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Snatch: Cerberus MC Book 5

Page 7

by Marie James


  She pouts, an attempt to look sexy. I resist the urge to tell her it might work any other night, but the smear of her lipstick on her teeth really isn’t doing it for me.

  “Pissy,” she whispers. “Nothing a blowjob won’t fix.”

  Her friend is already cozied up next to Ace, standing between his open thighs and running her hand and over his cut, tracing his patches with an overly long fingernail. If he’s not careful, he’ll lose an eye to one of those damned things by tomorrow.

  “How about you?” my admirer says to Snake, thankfully giving up any idea she might have had about us hooking up.

  “I love blowjobs,” he says with a smile around the mouth of his beer bottle.

  I stand, drop some cash on the table, and rap my knuckles on the top. “See you guys back at the clubhouse.”

  I hear one of the girls giggle and mention always wanting to go to a real MC clubhouse. Snake cuts her off, explaining that not just anyone can go inside, but promises to fuck her with his cut on. I walk away from the train wreck, thankful the three beers I drank tonight is way below my limit to safely drive away from this shit show without having to call someone to come pick me up.

  Chapter 11

  Itchy

  “What a fucking nightmare,” Shadow says leaning back on the bar stool, back against the wall.

  We’re in a shitty bar, in a shitty hotel, in a shitty town in Costa Rica, needing a little time to wind down after a brutal week.

  “It went better than we expected,” Kincaid says, keeping his eyes on the locals who don’t seem very happy we’re here.

  “A dead girl and an American who won’t even talk because she’s afraid we just signed her entire family’s death certificates?” Snatch asks from beside me. I’m honestly surprised he willingly chose to sit next to me. I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong but the heat from his legs is burning a fire through mine that’s almost enough to make me combust. His eyes have followed me all week, but each night we fall into bed exhausted from eighteen hour days, so he hasn’t made a move. Not that I expect him to.

  “We pulled four girls from that building,” Kincaid says to Snatch. “Including the one we came to get. That’s a win in my book.”

  “She’ll never be the same,” I lament. She was brutalized beyond what most people could even imagine without copious amounts of searching in some seedy ass corners of the internet.

  “They never are,” Kincaid agrees, taking his eyes from the crowd to meet those of my best friend. “They never are.”

  I turn my attention back to my beer as Kincaid and Shadow talk for a few minutes. I’m peeling the label, arms on the table in front of us when I see Shadow stand and make his way across the bar to a tiny, albeit smoking hot woman.

  I shake my head, watching her look up at him like he’s her savior. Every one of us is well aware that the chick Misty from Denver has him all twisted up. They didn’t have a relationship or anything, but she won’t text him back or answer when he calls. I’m certain it’s the rejection and not actually her that’s got him so fucked up. Prez may be all wrapped up in Em, trying to get pregnant, and Kid is head over fucking heels for Khloe, but Shadow will never settle down. It’s not in his DNA.

  Snatch’s leg hits mine, a sign that something, or rather someone has caught his eye. Rather than look at him, I look up and find not one, not two, but three beautiful South American women looking in our direction.

  I’m ecstatic, more because he’s actually interested in fucking even if it involves women. It’s been over a month since the night of the blindfold and him pretending to fuck my ass while he was pounding into Darby. Just the thought makes my cock start to thicken.

  “Three?” I ask not taking my eyes from the women across the bar, each one beautiful on their own, but a sweet fucking enticement together.

  “You up for it?” he challenges.

  I side eye him but keep track of the big fucker in the corner who is none too pleased with the attention we’re getting from the women in the bar.

  “You know how I feel about being outnumbered,” I mutter.

  His hearty laugh washes over me and I know I’d agree to whatever the fuck he wants right now.

  “Afraid you’ll get rolled by those Latin beauties?”

  I scoff. “Hardly, but that’s more holes than dicks, and you know how I feel about eating foreign pussy.”

