came. “Any update on Moose?”
Saffron shook her head. “Not since last night. He's critical. Em's supposed to be heading over there with Tank to meet up with his girls and Roller. She says the best folks at the hospital are working on it. I trust her.”
I wasn't sure yet how Moose's tragedy fit into everything. It was glaring, brutal proof that some endings were meant to be bittersweet, the price these men and their old ladies had to pay from time to time for living this crazy life.
My head was still fuzzy with melancholy when the timer for the coffee beeped. Saffron poured two mugs and passed one to me across the counter, noticing the little notebook as she did.
“How'd this get over here?” She snatched it up before I could put my hand down and flipped it over. “Holy shit!”
Instant shame. I started to sweat the same way I did back in school, when everybody else saw my stuff for the first time. The teacher, a real hardass, always took his sweet time mulling things over before awarding me the highest score in the class.
“I got bored. Just a little something I busted out this morning. Couldn't shake it after last night, seeing all the Devils in action...”
“It's...shit, it's beautiful!” Saffron stammered.
I looked up. “You really mean that?”
“Mean it? Girl, I'm going to talk to Blaze when he finally drags himself in here. You need to show him this and get it in the clubhouse.” She sat the notepad down, then folded her arms, looking around the empty room. “This place could use some livening up. The brothers are getting older, getting paired up. Hell, getting married.”
Saffron winked and I laughed.
“What the fuck's so funny?” I turned just in time to see Sting rip the notepad off the counter. His jaw dropped. “Fuck me...you did this, baby?”
“I was going to wait until later for the big reveal. You wanted me to draw you something, right? Well, I did.” Watching Stinger lose himself in my work was the biggest surprise yet.
