by Evelyn Glass
***
Ironside slipped Whiteshirt’s hold then spun, the two men trying to take the other into a head lock, but succeeding only in wrapping themselves up, one arm around the back of their opponent’s neck, the other under the arm. They rolled, once, twice, three times before coming to rest at Peyton’s feet as Ironside began to drive with is legs, gasping and panting as he strained, both men crying out as their shoulders threatened to dislocate.
They released their holds before they could damage each other and rolled away, bouncing back to their feet. “You’re letting Peyton lead you around by the cock!” Whiteshirt growled as the men slowly circled.
“Then Honey is doing the same!” Ironside responded before he lunged in, the two men taking each other in a classic wrestling hold. Bent at the waist, their arms tangled, they pushed and shoved.
“You’re not seeing what’s happening right in front of you!” Whiteshirt panted.
“And you’re seeing shit that doesn’t exist!”
“All I know is brothers are dying!”
“Not because of Peyton!”
Ironside kicked at Whiteshirt, missed, then kicked again, hooking his leg and knocking Whiteshirt off balance. They went to the ground again, scrambling and tumbling until Ironside was sitting in the sand, lying back against Whiteshirt’s chest, Whiteshirt’s head trapped under his arm.
They were still for a moment, panting, trying to regain their strength and catch their breath.
“You always were a horndog!” Whiteshirt snarled as he began to strain, catching Ironside under the chin and levering his head back, trying to break Ironside’s hold.
“And you always were neurotic!” Ironside panted, struggling to free his face and maintain his hold.
“Fuck! I give,” Whiteshirt gasped, slapping Ironside on the back.
Ironside immediately turned him loose and sprang to his feet, turning and offering a hand. Whiteshirt took it and Ironside pulled his friend to his feet then into a hug.
“I know what I’m doing with Peyton. If she turns out to be the mole, I’ll kill her myself,” he murmured as he slapped Whiteshirt on the back.
“I don’t know why Honey lied, but I’ll find out.”
The two men gave each other another hard slap on the back then parted. Ironside turned toward Peyton. “Fight naked?” he asked with a grin as he took his shirt from her.
She pulled his head down into a kiss. “I want you to take me home and fight me naked.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Peyton was practically panting as they rode along in the van. Ironside and Dolch’s bikes had been picked up from the side of the road, but they were going nowhere anytime soon, not with a hole in the engine. Ironside had been reduced to using the club van to get home, but if he didn’t hurry, she was going take advantage of that fact, make him pull over, and fuck him right then and there in the back.
She’d said she had a lot of pent up anger and frustration, and that was true. She was angry with the Saracens for taking her friend, angry at Melissa for killing herself, angry with herself for allowing it to happen, and for feeling guilty about it at the same time, and she was angry with Whiteshirt for thinking she was a mole after she risked her life to help the club. Most of all, though, she was angry with Honey…for lying, and because it was Honey, and she fucking hated that bitch!
Having Ironside go to the pit to defend her against Honey and Whiteshirt, then watching the two men sweat and strain while arguing over who was right, fighting over her, had built a fire in her that was making her crazy. Ironside had beaten Honey’s champion, and seeing the hate in the other woman’s eyes made Ironside’s victory sweeter still.
As he pulled into his drive, she felt like she was sitting in a puddle of her own juices, her imagination running away with her, dreaming she was fucking Ironside in the pit after his victory as Whiteshirt and Honey sulked on the side, Whiteshirt’s cock limp and useless in defeat.
The moment they entered Ironside’s house she turned on him, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him furiously as she tried to climb up his body. He responded, his cock already throbbing from watching Peyton unconsciously stroking her thigh and the swell of her breast on the drive home, her color high and eyes bright.
He picked her up and clasped her to him, his hands under her ass, her legs snaking around his waist as she humped him through their clothes, their tongues engaged in an intimate wrestling match. As they reached the bed he peeled her off of him and tossed her to the mattress, her arms pin-wheeling furiously as she squeaked in fright until she landed softly in the center of the bed, Ironside bounding in pursuit and pinning her down with his weight.
She grinned up at him, thrusting her hips against his. “Fuck! I’m about to come and we haven’t even started yet!”
He grinned, pulling her shirt roughly over her head, knowing exactly how she felt as he bared down with his hips, the feel of her thrusts incredibly erotic. He manhandled her breasts before taking her lips in a torrid kiss. As they kissed, she pulled at his shirt, dragging it over his head, the feel of sand granules peppering her skin making her moan as she remembered the men in the pit. Bodybuilders turned her on, and watching two big, muscled men wrestle, their skin glistening as they grunted and strained, their skin moving as their huge muscles worked underneath made her blood roar. She imagined them naked, their giant cocks hard as they…She gasped as her orgasm crept nearer.
“I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before,” he growled, his passions carrying him away. “You liked watching me fight in the pit?” he snarled as he slammed his hips into hers.