  He nods. The rule is, don’t put your mouth on anything you can’t personally account for, especially when you’re on international soil, in a country that has second-rate medical care.

  “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it,” he says.

  I pull my eyes from the sneering asshole in the corner back to the three women who are working very hard to get our attention. I raise an eyebrow as one woman runs her hand up the thigh of the one in the middle. It disappears under her dress, and my skin heats as I imagine the sound of her gasp as it leaves her mouth even though we’re too far away to actually hear it.

  “I think she’ll be easy enough to convince to eat pussy all night long.” The sound of his beer bottle hitting the table in front of us with an echoing thud pulls my mind from the dirty things I plan to do with them, the dirty things I picture doing to Snatch. “Let’s go.”

  I stand when he does, barely stopping the urge to reach down, grab his hand, and insist it should just be us tonight. A tilt of his head toward the door is all it takes for the women to start sauntering our way. Five minutes later we’re upstairs in the hotel room, with the promise of so many orgasms we’re sure to be sore as fuck tomorrow.

  ***

  My internal alarm clock wakes me just as the sun is peeking over the horizon. I look around the room as the first hints of daylight filter through the thin ass curtains. Snatch’s bed is empty, the girls having been shuffled out before we closed our eyes less than five hours ago. The water running and an occasional grunt from the bathroom tells me exactly where he’s at.

  I groan, turning over, feeling the tightness of my muscles in my legs. It’s as if I did squats for hours, and added an extreme ab workout, but good fucking should always leave you a little spent the next day.

  I close my eyes, picture the way he touched me last night. It wasn’t overtly obvious, but the graze of his hand against my arm when he was showing one of the girls how I liked my cock sucked, and the way he gripped my thigh as he came while we were both going at one of the women didn’t go unnoticed either.

  My spent cock has the gumption to twitch at the memory, but it’s the familiar grunt from the bathroom that has it flagging at damn near attention. I know what he’s doing before I get off the bed and confirm it with my eyes.

  I stand in the doorway, watching my frustrated friend as he leans over, one forearm against the shower wall as he jerks his cock with a tight grip.

  “Damn it,” he mutters.

  I watch, unabashedly for several long minutes. Water cascades down his muscular back, his tattoos rippling with each frustrated jerk.

  “Leave me alone,” he hisses, never opening his eyes, but sensing my presence.

  I don’t move a muscle, other than the ones in my face pulling my lips up in a grin. “You came three times last night, and yet here you are stroking another one out in the shower? It’s going to fucking fall off if you don’t let it rest.”

  His hand slows, but his need is too much to remove his hand completely. Silently, I close the distance between us. The hotel is so shitty, there isn’t even a shower curtain in here, but going along with the shitty accommodations is the rough concrete floor, so slipping while it’s wet isn’t a concern.

  “It wasn’t enough,” he complains.

  “That’s not true, and you know it,” I say startling him now that I’m so close I could reach out and touch him.

  “Those women,” he begins, but I interrupt.

  “Were amazing, and you damn well know it.”

  “Yet, I wake up with a raging hard on,” he spits, his exasperation growing by the second.<
br />
  “It wasn’t what you needed,” I explain as I step into the shower with him.

  I keep my distance, but he knows I’m in here with him.

  “I came three times,” he says repeating my words from a minute ago.

  His eyes fly open when my hand wraps around his, but he doesn’t deck me. His mouth opens on a pleasure-filled gasps as his eyes race back and forth between mine.

  “It wasn’t what you needed.” I sink to my knees, hating Central America and harsh fucking concrete on my knees, but loving being alone with him in this shower over three thousand miles from home.

  His fist strikes the wall with a thud, and he mumbles obscenities when my lips wrap around the angry red crown of his cock. I look up, expecting to find his eyes clenched tight, taking what I’m offering but refusing to visually acknowledge that it’s coming from a man. Rather, I find his bright blue eyes, wide awake, half-lidden and watching every stroke of my tongue down his shaft. My own dick hardens painfully at his attention. My grunt of approval can be felt in the tremble of his thighs against my hands.

