His mouth traveled down from my lips, down my neck and he was using his teeth to tug my clothes off. His fingers had slipped under my t-shirt, and he was unclasping my bra. Soon, my breasts were in his hands, and he was teasing my nipples, playing with them, pinching. I gasped and moaned, parting my legs to welcome him in.
Marco was lying on top of me now, stretched out over my body, wedged between my legs.
I parted my mouth with desire when I saw his hands slip in under my jeans. Within moments he had found my throbbing wet pussy, and he stroked my clit furiously. I writhed and moaned, thrilling in the pleasure of having his hands roughly tease my clit and pussy. I could feel my wetness seeping out of my folds and covering his fingers.
His forefinger slipped into me, stroking me, sliding in and out of my folds. I reached for his mouth, tugging at his lower lip with my teeth. He laughed as I nuzzled his beard with my chin. His fingers were still under my pants, stroking and fondling my pussy to the point of no return.
“Marco!” I sighed his name, and with his other hand, he started undoing the button on my pants. I reached for his jeans too, undoing them hurriedly and pulling them down over his butt. I grabbed his butt and pressed him closer to me so that now I could feel his cock digging into my belly tightly.
I was panting, out of breath with desire, while his fingers continued to work away at my pussy.
“I want you inside me,” I breathed the words and Marco’s hand stopped working. He looked into my eyes, and his dark eyes were shining brightly.
“I’m always going to give you what you want, beautiful,” he said with a grunt, and within seconds, he was peeling my jeans down over my knees, pulling my panties down along with it.
We were still relatively clothed, except for our groins. Both our pants were pulled down, and his cock was digging into the insides of my thighs. I could feel its throbbing dangerous heat, the tip of his cock covered and glistening with his precum.
“Quinn, you are beautiful,” he said, and his large warm hands were on my thighs, gently prying them apart. I weaved my fingers into his thick shaggy dark hair. We were looking at each other, and I couldn’t remember ever feeling this emotional while being fucked. It was probably because Marco hadn’t taken his gaze away from me, our eyes were locked. Or it could be because now I was desperately and completely falling for him. There was no going back from this.
Marco thrust his cock into me, as my legs wrapped around his waist. I felt him slide into me smoothly and I gasped. His cock was big and thick inside me, pumping repeatedly. Our bodies made a loud clapping sound as he pushed deeper into me with every passing moment. I could feel him stroking my G Spot, he had found it easily.
“Come for me, beautiful,” I heard him grunt, while he kept thrusting. His fingers were on my clit, while his cock was in my pussy. He was stroking me, rubbing his fingers over and over again on my clit so that I felt raw now, throbbing with need for more.
He didn’t stop thrusting his cock into me, sliding in and out and making my pussy tremble with the force of an orgasm that was fast approaching.
“Marco! Please!” I screamed, and I didn’t even know what I was asking for.
“Come for me,” he said as he moved his hips, thrusting his cock into me. I came with force, making my toes curl as I felt my orgasm washing over me. My nails dug into his back as my body moved and shook. I was screaming his name, leaving marks on his body with my grip.
I could feel myself repeatedly coming, one after the other while he continued pumping into me. Marco came then too, shooting his seed deep into me. He growled and clutched my hips, his fingers dug into my skin tightly, and he was pinning me down to the couch, while he drained himself into me.
I tightened my legs around his waist, holding him close as we came together. I could feel our sweat glistening on our bodies, our breaths misled together while our orgasms finally began to subside.
Marco crashed down on me, and I wrapped my arms around him. We were both out of breath, sucking in mouthfuls of air into our lungs. He had his cheek down on my breasts, slowly tracing an imaginary design on my bare skin with his fingers.
I was still breathing hard when he spoke again.
“Next time, I promise I’m going to take it slow. This time I couldn’t control myself, I hope I didn’t hurt you, babe,” he said.