“Oh, God, just fuck me!” she cried, so turned on even his dry humping was going to give her an orgasm.
“Tell me,” he growled. “You liked watching me fight.”
“Yes!”
“You wanted to fuck me in the pit, didn’t you? You wanted to fuck me in front of Honey.” She didn’t say anything. “Tell me!”
“Yes! I wanted to fuck you so bad! I wanted to show that bitch!” He slammed into her harder still, battering her with his hips. “Shit! You’re going to make me come! Fuck!” she cried.
She imagined Ironside and Whiteshirt, naked and covered in sweat and sand, their cocks hard and throbbing, rolling and tumbling as they grunted and strained, until Whiteshirt surrendered. She grabbed his head and pulled him down, kissing him hard as she teetered on the edge of orgasm, thrusting her hips as in her mind he rose from his vanquished opponent, threw her roughly to the sand, and fucked her hard and fast. She moaned into the kiss, thrusting, imagining his cock plunging into her, trying to push herself over the edge.
He powered out of her embrace and roughly jerked her shorts down, dragging them over her legs and throwing them to the floor. She reached for herself, desperate to feel the cleansing rush of orgasm, but he jerked her hand away before plunging two, then three, fingers into her. She howled as he furiously pistoned his fingers into her, his hand a blur. Her orgasm slammed into and she wailed, long and loud, her ass rising off the bed as he continued to thrust his fingers into her, snarling in lust as her wail rose in pitch and volume before cutting off. She kicked away from him, rolling to her stomach, her body alive with motion as she moaned, her legs and arms quivering as she struggled to escape the all-consuming pleasure tearing her apart.
He panted as Peyton moaned, her hands twisted in the linens as she shook, her legs slowly pistoning as they pushed her up in the bed. Finally she gasped, becoming still before a final hard shudder passed though her as she lay gasping.
He smiled, delighting in the orgasm he’d given her, rising and shoving his pants down as she lay on the bed, the linens twisted in her hands, her face relaxing as her eyes slowly opened. She smiled slowly and took a deep breath.
“You fuck…” she breathed, then smiled as he moved over her, his lips taking hers as she gripped him, his cock already wet and slick with his desire. “I want that inside me.” She slowly turned then leisurely, erotically,
licked him clean. As wet as he was, she didn’t want to risk him losing the condom, because once they started fucking, they weren’t stopping until he couldn’t keep it up.
She slowly rolled the condom over his cock then smiled at him as she laid back, her head at the foot of the bed, motioning to him with her fingers. He entered her, drawing in a breath at his passage, then looked down at her, his face intense.
“Fuck me,” she snarled. “You fuck me hard, and don’t stop.”
He began to drive into her hard and fast as she pulled him down. He’d wiped off the sand but hadn’t showered, and she could feel the grit between them. Again she returned to the pit, watching him snarl in effort, his body glistening as his muscles flexed and bulged as he strained against Whiteshirt.
“Fuck,” she snarled, remembering him standing over his defeated foe in the forest, covered in dirt and bits of leaves. She had always been the strong one, the one willing to stand and fight, but Ironside had been there for her, willing to stand with her, willing to protect her, covering her with his own body when she was sure they were going to be shot and killed.
He could feel his orgasm welling up within him, powerful and unstoppable. He stopped thrusting, pushing in hard and deep before pulling out.
“No!” Peyton cried, hooking her heels against his ass and trying to pull him inside again.
He powered out of her embrace before rolling over and pulling her on top. She scrambled into position, then lowered herself, but before she could begin to thrust he pushed himself up to the sitting position, clasping her to his chest with is hands on her back as he began to kiss her throat. She began to bounce on him, his firm grip keeping them tight and making her work for every thrust.
“Shit!” she gasped as she surrounded his head with her arms, pulling his lips into her throat. She was beginning to sweat, her legs burning in effort as she thrust against his embrace. He was so fucking strong, his muscles like steel cords, but god how she loved the feel of his hard muscular body pressing into hers as he kept them tight.
He rolled to the side, dumping her to the bed, holding her tight as they tumbled, her legs locking around his ass and pulling him deep. He tugged her back, then back again, sliding off the edge of the bed before thrusting into her.
“Fuck!” he snarled into her chest as he fought against the crush of her legs.
She couldn’t stop him from fucking her, he was just too strong, but having him overpower her pleased her at a deep level. She loved being manhandled, of having her lover overpower and dominate her, to fuck her until she was nothing but boneless putty, and Ironside could do it like no one else before him. She wouldn’t be able to hold this much pressure for long, but she thrilled in the contest, watching him strain, his muscles working as he plunged into her over and over again.
He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the bed above her head as he began to drive into her with force, his orgasm coming. “Fuck!” he snarled, shaking his head, trying to deny the pleasure that was stealing his control.