  “Fuck, that’s good,” he praises, hips moving his cock deeper.

  Doubling my efforts at the sound of his panting breaths, I no longer feel the bite of the rough texture ripping into my knees. It’s overpowered by the silky slide of his cock against my tongue and the coarse hair under my hands at his thighs.

  “Stroke yourself,” he commands, my fist obeying before the words fully leave his mouth.

  My eyes find his once more after long minutes of giving the most enthusiastic blowjob of my life with no completion on his part. It isn’t saying much, considering I can count them all on one hand. I’m sure he overexerted himself last night.

  I nearly come when his hand finds the back of my head, but whimper at the loss as fear sinks heavy in my gut when he pulls himself from my mouth.

  “This isn’t what I need either,” he says with such conviction, I scramble to my feet, fully prepared to take his fist to my jaw since he’s clearly seen the light.

  He reaches for one of the bottles in the shower squirting some of the product into his palm. I turn to leave, swallowing the rage I feel at his blatant rejection. He’s going to finish his fucking shower and pretend I didn’t just have his dick down my throat.

  “The fuck are you going?” he growls just as his rough hand finds my arms.

  Before I can answer, I’m spun to face the wall, and I feel his fingers run down my back, stopping a mere inch from my asshole.

  “Tell me to stop,” he hisses in my ear. “Tell me that fucking your ass in the shower is taking it too far. Tell me you don’t want it.”

  My eyes flutter closed when his fingers tease me, lubricated by the conditioner he poured into his hand.

  “I—I,” I grunt when he pushes past the first tight ring, only to withdraw and enter again with two thick fingers. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t what?” he taunts.

  His fingers never stop. He’s working them, scissoring them, preparing me to take his cock, and I’m in bliss with the thought of giving myself to him that way.

  “I can’t tell you to stop,” I finally manage to answer. “I want you to fuck me.”

  “Jesus.” He takes a step closer, chest against my back, rock hard cock sandwiched between us. “You sure?”

  I nod, face scraping against the roughly tiled wall. His free hand is inches from my face, palm flat against the wall and I want to beg him to fist my cock the same way he was working his earlier, but I can’t find the courage, afraid if I ask too much from him it will all stop. I have to be content with the contact at my spine, especially since it’s the most skin on skin we’ve ever shared.

  As if he can read my thoughts and they’re too complicated for him, he takes a step back, and the loss of his warmth makes my heart pound as if it’s trying to escape my chest.

  “Please,” I beg, unsure at this point if I’m asking for him to fill me or just leave me alone to mourn his loss.

  His fingers never stop probing, but his hand near my face is gone, and a second later I feel the tip of his cock replace his fingers, toying exactly where I need him.

  My eyes widen when he pushes a fraction of an inch deeper.

  Fuck this was a bad idea.

  Every muscle in my body tenses at his intrusion, rejecting the invasion of his length.

  “Relax.” The word hits my ear on a groan of his own.

  “Snatch,” I hiss, the burn from the stretch ten times greater than his fingers, the tremble in my legs almost too much to keep me standing.

  “This is what I need.” He pulls back before sliding back in. “This is what those women couldn’t give me.”

  I almost argue with him knowing he fucked two of the three in the ass last night. I’d groaned last night seeing him fight his way inside of them. When he closed his eyes, I had imagined he was doing it so it would be easier to pretend they were me.

  “Nothing compares,” he adds.

  My balls tighten painfully when his hand travels from my chest, over my abdomen to fist my cock.

  “Fuck,” I spit, the pleasure from his grip alleviating some of the burn from his invasion.

  It isn’t until I feel the scratch of his thigh hair against the back of my own legs that I realize he’s fully seated inside of me. His moans build an energy so low and intense in my gut. I know the release I’m going to find is going to be vicious, ripping from me with a fury I’ve never experienced before.

