I snorted. “Why?” He didn’t respond. “You’re something else, you know that?” I tried to push him away, but my hands against his chest did nothing. “What if the love of my life is down there, just waiting to discover me?” I joked, laughing in the face of his taut-jawed anger. He clearly didn’t like that thought. “Why should I matter to you?”
He exhaled a harsh breath. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Fuck you,” I hissed, getting tired of hearing him say that, and I couldn’t believe I’d dropped the f-bomb. “News flash: I’m an adult, Big John. I don’t need your protection, and frankly I’m tired of hearing you use that as an excuse to get me to do what you want.” There, I’d called him on it, and he looked anything but pleased. Before I knew it he was flush against me and crushing me against the wall. I caught my breath. “What are you doing?”
“You’re right,” he growled down at me. “I pushed you away the night of the party to keep you away from me and the club while I dealt with club shit. But you’re here now.” He moved closer, his great wall of chest muscle flattening my breasts, his face so close his breath whispered across my parted mouth. “And you’re fucked.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that and opened my mouth to ask, but Big John took that second to crush his mouth down on mine. As soon as the firm smoothness of his mouth touched mine, I opened to him like a flower to a bee and I absorbed all of him. I was helpless to fight the sway of his potency, the heat and tantalizing flavor of his tongue as it attacked mine as if he were a hungry beast trying to get every last drop of me.
At first it was just our mouths touching, tasting, biting, and soothing. We couldn’t get enough. The sounds of our loss of control, the pleasure we were taking from each other, filled the room. And then it wasn’t enough. Big John’s hands began to move over me, roaming down the side of my neck, over my shoulders, down my arms. They traveled to the front of my body, shaping and squeezing my breasts through my sweater, losing more control as his hands explored the indentation of my waist, the flare of my hips, and then around to the softness of my bottom.
I moaned, arching my hips into his erection, as he squeezed the cheeks of my butt and drew me against his grinding cock. His deep groans were animalistic, like an animal claiming his mate in the most raw and primitive way, like a wild, savage creature. I was a fool for letting this go so far, but I wanted Big John. I wanted him so badly despite what instinct was warning me against. I reached up and lost my fingers in his hair, pulling and tugging in silent communication for him to give me more.
His fingers went to the hem of my sweater and inched their way beneath, bringing it up my thighs, my hips, my belly, and over my heaving breasts. I had on a red, lacy bra, my breasts swelling over the cups, and he paused to take a look.
A long look.
I watched, spellbound, as his expression grew taut with arousal.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Big John rasped, before taking my breasts into his large hands. He massaged them for a brief while, and then he flicked the front clasp opened with surprising ease, releasing the heavy flesh into his open palms. The callused roughness of his warm skin felt good against my skin, stimulating me into a quivering mess. He groaned low, leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth.
I shivered, whimpering with pleasure. Wetness escaped my pussy, I could feel it wetting my thong. “Yes!” I begged him, arching further into his mouth. My hands clenched into his hair, holding him to me firmly. I lay my head back against the wall, mouth open, hips thrusting.
“Say my name,” he demanded, talking around a nipple.
“Big John!” I would have done whatever he wanted if it meant that he would keep his mouth on my breasts.
Grunting, he moved his open mouth back and forth, loving both breasts and nipples equally. He pulled the sweater up and I raised my arms as he took it off me and tossed it to the side. Then his hands dropped to my waist. Our eyes clashed, and I knew that the intensity I saw burning in his matched what he saw reflected in mine. “I want you naked. Now.” The passion in his tone frightened me. My hands fell to where his were at the top of my leggings, but he shook his head and moved my hands aside. “No.”
I stood silently against the wall while Big John kissed his way down my body. My hands fell onto his wide shoulders, moans and whimpers flowing between my lips as I quivered wildly with anticipation. First, he unzipped and removed my boots. Then he pulled my leggings down my body, leaving on the red thong beneath. When I was naked except for the thong, he put his mouth on me and began nibbling, licking, kissing his way back up my legs toward my dripping pussy.
