by Susan Stoker
“Please, Cruz.”
“Take off your panties,” Cruz ordered in a guttural voice. “I thought I could make this last longer, but I have to have you.”
Mickie scrambled to do as Cruz asked. He was just as busy getting rid of his own pants. He stood next to the bed, gazing at her. Mickie licked her lips as she stared at his body. His erection was long and hard. He was big—bigger than anyone she’d ever taken before.
She refused to get nervous. She could take him; women’s bodies were meant to stretch around a man’s. She reached out for Cruz.
Cruz forced himself to stay still as Mickie’s hand gripped his cock. A bead of semen appeared on the head of his cock and almost fell to the floor. Mickie’s hand caught it and rubbed it into his skin as she caressed him. Withstanding her touch for a beat, Cruz took a deep breath. Then, knowing he couldn’t handle it much longer, he took her wrist in his hand and put a knee to the bed. He grabbed the other wrist and brought it above her head and pinned her hands there.
“As much as I crave your touch, this would cease to be slow and move quickly to Mach-10 if I let you continue to touch me.”
“But—”
“No, not this time. Later, yes. I’ll let you explore. I’ll even beg you to touch me, to lick and suck me, but not now. Not this first time. Keep them there.” When she nodded, he released her and ran his palms down her forearms to her biceps, over her shoulders, over her breasts, tweaking both nipples as he passed them, over her soft stomach and down to her hips. Cruz could see Mickie was breathing hard, and her eyes were firmly on his body as he moved.
Cruz shifted until his weeping dick brushed against her thigh.
“You’re wet for me too.” Mickie’s voice was soft and incredulous.
“Yeah, there’s nowhere I want to be more than buried deep inside your body, feeling you snug against me as I take you.”
“Then do it already, Cruz. Jesus.”
“Soon, Mickie. I’m enjoying myself here.”
“Can’t you enjoy yourself faster?” Mickie whined, squirming against him as he moved his fingers closer to her core.
“Nope. Not until I taste you.”
Cruz reached up suddenly to his pillows and grabbed one, shoving it under Mickie’s hips. “That’s better. I can see you easier.”
“Cruz…”
He ignored the pleading sound of Mickie’s voice and scooted down the bed. He took her bottom into his hands again and tilted her up farther, until his head was directly over her weeping center. He blew against her folds and watched in fascination as she clenched in his grip. “Fucking beautiful, Mickie. I swear I can see you throbbing. Here’s the deal—I’m going to make you come for me at least a couple of times before I make my way inside you. I want you nice and wet. If I’m going to take you without hurting you, you have to be soaked and ready for me.”
“I’m ready now, Cruz.”
“No, you’re not. You’re wet, but not wet enough. I want to see you dripping for me before I take you. Literally. I want to see your juices coming out of you before I push inside your hot body. Now hush and let me concentrate.” Ignoring her cute groan, Cruz didn’t mess around, he concentrated on her clit, licking it with a steady pace, then increasing his speed as she shifted under him. Cruz held her close, not letting her squirm out of his grasp and away from his rapidly flicking tongue.
It was only about three minutes later when he felt Mickie come for the first time. He quickly pushed one finger inside her, feeling her inner muscles clench around him. She threw her head back, lifted her hips, and moaned out his name. Cruz didn’t let up, but instead kept at her. He lapped at her clit remorselessly, sliding a second finger inside her and curling them upwards so he stroked against her G-spot as he continued his assault on her clit.
“Too sensitive, please, Cruz. Oh my God…”
Cruz ignored her and kept going. Finally after her third or fourth orgasm—it was hard to tell as they were practically nonstop—he eased away from her body. He turned his head and kissed her inner thigh, enjoying her breathy pants and her still-shaking muscles. “Now you’re wet. You’re so wet you’re leaking down your ass. You’re soaking my pillow. I don’t think I’m ever washing it. I want to sleep with my nose buried in it, remembering this vision right now.”
“Please, for the love of God, Cruz. Shut the hell up and fuck me already.”