  His hips move back as his hand strokes down my length until it’s against my belly. When he pushes back inside, his hand works up to my tip. He’s a machine, cock and hand operating in perfect synchronicity.

  I don’t know how long we’ve been like this, seconds feel like a millennia, yet all the time in the world with him like this would not even come close to being enough.

  “Damn,” he says awe filling his voice when my body clamps down on him as the tingle traveling down my spine draws my nuts up.

  His fist works faster, coaxing my release with the expert precision only a man who works his own cock on a regular basis can.

  “I’m gonna…” I never finish my sentence as my cock begins pulsing my release on the wall of the shower.

  “Shit.” His hips move faster, driving deeper for several strokes before his own release hits. The jolts and kicks of his own cock blends with mine.

  We’re both panting, breaths coming harsh and too fast, mine against the wall since I’m still pinned, his against my back since his forehead is resting there.

  “Fuck,” he says, taking a step back and slowly pulling out. “I came inside of you.”

  I can’t help but laugh. I was certain he was going to freak out that he just fucked a guy in a shower in a shitty hotel in Costa Rica while he was completely sober. His concern for the mess is something I can handle.

  “Don’t worry,” I say turning around and catching water in my cupped hands so I can rinse the shower wall. I wink at him. “I’m on the pill.”

  “Asshole,” he says, punching me on the shoulder before walking out of the bathroom soaking wet.

  I catch his smile in the mirror on the wall as he crosses the threshold. I can only hope that his jovial mood sticks around this time. I’d rather none of this shit happened in the first place if it meant avoiding his silent treatment for weeks.

  Chapter 12

  Snatch

  “I’m coming,” Darby gasps as if we can’t tell by the rippling squeeze of her body on both our cocks.

  “That’s right,” Itchy hisses, voice nearly gone from our wild night as he pushes into her from below.

  With trembling legs and a racing heart, I pound into her with relentless thrusts, enjoying her moans as much as the slide of my best friend’s cock against my own when he drills into her pussy, and I take her ass.

  Looking for a better grip on her hips for the finale, my wandering hand brushes against the calloused fingertips of Itchy’s hand. Rather than move a few inches higher
or lower like would’ve been protocol a few months ago, I twine my fingers in his, the simple point of contact saying things my mouth hasn’t found the courage to utter.

  Looking over Darby’s shoulder, my drowsy morning eyes find his just as his other hand clamps down on my thigh.

  “Come for me,” he commands.

  Mouth opening on a harsh pant, my head nods ever so slightly, acknowledging his order. His words, combined with the rough grasp of his hand on my leg send me careening over the edge.

  “Fuck,” I murmur as I pulse inside of Darby, feeling like an asshole because, for the first time since we’ve shared her, I wish she wasn’t in between us.

  His teeth dig into his bottom lip as his orgasm takes root, and I feel his cock jerk against mine.

  “That’s a perfect way to wake up,” Darby says with a chuckle and deep roll of her hips.

  The way his eyes dart from me to her, makes me wonder if he’d forgotten she was there as well.

  “It’s gonna be a great day,” Itchy says with a sharp slap to her ass cheek as she shifts forward and we fall free of her.

  “Always,” she whispers against his lips before climbing off the bed and heading to the bathroom.

  What seems like an eternity later I realize that not only am I still straddling his legs, but our hands are clasped together, and our latex covered, softening cocks are resting against each other.

  My eyes follow his to our dicks, the attention enough to make me twitch in anticipation even after an orgasm that should’ve left me drained.

  “Let me help you with that,” he says, his fingers pulling free from mine and reaching for my cock that begins to thicken, meeting his hand half way.

  Humming from the bathroom as Darby turns on the shower barely registers in my ears as Itchy pulls the condom from my cock. My hips jolt as his thumb sweeps the sensitive underside.

 

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