by Evelyn Glass
But it had grown beyond sexual needs. Now when he looked at her, there was sometimes a tenderness that wasn’t there before. She had first noticed it after she’d found a sleeping bag in the closet and she had thrown it on the bed, wanting to fuck him in the snug confines of the bag. The way he looked at her as they challenged each other to fuck harder had her melted her heart, and his love-making had changed. He’d been pounding the hell out of her before, but when she’d questioned what was wrong, he’d only smiled at her, denied anything was wrong, then proceeded to drive her fucking crazy with hours of slow and easy fucking.
She pulled back from the kiss and smiled at him, lightly tugging at his fingers to start him moving. They still regularly fucked their brains out, but tonight she was in the mood for another slow, marathon fuck that left her satisfied in ways all the toe-curling, brain-melting orgasms in the world couldn’t.
When they reached the bedroom, she pushed him softly to the bed, her smile promising great pleasure. He could tell by her slow, gentle, actions she was in a more loving mood tonight, and the sex would be slow and easy.
As he settled on the bed, she disrobed, taking her time, enjoying him watching her as she moved, teasing him with glimpses. She slowly licked her lips as she crawled over him, settling onto him as she took his mouth. Sometimes their desires were out of sync, one wanting to fuck hard and fast while the other was in the mood for something slower, but tonight his kiss was so warm, slow and tender she knew they both wanted the same thing. She pulled slowly back from his lips, smiling at him, watching his eyes as he reached up to push a lock of hair out of her face.
“I’m going to take good care of you tonight,” she whispered, wanting to give him pleasure and take her pleasure from doing so. She began to move lower, kissing and licking, tasting the salt of his sweat, dragging her breasts along his skin as she moved lower.
He gasped as she continued lower, pulling his shorts down and sliding them off his legs before tossing them aside. She took him into her mouth, battering the top of his cock with her tongue before biting the head gently, her lips spreading in a wicked smile as she held his cock between her teeth. He hissed, her bite one of those things that got to him for reasons he couldn’t explain, before she released her hold and took him deep.
She pulled back, pulling his cock out of her mouth with a wet pop, rising up higher and wrapping his cock in her breasts. She’d learned a lot about what he liked, and she enjoyed mixing things up to keep their play fresh and exciting. She let him fuck her breasts a moment as she kissed the ripples of his torso, running her tongue along the ridges of muscles defined there, smiling as he hissed and growled.
She turned in the bed, offering herself to him. He lifted her over his head, knowing she liked it when he moved her around – “manhandling her,” she called it. She settled with a sigh as he snaked his arms around her thighs, clamping her tight to his face as he began to probe and caresses with his tongue.
They pleased each other with their mouths for many long moments, enjoying the giving and taking of pleasure. She began to pull away, her orgasm pressing in on her. Sometimes he let her go, but other times, like tonight, he held her, preventing her escape. She pulled again, wanting to come with him inside, but he resisted her escape attempts. She knew if she pulled hard enough he would release her, but decided to accept the approaching orgasm, and gasped softly as she plunged him into her mouth again.
She pulled him from her mouth and held his cock against her face as she moaned deeply. He continued to caresses her with lips and tongue, wanting to push her orgasm on, her sounds of pleasure so deeply erotic they made him ache with his hardness.
She felt his embrace relax as her rapture left her and she slowly pulled away from his wicked tongue. She considered working on him until he came, but decided she wanted, needed, to feel him inside. She turned in the bed, smiling at the smug look on his face as he pulled her into a kiss. Each time they made love like this, slow and easy, she felt the urge to tell him how she felt, how he was becoming much more than a fuck. She’d never been in love before and that held her back, preventing her from saying the words until she was sure he felt the same way.
He smiled at her as she pulled back from the kiss, liking the way she looked at him. Tonight, he decided. Tonight would be the night he told her. She began to swing a leg over him but he blocked it, pushing her first to her back, then rolling her to her side as he snuggled into her back. He steered himself into her then slowly pushed in deep, her soft gasp at his passage joining his own. He paused, holding her close as he kissed her shoulders, his hands cupping her breasts as finger and thump caressed her nipples while he summoned his courage.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered, sensing something was wrong.
He swallowed hard. He’d never spoken the words he was about to say, and he twisted her head so he could taste her lips. “I’m falling for you, Peyton. I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered.
Her heart leapt, thudding in her chest, as a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. He’d said them! Now was her chance to repeat them back, but as she began to speak, the words stuck in her throat. Did she mean them? What did it mean to be in love? What if he was just saying it because he thought he had to? All these thoughts, and more, whirled through her mind in an instant.
He felt her stiffen and he felt the rush of impending doom. Had he confused lust and love? He thought she was beginning to feel something for him, too, but as the silence drew out, he realized he’d made a terrible mistake.