She watched his face twist in sweet agony a moment. “Don’t you fucking stop! Don’t you fucking stop fucking me! Fuck me!” she sneered, her own face twisting as they battled, each trying to make the other come.
“Goddamn!” he growled, plunging into her savagely. His orgasm was coming and he couldn’t stop it.
He released her hands and slid his hands under her before rearing back and picking her up. She wailed, his cock going so deep, a new and unusual wave of pleasure roaring through her. Nobody had been strong enough to hold her and fuck her standing up until now, and she crushed her eyes shut as she cried out in pleasure and excitement.
He gasped, every muscle burning as he held her, struggling against her weight as he thrust into her, grunting in exertion while thrilling with the effort. She was going wild, thrusting furiously on him as she cried out, holding herself tight against him.
He threw her down on the bed, tumbling with her, his cock plunging in deeper still, deeper than anyone had ever gone. Her ankles locked over his ass, he pounded into her furiously, roaring his pleasure into the night as he fucked her.
She began to wail, her nails biting into his arms as he pounded into her. The sting of her grip and the fury of their fucking overwhelmed his control. He lunged into her as he came, pushing in deep, holding himself there as his cock pulsed, before pulling back and ramming into her again. “Fuck!” he snarled, pushing in deep again, a shiver of pleasure zinging though him, dancing along his nerves and making him shudder.
She released her breath as her orgasm washed out of her. With the monster orgasm to start her off, now this toe curler, her need had been satiated. She could stop right here and sleep the sleep of angels, but when he grunted and began to thrust again, his lips taking hers, she could feel the need returning as a tingle of pleasure radiated out from her core. She sighed, losing herself in the kiss, her desire for him beginning to roar again, stoked by his plunging cock.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Peyton swam up out of the darkness, the sound of running water drawing her out of sleep. She stretched and smiled, her pussy aching in the most pleasant way. Ironside had fucked the shit out of her last night, leaving her a puddle in the middle of the bed.
She stretched again, groaning, then rolled out of bed with a smile, picking up a condom as she did. She had imagined fucking Ironside in that beautiful round shower several times, but something always got in the way, but now she was going to do it. As she sauntered by on the way to the toilet, she smiled, admiring his muscled ass, shoulders and legs as he scrubbed his hair. The shower really wasn’t big enough for two, but that was okay. She was going to get in tight and stay there.
As she relieved herself, Melissa popped into her mind and she felt the desire begin to wither, her smile fading as guilt tried to take her. Here she was, being the same old Peyton, thinking only of herself, fucking her brains out only days after her friend had killed herself. She shoved the thoughts aside. Sometime, while she slept, she had decided she was going to kill Andrew, the man most responsible for what happened to Melissa, or she was going to die trying. Melissa had been afraid to live, but if she was going to die avenging her, she didn’t want her last thoughts to be of what she wished she’d done.
She flushed and stepped out of the alcove that hid the toilet, standing and watching as Ironside’s hands slid over his body, admiring his form, enjoying every bulge, valley and ripple as the desire began to burn bright again.
She smiled as she moved to the shower, opening the door and stepping in, pulling it shut behind her as she dropped the condom onto the soap holder for later use. Life was too short to not live.
Ironside turned as Peyton pressed in. With them both in the shower, they had scant inches to move around, the tight confines forcing them to slide against each other as the water fell on them like rain. She loved the 360° clear glass enclosure, allowing her to see out, or others to see in.
“I want something from you,” she said, taking the soap bar from the holder and sliding it across his chest.
“You do?” he asked with a grin. He wanted something from her, too.
“I want to help you find the mole, then I want you to kill Andrew for what he did to Melissa.”
“What?” he asked. That wasn’t what he was expecting. “You want to help find the mole?”
“Yes. Girls talk. I want to try to find out to outed me and who’s feeding information to the Saracens. Then, once she’s outed, and they won’t see it coming, I want you to kill Andrew and wipe out the Saracens. Isn’t that your plan?”
“Yes,” he said slowly.
She rose to her tiptoes as she pulled his lips to hers. “I want to help. I want to help you kill Andrew,” she murmured as she pulled back, her hand sliding down to his cock. “I want to watch you fuck him and the Saracens. I want to know he’s dead and burning in hell, and I want to help make it happen.” She plucked the condom from the dish then sank to her knees, dropping the package to free her hands.
“Whiteshirt won’t like that,” he gasped as she swallowed him.
She sucked him for several moments, her tongue flicking over the head of his cock before she plunged him in deep. “Fuck him, then. He doesn’t have to know,” she murmured after pulling him from her mouth. She plunged down him again, smiling as he hissed, his hands going to her head as he began to thrust into her mouth. “It can be our secret,” she said as she pulled back again before plunging his shaft into her mouth once more.
“We don’t keep secrets like that,” he growled.
She rose, picked up the condom, opened it, and rolled it over his cock. He turned her, then pressed her against the glass, her breasts flattening, as he squatted and slowly pushed into her.