Cruz kissed her rosy clit once more, enjoying the jolt of her body as he made contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, before sliding up Mickie’s body. He reached over to the table next to the bed and snagged a condom from the drawer. He hadn’t brought a woman to his place in a very long time, but even though he’d never been a boy scout, he was always prepared.
He quickly rolled the latex down his erection and placed the tip against the shiny lips of her sex. “Slow and steady, Mickie,” Cruz told her, not looking away from where he was about to take her. “If I hurt you, let me know. But I’m not stopping. No fucking way. I’ll slow down and let you get used to me, but I’m coming inside.” He looked up finally.
Mickie looked completely wrung out. The short hair on her forehead was sticking to her with the sweat that had accumulated there. Her face was red and she had a rosy blush on her upper chest. Her nipples were hard and reaching toward his ceiling. And her hands. Jesus, her hands. They were still where he’d placed them. She hadn’t moved. Even during the orgasms he’d forced her through, she’d had the presence of mind to keep them right where he’d put them.
Cruz suddenly wanted her hands on him. Wanted to feel her clutching him to her.
“You can touch me, Mickie. Please put your hands on me.”
Her hands immediately came down from over her head and rested on his biceps. She dug her fingernails in lightly, holding on, and nodded at him. “Fuck me, Cruz.”
At her words, Cruz pushed in. The angle the pillow put her hips at allowed him to drag himself along the top wall of her sex. He pushed in an inch, then withdrew. Then he pushed in two inches, and pulled back out until she only had the tip of him.
Mickie raised her hips on her own and took the two inches back. Cruz pulled away again and followed her down as her hips lowered. He gained another inch and waited. When she pushed up impatiently, he pulled back, teasing her.
“Cruz, for God’s sake—”
Before she could finish her words, Cruz pushed in until he couldn’t any more. Then he pulled her hips up, and gained another half an inch. Cruz could feel his balls flush against her backside. They both groaned.
“Okay?” he managed to ground out, not knowing what he’d do if she said no.
“Oh yeah, more than okay.” Mickie’s fingernails were digging into his upper arms harder now. “I’ve never been this full before.”
Cruz couldn’t help but flex against her at her words. God, she was sexy. Cruz had never regretted wearing a condom before in his life. It was automatic to glove up before having sex, but this, this was something different. He wanted to fill her up with his juices. He wanted to watch it slowly leak out of her after they were done. He wanted to soak his pillow, which was still under her ass, and his sheets with their juices.
He shook his head. Jesus, this wasn’t permanent. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
He pulled out then slammed back in, loving hearing her moan under him. “Hang on to me, Mickie. You wanted fast? You’re about to get fast.”
“Oh yeah. Finally. Thank God.”
Realizing he hadn’t kissed her since he’d brought her into his bedroom, Cruz leaned over, letting go of her hips so he could brace himself over her. He shoved in as far as he could go then brought his mouth down to hers.
He delved into Mickie’s mouth, learning what she liked and what she didn’t. Cruz sucked her tongue into his mouth and scraped it with his teeth. Then he took her lip and sucked on that. Finally, he thrust his tongue into her mouth and rocked his hips into hers. Kissing Mickie while she took all of him into her was insanely intimate. He’d kissed a
nd he’d fucked, but something about this moment, right now, was more than just kissing and fucking.
Cruz broke contact with her lips and sat up, continuing his assault on Mickie. She smiled up at him. Cruz looked down and saw her breasts undulating with each of his thrusts. His Mickie was all natural and he loved it. He palmed one of her breasts and squeezed as he took her. Knowing she’d need more stimulation if she was going to come again, Cruz ordered, “Touch yourself.”
“Wh-what?” she asked in confusion.
“Your clit. Make yourself come one more time. I want to feel you suck my cock in. Do it, Mickie. I’m hanging on by a thread here. I want you to come one more time before I lose it.”
Mickie immediately took her right hand away from his arm and snaked it between them until she was touching herself. She rubbed her clit then moved her fingers down until they were caressing his shaft as he thrust in and out of her.
“Oh my God, Cruz. That is so hot.”
“Stop fucking around, Mickie. I’ll let you watch some other time, but for now, please, do it. Make yourself come.”