She lay there, his cock buried deep inside, unsure of what to do…then she remembered the forest, how he’d covered her with his own body. He hadn’t known the man would miss, or he only had one shot left, but rather than protect himself, he’d flung himself over her in a desperate attempt to save her. She felt tears well in her eyes as she whimpered.
“I love you, too,” she gasped, rolling away from him, desperate to see his eyes and taste his lips.
He pulled her into a kiss as relief flooded through him with her words. He’d made the leap of faith, and felt crushing disappointment and soaring exhilaration in the same breath. Having given voice to his feelings, he could feel them cement, becoming strong and unbreakable, his desire for her doubling, then doubling again.
“I love you so much!” she gasped as she pulled back from the kiss, caressing his face in fast butterfly kisses, the dam broken, feelings for him pouring out of her in a rush. She felt hot and itchy, excitement rippling through her like a wave. She wanted to jump on the bed and run down the street naked as she shouted to the world Bjorn Lothbrook fucking loved her, and she loved him in return!
They rolled together, Ironside coming to rest on her, their faces split with smiles they couldn’t vanish. They groaned together as he plunged into her, his hands tangling in her hair as he lunged into her again and again, hissing and snarling. “I fucking love you and I’m never letting go, so you better get used to being fucked every night,” he growled.
She thrilled at his words, the thought of receiving the pleasure he gave her every night for the rest of her life filling her with excitement. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me and don’t stop! Never stop!” she panted.
He lunged into her again, before slowly pulling back to lunge into her again. “I’m never going to stop fucking you!”
“Faster! Fuck me faster!” she begged while kicking at his ass with her heels, mewling softly as he burst into motion, pounding into her, trying to drive her through the bed. “Oh…my…God!” she gasped, the excitement of his proclamation revving her up.
He grunted, low and deep as he shuddered, his orgasm arriving from nowhere, overwhelming him before he had a chance to stall it. He continued to slam into her as his pleasure tried to rip him apart, grunting again before rearing up and bellowing, battling the pleasure, forcing his body to do his bidding, driving into her, refusing to succumb to the pleasure. With another cry, he buried his face in her shoulder and fucked her, fucked her without stopping as he
promised.
“Oh, God…oh God…oh God,” she whispered as he bellowed and roared, cried and gasped, her orgasm coming…coming…coming…until it rolled over her in a massive wave of pleasure. “I’m coming! Oh, God, I’m coming so hard!” she cried, holding him tight, giving voice to her rapture to end his torture, but still he fucked her, driving her orgasm on, gasping and whimpering before he stopped with a massive shudder and collapsed onto her. They lay still, panting, holding each other tight, unwilling, and unable to move, until with another hard shudder, he began to thrust slowly.
She sighed softly as he began to move again, slowly pushing in deep before pulling out to slowly push in again. His breath hot and fast on her neck, he moved as if every slow thrust was an effort, his hands gripping and releasing her hair, holding her tight as he drove into her. To have such a man in her life, a big, gorgeous, god of a man, a man who always gave his all, whether to protect her or please her, was the stuff she dreamed of, and she would never hurt him or let him go.
They moved together for a long time, kissing and touching, dreaming and planning, muttering of their love and the future, sharing thoughts and ideas for ending the war with Saracens, for growing the Knights, for making a life together, until exhaustion overtook them and the drifted peacefully into sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
“Be careful!” Peyton whispered as she kissed Ironside.
“Don’t worry,” he replied. “Stay in the clubhouse until you hear from me.”
“We will,” she nodded.
All the club women were clustered in the main room of the clubhouse, kissing their men goodbye. It had been two weeks since Ironside and Whiteshirt had mentioned to Peyton and Honey the Knights were moving back into guns. He knew Peyton had dropped a little information to a couple of her friends that the Knights were about to royally fuck the Saracens, though when he asked her about it she swore she didn’t say anything about where or how. They would know soon enough if it were Peyton or one of the other women.
“Knights! Let’s ride!” Ironside called, putting an end to the goodbyes. Ironside had called all the Knights in last night, telling them there was a big operation going down today. They were leaving a lot of their interests exposed, but he was sure if the mole passed the information, the Saracens were watching, and he wanted to make it look good.
“Don’t let them kill each other,” he teased, slapping Tinker on the back. Tinker still wasn’t at one hundred percent after being shot, so Ironside had tasked him with staying behind to protect the woman and watch the clubhouse. He wasn’t happy about it, but had accepted his assignment with a nod. As the Knights filed out, Ironside pulled Tinker aside.
“It’s all on you to keep them safe,” Ironside said solemnly. He didn’t expect any trouble or he would leave more than one man behind, but if trouble found them, Tinker had a heavy load.
“I’ve got this,” Tinker said with a grin.
Ironside grinned and slapped Tinker on the back. He knew he would give his life for any member of the club, including the women, and that was all he could ask of any man.