When his nose was level with my pussy he sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck. I need a taste.” He nudged the thin covering aside and the next thing I felt was his tongue licking between my folds.
“Oh!” I gasped, as pleasure consumed me in an instant. My hips shot forward as my clit screamed for more contact. “Big John!”
“A taste of heaven, baby.” His tongue lapped my clit and labia, the rough texture of it adding more pleasure than I thought possible. His hands clenched into my butt cheeks, massaging them and pulling me firmer against his mouth. “I’m going to fucking devour you,” Big John groused, licking and sucking on my plump mounds. “Taste so fucking good.” His tongue speared past my pussy, going in deep.
I cried out with pleasant surprise, clenching my nails into his leather padded shoulders. “I want you naked, too, Big John,” I complained. I wanted to see his body, see the tattoos that I knew covered his skin, see the muscular build my hands had already discovered.
“In time, baby.” Without warning he picked me up and tossed me onto his bed. I barely had enough time to scoot myself up the bed before he fell between my legs. His powerful hands gripped my thighs, and then he was pushing my legs further apart, making room for his wide shoulders. Within seconds he was back to lapping at my pussy, and I sank onto the bed in bliss.
“Oh. God.” The scruff on his face scraped my inner thighs. His tongue licked and nipped my pussy lips and clit, while his fingers invaded my body. First one, and as I arched high with vocal pleasure he added two more. As my orgasm grew, so did a scream, and I jammed my fist into my mouth to drown it out.
Everything inside me gathered in my core, only to release in a tremendous gush of wet rapture so intense that I thought I might black out. White stars danced behind my closed eyes when I lost my breath. I arched high against Big John’s mouth and fingers, silently demanding more, willing my orgasm to go on and on, convulsing out of control.
I’d barely come down to earth when I opened my eyes to see Big John jackknife up, remove his cut and the tee beneath, his eyes never leaving mine, his breath harsh and choppy. His hands made quick work at undoing his pants, and then he kicked off his boots and removed them. My eyes rounded when I realized that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. It didn’t matter, though, because every square inch of the magnificent body he’d exposed to me took my breath away.
He was built like a freaking God! What I’d only suspected before came to light as he peeled away layer after layer of clothing to reveal hard, defined muscles covered in bad-ass tattoos of skulls, motorcycles, the Phantom Riders MC logo right across his chest, and plenty of tribal ink. Big John was a walking masterpiece of panty-melting hulk.
He was a big, bad-ass hulk with a hulking big cock. It was so big that it curled right up to his lower abdomen. The wide slit in the mushroom-shaped head glistened with pearly pre-cum. As I watched, Big John curled his hand around his bobbing cock and gave it a few rough tugs, causing a drop of cum to leave a track beneath his bellybutton. I was so turned-on by the man’s appearance that I had a mini orgasm.
A crooked grin spread across his mouth. The bastard. Nothing got past him. He didn’t waste any time in dropping back down onto the bed and covering my body. I felt his monster cock right at my opening, throbbing against my swollen pussy. “Hell, I’d like to fuck you raw.”
I knew what he was sayin
g, and I was stupid for wishing the same thing. I wanted to feel him without anything between us, wondered what it would feel like to have him shoot his seed inside me. The image made me grow hotter, but the reality was that this might be our one and only time together, and I couldn’t take the chance. I couldn’t trust Big John. I might just be another notch on his bedpost that he could brag to his brothers about.
I felt him move between our bodies, realizing that he was slipping on a condom. Anticipation at the thought of what it would feel like for him to slide into me made me twist and gyrate beneath his heavy weight. I reached up and nipped at his chin. He jerked back in surprise, but there was humor in his eyes. “Fuck me,” I encouraged softly.
He grunted and grabbed his cock, running the tip up and down my slit before settling it at the entrance to my pussy. He slammed his mouth down onto mine at the same time he slammed his hips forward, penetrating my body with one forceful plunge that vibrated through my whole being. The stretch and burn of his entry lasted only until he began to move. As our tongues meshed and danced around each other, I raised my hips to meet his thrusts, which were slow at first, then picked up speed.