Mickie didn’t break eye contact as she moved her finger up and harshly stroked herself. Cruz could feel her orgasm getting closer and closer. He took her nipple between his fingers again and squeezed it…hard. Harder than he would’ve if she hadn’t already come several times and if she wasn’t about to come again. “Now, sweetness. Oh yeah, I can feel it. Squeeze me, yeah. Oh yeah. Fuck!”
Cruz felt Mickie lose it right before he did. He thrust once more and ground himself inside her as far as he could. He saw spots in front of his eyes as he emptied himself into the latex surrounding his cock.
When he finally came back to his senses, he realized he was lying on top of Mickie and she was stroking his back calmly. He immediately rolled over, taking Mickie with him, holding her hips against his own, making sure she didn’t lose him in the process of them moving. She ended up sitting astride him. She pushed up and looked down, blushing.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, Wow. That was amazing, Mickie. You were amazing.”
“I think you did all the work.”
“No way, it was all you.”
Mickie giggled and Cruz groaned.
“When you laugh, I can feel you clench around me.”
Mickie stopped laughing and blushed again. “Uh, don’t you have to get up and…you know, get rid of the condom or something?”
“Yeah, but I’m comfortable where I am.”
“Yeah, but—”
“And you might not realize this, sweetheart, but I can feel how wet you are because it’s dripping down my cock and covering my balls and the sheet underneath us.”
“That’s gross, Cruz.”
Cruz reached up and brought Mickie down onto him. He linked his hands at the small of her back and she cuddled into his chest and he thought about what she’d said. Had hanging around the MC made him cruder and more demanding in bed? Cruz didn’t think so. It was Mickie. She brought out all sorts of things in him, the biggest being the ability to be his true self in bed.
“It’s not gross, hon. It’s us. Sex is raw and dirty and nasty…and completely wonderful. We can wash ourselves and the sheets. We can clean up and be back to normal in a heartbeat. But sharing this with you, sharing our bodies’ natural reactions to each other and what we did together? That’s fucking beautiful, not gross.”
Cruz felt Mickie snuggle deeper, as if she were trying to burrow into him, and it made his heart clench. He tried to memorize the feeling of her in his arms, knowing as soon as she found out what he’d done—or not done, in the case of her sister—she’d look at him with disgust instead of the soft, sated eyes she was wearing now.
Cruz felt her sigh against his chest. “Tired?”
“Mmmm.”
“Take a nap then. I don’t have to be anywhere for a while.”
Mickie began to move, and Cruz held her tightly to him. “Right there, Mickie. I like the feel of you on me.”
“I like the feel of you in me.”
Cruz chuckled when he felt her stiffen. “Didn’t mean to say that, did you?”
“No,” Mickie said, disgruntled.
“I like the feel of me in you too. Sleep.”
“Has anyone told you that you’re awfully bossy?”
“No.”
“Well, you are.”
Cruz merely smiled. He was content. For someone who had spent the last two months in the underbelly of the worst MC the city of San Antonio had ever seen, he was pretty damn happy at the moment.
He hadn’t lied. He could feel his come leaking out of the condom and onto his skin and the sheet under him, but he wasn’t about to move. He’d get up later. For now he wanted to cherish the feel of Mickie in his arms, sated and warm.
He couldn’t remember ever feeling like this after being with a woman. He was usually antsy to get up and out of bed. Not with Mickie. He laughed lightly, hearing Mickie’s soft snores. She was adorable, even when asleep.
Cruz tightened his arms and leaned up and buried his nose into her hair. He tried to memorize her smell, knowing he’d be back in the pit of hell soon enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Bubba shook hands with Axel as he delivered another shipment of drugs. Cruz, Kitty, Camel, Vodka, and Roach stood next to them as they discussed their future business.
“We down for another delivery next week?” Bubba asked.
“So soon? Fuck, man. Not sure I can make that happen,” Axel told him, running his hand over his head.
“Fucking make it happen. Ransom wants that shipment.”
“He better watch himself, you know Chico Malo won’t like Ransom overstepping.”