He’d called me babe, I meant something to him! It was all happening so fast, but it felt so right. I could feel my cheeks flushing when he looked up at me, and I smiled.
“I don’t want you to take it slow, Marco, I like it like this. I like everything about you,” I said, and I hadn’t even gotten all the words out before he kissed me again.
Epilogue
Marco
One Year Later
My brothers and I were riding back from the docks to the Rusty Pelican. Another shipment had been received smoothly, things were peaceful for the Bad Disciples these days. Whatever small skirmishes that the Four Skulls and the Dragon Knights had caused lately, had easily been crushed down by us. They didn’t stand a chance against us anymore. They were done for good, and everyone knew it, including them.
We parked our bikes outside the bar and walked in together. Axel and some of the older guys were having drinks at the counter, and they greeted us when we walked in.
“First task as a newly patched member, how did it go, Marco?” one of the guys asked as we walked up towards them. I had finally been patched in from being a prospect four days ago.
“No, Marco’s first task as a newly patched member was to drive Quinn to the store so she could pick out curtains,” Glock joked, and he thumped my back. The others laughed, and I shook my head as I stuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
The fact that I was in a relationship with the president’s daughter had sunk into everyone now. I wasn’t walking on thin ice anymore. Over the course of the year, I had proven over and over again that I deserved to be with Quinn and we were good for each other.
She had started working in Los Angeles recently for a tech company and permanently moved back to her hometown in Long Beach. Something which she had always assumed she would never to do. I didn’t want to stay in her way and her career, but she had insisted. She wanted us to live together, she didn’t want us to spend a single day apart. Of course. Fuck long distance relationships. I wanted my woman in my home, where I could see her every day and claim her body every night.
Drinks were being passed around when the doors of the bar opened, and Quinn walked in. She had just returned from work and was in a fancy suit, with a cream silk blouse underneath. Her hair was tied tightly in a classy bun at the back of her head, and she was walking straight in my direction.
I smiled at her, and she came over to hug me. I kissed her lightly on her lips. There was no way I was doing anything more than that in front of her father there.
“Ready to go?” she asked, and I nodded. I’d made plans for dinner at her favorite restaurant that night.
“Yeah, I just got back. Let’s get outta here,” I said, and I gulped most of the beer down my throat.
Placing a hand on Quinn’s waist, I was leading her away to the door of the bar while she waved at the others and said her goodbyes.
I slipped a hand into the pocket of my pants and checked for the small velvet box again, feeling its smooth softness on my fingers. There was a glittering diamond ring inside the box, the exact one Quinn had looked at in a shop’s window three weeks ago. I’d seen her eyes glowing when she saw it, and I knew it was the one. I’d dropped her to the apartment and gone back to the store immediately.
It had been three weeks that I was carrying the ring around in my pocket but tonight was the night. I had Axel’s blessings, and I knew I couldn’t wait anymore. I was going to ask her, and I knew what her answer was going to be. I couldn’t wait to start a life and a family with this woman; the woman who had changed my life.
Sneak Peak at Hawk
“I’m so sorry, Sydney.”
“No… Hawk. I
t can’t be him. Please tell me it’s not him.”
That night would forever sit in my memory as the night my entire life changed. The infamous shootout between The Devil Saints and The Road Rebels not only left multiple people dead but made the headlines and forced both clubs to go under the radar. I was in my twenties when I was a prospect for The Road Rebels. My father, Joe, was the Vice President of the motorcycle club. He was highly revered. A real chest puffer. He knocked up my mom at some motorcycle celebration at the beach on the West Coast, and she showed up at his doorstep nine months later with me.
“Dad! No! Stop!”
The gunshots called out like raging lightning strikes. They tore through the air, whizzing by our heads as motorcycles came rumbling down the road. The Devil Saints had been looking to stir up trouble with us ever since our treasurer had been found hooking up with The Devil Saint’s President’s wife.