“You’re tight as fuck, baby,” he grunted. “Just like I knew you would be.”
I dug my nails down Big John’s back, feeling him stiffen slightly as he continued to fuck me. “Are you complaining?” I teased, out of breath. I sucked in my breath when he pulled away.
“Fuck, no,” he breathed heavily against the side of my neck, turning his face and putting his lips against my skin.
I felt him kiss and suck me there, too involved in what we were doing to worry about any lingering proof of what we’d done. He was skewering me in the most delicious way, expertly stroking that elusive erroneous zone located just past my entrance in my upper wall. Another orgasm blossomed in my core.
My hands roamed down Big John’s body, feeling the muscles flex in his back, reveling in the feel of his rock-hard buttocks as the cheeks loosened and tightened with his thrusts. His strokes were so powerful that every time he entered me the force pushed me further up the bed. Little grunts passed through my lips, louder, harsher grunts escaped his.
“Big John!” I cried out. I was going to come.
He pulled out, flipped me onto my belly, and pulled me up on my knees before I could crash. In the next instant his cock was slipping into me from behind, the angle making him feel even bigger and longer. My pussy walls swelled and squeezed around his cock as he pumped his way to my soul. My orgasm was on the fast track, and it surged up and over the peak of no return. As I convulsed, Big John’s hands cupped my swaying breasts and tweaked my nipples.
“I’m coming!” I cried out, slamming my butt against his loins. The hair that had escaped my braid clung to me in wet strands, and sweat dripped off the tip of my nose. “Oh, God! Oh, God!” I chanted, feeling my body pulse strongly around his cock.
“Aaaaggghhhh!” Big John grunted loudly, holding himself still inside my body. Even through the condom I could feel the explosive violence of his release, could feel every jerk of his cock as he filled the condom with his seed. “Oh, shit!” His hot breath bathed my shoulder.
The hands at my hips held me in place, which was a good thing, because his big body was shuddering so hard that he could have easily severed our intimate connection. As orgasmic bliss claimed us, and gradually our body’s movements slowed down, our breathing calmed. Big John seemed content to remain inside my body, even when his cock was spent. I found that I enjoyed his weight on me. I liked his heavy muscles crushed against my softer body. His warmth cloaked my back where he’d collapsed against me.
He moved. We both moaned. Big John kneeled up, pulling his deflated cock out. Once he moved off the bed, I was able to turn on my back and collapse against the cool sheets. Silently, I watched him remove the full condom and disappear into the bathroom with it. Then I heard the toilet flush and the water running. I didn’t realize that he was getting a shower until I heard the glass door close.
Wow. He wasn’t one to cuddle after sex, or for conversation. Paul hadn’t been, either, but at least there was one big difference between them. Where Paul could not have cared less about seeing to my needs once he’d come, Big John had been a considerate lover, seeing to mine first. I wondered if he were as considerate with his other women. I pushed that thought from my head, reminding myself that I wasn’t one of his women.
I wasn’t his anything.
Chapter 11
Big John
I was a fucking bastard. I’d treated Daisy just like a club whore once I’d pulled my wilted dick from her body. I’d left her there, taken care of the condom like I usually did, and decided to take a shower, hoping she’d be gone when I came out. The truth was, I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. She wasn’t a sweetbutt and she hadn’t deserved my cold indifference. She’d given me the best fuck of my life, but what terrified me was the way I’d begun to think of her during it.
Mine.
The same fucking thing I’d thought of the instant that I’d locked eyes with her that first day in her salon.
Mine.
Christ. I wanted her as mine.
I wanted to claim her.
She’d still been there when I’d come out of the bathroom, sound asleep and naked as the day she’d been born. Beautiful. Curvy. Still wet between the legs, the tiny strip of black hair covering her mound glistening and matted with her own cream. I’d wanted to fuck her without a condom, feel the pleasant slide of skin on skin. It was yet another red flag that I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t need a woman, a girlfriend, or an old lady. Not a permanent one. Thinking about filling Daisy’s pussy up with my seed was a warning sign that I needed to be careful.