“Fuck that. If Chico Malo isn’t enough of a bad fucking boy to deal with a little competition, then he doesn’t deserve to be in the business.”
Axel shook his head. “Dios mío, Bubba. You have no idea what he can do.”
“Doesn’t matter, man. If Ransom wants his shipments, he’s getting his shipments. We can do business with you or find someone else.”
Axel put up his hands. “Calm the fuck down, man. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll talk with Chico Malo. You know he only supplies who he wants, when he wants, and if he thinks you’re trying to take over this area, it’s not going to go well.”
“You talk to him then. Ransom will be waiting, but tell him not to take too long.” Bubba turned his back on Axel, a serious diss, and headed for the van.
“Fucker,” Axel murmured under his breath.
Without a word, Vodka took a gun out of his back waistband and pistol whipped Axel. The man was on the ground, bleeding and disoriented, before anyone could move.
Bubba turned around, nodded at Vodka’s action, spit on the ground and continued to the van. Camel and Kitty followed him, unconcerned about Axel. Cruz and Roach approached Axel, who was now sitting up—Cruz because it was expected, and Roach because he wanted to get his licks in as well.
Roach coldcocked Axel with his fist and Cruz could tell he’d broken the man’s nose. Blood poured out and dripped down Axel’s face. Everyone knew if Axel wasn’t half conscious he’d be using the pistol they could see in the waistband of his pants, but he currently made for an easy target.
Roach laughed as Vodka leaned down to Axel. “There is no ‘see what you can do’ when it comes to what Ransom wants, motherfucker. If Ransom says he wants more drugs, you’ll fucking get him more drugs. Got it? You don’t want to be on Ransom’s bad side.”
Roach kicked the man, aiming for his kidneys. Knowing it’d look weird for him just to stand there and watch, Cruz aimed a kick at the man as well, trying to avoid anything vulnerable. Vodka watched as Cruz and Roach beat the man on the ground until he wasn’t even flinching from their blows.
“That’s enough. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Vodka spit on Axel’s bloody body as he passed, and Roach and Cruz did the same thing.
As the group traveled back to the clubhouse, Cruz thought abou
t what he’d just found out. Chico Malo was the man in charge of a large criminal empire in Mexico. He was on the FBI’s most wanted list for the amount of drugs he was importing into the States, as well as for the alarming number of bodies that were found in his part of Mexico.
The Mexican drug lords sometimes gave themselves innocuous nicknames, knowing the dichotomy between the cutesy names and what they did would freak people the hell out. In Chico Malo’s case, it definitely worked. He might be called the “Bad Boy,” but everyone knew he was no boy. He was one bad motherfucker, and no one had the guts to go against him. Ransom was insane for drawing a line in the sand and getting the attention of the notorious, dangerous, drug dealer.
But this could be the proof the FBI needed to nail Chico Malo. He’d had no idea Axel was dealing directly with the notorious Mexican drug lord. Oh, he and the FBI had had Chico Malo in their sights for years, but if they could catch him in the act and get proof, it’d go a long way toward trying to get the “legitimate” Mexican officials to do something.
If Axel was scared of the man, that was saying something. Axel was a dangerous drug dealer in his own right. If Ransom thought he could take over Chico Malo’s empire and become a big fish in the drug world, Cruz knew he was sadly mistaken. Ransom was a big fish in his own small pond here in San Antonio. He wouldn’t last a day in the Bad Boy’s sandbox.
Cruz needed to get the intel to his boss as soon as possible. He had no idea when a confrontation was going to happen between Chico Malo and Ransom, but he knew it was coming. There was no way the Mexican drug lord would take the threat from Ransom lightly. Iron control, it was how all drug lords kept on top…that, and killing off their competition.
Cruz felt his phone vibrate in his pocket at the same time the ring tone sounded. He was loath to take it out in front of the others, but he had to. It could be Ransom or any of the other MC guys. It’d be suspicious if he didn’t answer.
He pulled the phone out of his pocket and felt his stomach drop when he saw it was Mickie calling. She hardly ever called him. She usually texted.