John had been an idiot. Why the fuck couldn’t he have just kept it in his pants? The Devil Saints had always been looking for trouble. Their club was conceived as a split faction from another major club out in the Grand Canyon valley, and they brought nothing but heartache and sorrow wherever they went. Their motorcycles were loud, their jackets and paint jobs were bright, and they had no issues unloading gun magazines into anyone that looked at them in a way they didn’t approve.
Why the fuck did Sidney’s father, have to fuck the President’s wife?
Bullets were flying as I raced to my father. He was taking fire as he ducked behind a car. People were screaming, and magazines were being reloaded. My father pressed a gun into my hand so I could fend for myself, then he went back to what he knew best.
Shooting at those who shot at his loved ones.
“Hawk! Help!”
I took off running, hearing Sydney’s cries for help. My heart hammered in my chest. Was she hurt? Was she bleeding? Had she been taken? The Devil Saints were ruthless bastards and would stop at nothing to get the information they needed.
Even if it was pouring from the scared lips of a 20-year old girl.
I could still remember how petrified I was when I heard Sydney shriek like that. She had been raised by her father as well after her mother dumped her at the main lodge. That was common with women nowadays: take a wild vacation, have a tryst with a biker, then dump the child when they didn’t want to take responsibility for their actions. Sydney had grown up tough, and her father raised her to protect herself. She knew how to shoot a gun with accuracy by the age of twelve and could single-handedly take me down by the time we were teenagers.
I fell in love with her on the spot the moment she pinned me to the ground the very first time we sparred.
I slid towards Sydney as I saw her cradling someone’s head. Blood was leaking everywhere as it spurted onto her blue leather jacket. Tears were pouring down her face as I crawled to her, shooting out to my side as someone attempted to charge us. I didn’t even look to see how long it took for the fucker to bleed out because I recognized who she was cradling the moment I saw his eyes.
John.
Her father had been shot.
Raking my hands through my Mohawk, I stared out the window. Never in my life had I ever seen Sydney cry that way. She was tough. Tougher than any girl should’ve been for her age. She and I had seen things no child should be privy to, and it was another reason why we got along so well. Our fathers raised us, schooled us, and strapped us to their motorcycles when we took trips. We grew up on the road. We understood the in’s and out’s of how each other was being raised, and people actually took bets on when we’d finally tie the knot.
But she left before we could.
“Please Daddy,” Sydney begged. “Just hang on.”
Blood was pouring from Joe’s mouth as I ripped my jacket off. I peeled my shirt off my back and pressed it to the gunshot wound in his chest, but his stomach was littered with iron. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would make it, and we both watched as the light slowly slipped from his eyes.
“Hawk,” John choked out.
“Yeah. Yeah, John. I’m right here. Just… conserve your energy.”
A bullet whizzed by my head, and I got up. I shot the man who was aiming a gun at us right between the eyes, then ducked back down before his body hit the ground. I reloaded my gun without even thinking as Sydney’s eyes widened at me, and for the first time, I saw it.
I saw Sydney fear me and what I had become.
“Take care… of my… my baby,” he said.
“That’s not gonna be necessary,” I said. “Because you’re gonna live to take care of her yourself.”
“Promise me, boy. Pro-... promise…”
“Daddy! No! Please!”
My hands shook as I sat at her father’s desk. Joe and John were always made fun of because they wanted legitimate desks in the main lodge where we all congregated. Hell, they had been made fun of when they suggested building this fucking building in the first place. ‘Motorcycle clubs don’t have lodges’ the members had complained. But, Joe and my father were dead set on it. They thought we needed a safe place to meet up. A haven for us all to gather at. A place to hold our family dinners and return to after trips we all took together. They kept teasing our fathers about wanting ‘office spaces’ and shit like that, but I knew why they wanted this place.
They wanted it because it gave them some sort of permanence.