He strode out and mounted up. As soon as they were out of sight of the clubhouse, he would give the rest of the Knights the details of what was really going down.
***
Peyton paced in the clubhouse, unable to sit still. The last two weeks had been the best, and the worst, of her life.
The good was Ironside. After their profession of love, things had only gotten better. She had told Blaire and Sloane, the two women she was closet to in the club, that Ironside had told her he loved her. They were thrilled for her, but at the same time she could see the envy in their eyes. She suspected they’d had a taste of him in the past, and liked it.
The only down side was now Honey was a snarling bitch spoiling for a fight. They had been ignoring each other for the past several weeks, for the good of the club if nothing else, but only days after Peyton told Sloane, Honey had gotten into her face. They hadn’t come to blow, the rest of the club girls getting them separated before the name calling could devolve into actual violence, but that had only strained the relationships between the women of the club more. There had been several pushing matches, and one outright fight between the two camps, in the last week. If the Saracens problem wasn’t resolved, and soon, she and Honey, if not all the women, were going to have to go to the pit.
She smiled at the thought. Twenty-seven naked, sexy women fighting it out in a battle royale. Maybe they would cover themselves in baby oil and charge the men to watch.
While her relationship with Ironside was good, she was terrified he and the rest of the Knights were riding into trouble. The clubs had been kicking the shit out of each other for six weeks now, but to go head on at the Saracens seemed foolish to her. She’d kept her concerns, mostly, to herself, mentioning her fears only when they were alone. He had assured her everything was fine, but she knew when the shit really hit the fan, Ironside would be at the front of the line. She’d lost Melissa; she didn’t want to lose him, too.
She knew it wasn’t her fault the Knights and Saracens had gone to full-scale war, but she felt badly she hadn’t been able to give them something they could use to gut the Saracens in a single, swift, fatal blow, or uncover the mole that was helping the Saracens fuck them.
Without the brothers there to force the girls to mingle, the two factions had naturally divided, each sticking to their half of the common room. There were twenty-seven girls total, with sixteen in Peyton’s camp, the remaining eleven supporting Honey. Peyton didn’t know where Honey was, and that suited her fine. The groups got along better when Honey wasn’t around stirring the shit.
The brothers had been gone for less than an hour when Honey stepped out of Whiteshirt’s office, sauntered over to her side of the room, and sat down with a smug smile. Peyton watched, wondering what Honey was feeling so pleased about.
The doors banged open, everyone freezing in horror as Andrew Moore and ten more Saracens strode into the clubhouse as if they owned the place, their weapons out. Tinker jumped to his feet and began to draw his weapon, but he was too slow, going to the ground in a spray of blood as a pair of Saracens shot him.
Several of the women cried out in horror then rushed to Tinker’s aid.
“Nice place you have here,” Andrew said smugly as he looked around.
“What are you doing here?” Peyton demanded, her blood running cold.
“I’ve come to collect what’s mine, along with a little interest,” he said as the Saracens began to herd the women into a group.
“The Knights are going to be back any minute. If you leave now, maybe you can get away,” Peyton warned.
“Somehow I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?” Sloane demanded.
“I heard there was a truck load of guns is arriving today. We followed the Knights to take it from them. We wouldn’t want such dangerous weapons to fall in the wrong hands.”
Peyton went cold, then white hot. The mole was Sloane or Blaire. Those fucking bitches! She trusted them! She started to whirl on them, but then realized what he said and turned back to him. “Truck load of guns?”
“That’s right, all wrapped up and ready to put to use, but instead of them being used against us, I think we’ll use them against the Knights. As a bonus, since they left only one fox to guard the hen house, I thought we could spare a few men to take back something that belonged to me.”
“What are you going to do?” Sloane demanded.
“We’re going to initiate all of you as replacements for the whores the Knights took from me.” He frowned at the corner of the room and pointed. One of the men stepped away and shot the security camera.
Peyton looked around, desperate for a means of escape. How had the Saracens gotten in without tripping the alarm? A couple of the women in the back made an attempt to flee, but were quickly caught and shoved back into the group.
Peyton looked around the group. The truck comment bothered he
r. Either the Saracens had their information wrong or…
She noticed Honey was still standing a bit apart and didn’t look as frightened as she felt or the other women looked. She seemed pretty calm considering the Knights most hated rival had just stormed the clubhouse, killed a man in cold blood, was pointing guns at them, and had promised to press them into service as whores.
“Ironside and Whiteshirt are going to kill you for this,” she sneered, trying to put up a brave front.
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll try,” Andrew replied breezily. “Load them into the vans.”
The women were herded out and quickly loaded into three vans, ten to a van, along with three Saracens. Peyton stuck close to Honey, meekly stepping into the same van she did. She felt like a sheep among wolves as all of Honey’s supporters were in the van with her.