I’d covered her up with the sheet and left the room, locking the door behind me. She could get out, I just didn’t want anyone walking in on her. Once she was safe, I had shit to do. I’d grabbed Jumper and Clay and had taken off for Pleasure Me, a strip club that didn’t give a fuck who you were, money was money and they didn’t turn anyone away. It was common knowledge that they were neutral ground for bikers. Anyone could go there, but it didn’t mean that they could be trusted, or that it was safe there.
The three of us were sitting at a table against the wall with our backs to it. It was dark, and smelled like stale beer, cigarettes, and sex. The lights were directed toward the stage, on the girl who was naked and pumping her cunt against the pole. She had a nice rack, but I knew fake when I saw it. Her ribcage stuck out revealing that she was too fucking skinny, probably a druggie. She was wearing a wig, too, because I could see black hair sticking out from around the platinum twirling around her shoulders.
Daisy’s luscious tits had been real, her little nipples rosy and sweet as fucking candy. Thinking about them turned me hard as stone. If I hadn’t had club shit to do I would still have been there, no doubt fucking her brains out. She had a sweet, tight as fuck pussy that hugged my dick and knew how to milk it dry. Several times while I’d been pounding her I’d hit right up against her inner walls. It wasn’t often that I could bottom out inside a woman, and my balls had been happy slapping against her curvy ass.
I picked up my drink and threw it back, slamming the glass down on the table loud enough to get the waitress’s attention. She skipped her way to the table, a huge smile on her face. She would have been pretty without all the makeup.
“Can I get you something, honey?”
Her eagerness and the interest in her eyes revealed that I could request anything and she’d be glad to give it to me. “A refill,” I grunted. She started to turn away. “Fuck, make it the whole damned bottle.”
“You got it,” she smiled over her shoulder, swinging her hips as she walked away.
“Nice ass,” Clay remarked, watching her.
“You have a nice ass waiting for you back at the clubhouse,” I reminded him.
He shrugged. “Does that mean I can’t admire someone else’s?” he snorted. “Makes m
e appreciate what I have.”
There was some truth to that.
“What about you?”
I looked at Jumper. “What about me?”
“Seems you’re not as stressed out as you were before. Something happen between you and that cute Daisy from the salon?”
“None of your fucking business, brother.”
He and Clay both laughed. The waitress came back with the bottle of whiskey and set it down on the table. The view that I got as she bent forward might have peaked my interest another time. Her blouse fell away from her tits, revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I looked. I’m a man, after all, but the sight was mediocre compared to the full perfection of Daisy’s full tits. Shit, I wanted those creamy mounds in my mouth right then, wanted to roll those tasty nipples around with my tongue, and hear her little whimpers as I sucked at them hard.
“Would you like anything else?” the waitress asked with an invitation in her eyes.
“Maybe some other time.” Clay gave me and Jumper a look before continuing. “You never know if love will last or not.”
Love? Fuck. He and Jasmine hadn’t been together long enough to even like each other yet.
“Is Talbot here tonight?” I asked, pulling her eyes back to me.
“In his office in the back. Would you like me to get him for you?”
“Yeah. Send him out. Tell him Big John wants to chat.”
“Sure thing, honey.”
After she walked away, my gaze drifted back to the stage. A different girl was dancing now, one with a little more meat on her bones. She was wearing a harem girl’s outfit, as revealing as it was concealing, giving glimpses of her skin as she moved.
“Now that’s worth watching,” Clay smirked, nodding toward the stage. “I’d like to see Jasmine in something like that.”
The door opened and a couple of truckers stumbled inside. They looked rough, and halfway to already being drunk. I shook my head with disgust, thinking about them out on the road, driving while intoxicated. I had little patience for that kind of fucking stupidity. A lot of bikers drove under the influence, too, but my brothers knew how I felt about it, knew how it had changed my life. They knew that they’d have to answer to me if I found out they did that shit. I may have been a killer, but my fists and gun were usually aimed at scum who deserved to die. Driving while drunk took out innocent lives, and hit a personal note for me.
What He Wants (Book 3 after Phantom Riders MC-Hawk and No Mercy) Page 9