I never could bring myself to sit at my father’s desk, but for some reason sitting at John’s desk always made me feel a bit closer to her. To Sydney. Our father’s ‘offices’ were right next to one another’s because it helped them to coordinate trips. The Vice President was in charge of taking care of our books and shit after the President put his stamp of approval on it, and that meant working alongside the Treasurer to make sure they could afford all the shit my father always wanted to do.
It made their lives a bit more convenient, it got them out of their homes, and the building ultimately pulled the whole of The Road Rebels into a more cohesive unit.
“Hawk! Get over here!”
I heard someone call out for me and I jumped up from behind the barrels. Sydney was tugging on my wrist, begging me to stay. Her eyes were lined with tears as the fear ricocheted across her face, but the desperation in the person calling for me caused me to rip myself away from her.
“I’ll be right back, I swear,” I said.
I ran over as bullets continued to fly, but then I heard it. Sirens off in the distance. Motorcycles kicked up as The Devil Saints began to ride away, and the moment they turned their backs I unloaded. Every single bullet in my gun chamber hit the backs of members as they drove off, and it wasn’t until Sydney wrapped her arms around me and shrieked for me to stop that I came to.
“Just stop,” she whispered desperately.
“Hawk, you gotta come quick,” someone said. “It’s your father.”
We lost many good riders that day. Sydney’s father. My father. Our president, Magnum. They all bled out in the sand while the rest of us stood there, stunned at the surprise assault The Devil Saints were able to spring on us. Some people were angry that someone didn’t see it coming. Others thought we had a traitor in our midst. Had it not been for the grieving process and my ability to yell some fucking sense into everyone, a damn witch hunt would’ve killed and destroyed what was left of our crew.
Our club.
Our brothers.
Our family...
Consoling Sydney had been the hardest thing I’d ever have to do. Her grief was overwhelming. She screamed and cried as I held her that night, then she tried to use sex to cover up how she felt. I sank my cock between her legs time and time again as she clawed at my back, trying to forget the overwhelming stench of blood that was still wafting underneath her nose. I loved that woman with a passion. I was willing to give her anything and everything she could’ve ever needed to cope. If she wanted sex, that’s what she would get. If she wanted me to eat her pussy until she passed out from the pleasure, that’
s what I would do. If she wanted to drown her sorrows in ice cream and put on thirty pounds, I’d call her beautiful while she was doing it.
What I didn’t know was that I’d wake up alone the next morning.
What I didn’t know was that Sydney’s grief would rip her away from me.
I never did see her after that. After she left me in the middle of the night. I’d spent my entire life growing up alongside her, then The Devil Saints came in and killed our parents. My grief drove me deeper into the family fold. My mother moved away from the grief of my father’s loss and I worked my way up the ladder and ended up with the position of Sergeant at Arms. It was bittersweet, in a way, but it was the only thing I could think of that would somehow bring him honor.
Somehow protect us from what happened that night.
Sydney’s grief, however, drove her away from this place. Away from us.
Away from me.
I blamed The Devil Saints for taking her from me. For forcing me to bury our parents. She didn’t even come back for her father’s funeral. Fucking heaven only knows where she had been. Some rumors swirled that her mother wasn’t actually dead. Others could’ve sworn they saw her walking the streets as a prostitute just inside the town limits. Some proclaimed she was actually adopted and never once considered us family. Just a trapped little girl who wanted out.
No matter what was true, I couldn’t blame her. She sometimes talked about getting out and living a normal life. Traveling the world and getting away from all the violence. She wanted the house and the yard. The dog running around with her child on it’s back. She wanted the late night wine meetings with friends while they bitched about their husbands and the shopping trips that would make most men pull their hair out.
Me? I couldn’t wait to spend my years with the only family I’d ever known. They’d comforted me and took me in when my father died. Showed me the ropes and made sure I stayed on a path he’d be proud of. I swore at his funeral I’d do right by him. I swore I’d guide the only physical definition of family I’d ever known down a path that would not only make him proud but honor his name.
Marco Page 5
