ZEKE’S BABY: Midnight’s Hounds MC

by Evelyn Glass

  “Time for your bath, Monkey,” Stella said as the credits began to roll. Katrina, the master of stalling, managed to hold her mother off for ten more minutes before he heard them in the bathroom as water ran and splashed.

  Finally, Katrina appeared dressed in her pajamas, Stella behind her with the front of her shirt wet and clinging to her in a most appealing way. She grinned when she noticed him staring at her boobs.

  “She splashes a lot.”

  He grinned and nodded. “I hope she keeps it up.”

  Just before ten, Stella finished drying Katrina’s hair with a blow dryer before she came out and gave Gabriel a hug and thanked him for the trip to the zoo. He smiled as he stood out of sight by Katrina’s door while Stella read her Peter Parrot’s Peanuts, a sing-songy rhyming story about a hungry parrot looking for peanuts, but instead finding all kinds of stuff he couldn’t eat, until he finally found his peanuts on the last page.

  Stella gave her daughter a noisy, giggly, kiss, then turned out the light. She started slightly as she stepped out of the door and he was standing there.

  “You’re very good with her,” he said softly as they retreated to the family room.

  “She’s a good kid.”

  They settled onto the couch and she sighed. “Thank you for doing this today. I can’t remember having a better day.” She looked up into his eyes and smiled. “And it’s not over yet.”

  “It’s not?”

  “On no, babe. In twenty minutes or so she’ll be sound asleep, then you can do something for me.”

  “What’s that,” he breathed, his lips close to hers.

  She reached up beside her and snapped off the lamp as she smiled. “Surprise me.”

  He slid his hand behind her head and pulled her lips to him. As they kissed, she rose up and swung a leg over him, straddling him with her knees on the couch. They kept their clothes on in case little eyes appeared, but that didn’t prevent her passion from overwhelming her.

  She squirmed and moved, grinding her hips into him as their lips and tongues engaged in a war of passion. He wanted to rip her clothes off her and fuck her right there on the couch, to pound into her until they were both screaming in pleasure, but they had to wait until Katrina was asleep, the forced delay making him want her more with each passing moment.

  She gasped as he kissed her hard on her throat, her need growing with every kiss of his lip and every stroke of his tongue. “Oh, God, I want you,” she whispered into his ear as he ravaged her neck and throat, his hands seemingly everywhere as he caressed her body.

  “Later,” he whispered in reply, enjoying the game and wondering how wild he could make her before she couldn’t take it anymore. After a moment he twisted, laying her onto the couch, falling to his knees on the floor as he lay across her and held her down with his weight on her chest. As he kissed her long and deep, he slid a hand inside her shorts, carefully, gently teasing her with a finger, causing her to suck in a great lungful of air.

  It was yesterday morning all over again, his touch sending her passions soaring. She moaned into his mouth as he tickled her and she could feel the beginnings of an orgasm. She didn’t know if Katrina was completely asleep or not, but she didn’t care; they would just lock the door. She tried to rise and drag him to the bedroom, but he held her down, his finger slowly caressing her, his lips busy on her throat and neck.

  “Stop,” she whispered. “Take me to bed.”

  “No,” he breathed.

  “Katrina…”

  “She’s asleep,” he whispered into her neck.

  She bit her lip to stifle the moan from his touch, the naughtiness of what they were doing exciting her even more. She’d never made love to anyone with Katrina in the apartment, but somehow it seemed right doing the deed with her father, and the need to be quiet and the danger of getting caught stoked her passions.

  She pulled his mouth to hers then moaned long and low, her breath coming in fast pants as her hand tightened down on him. Her kiss became frenetic as she became still, then she moaned again, louder this time as a quiver passed through her.

  She flung her head back with a gasp and grabbed his wrist. “Stop, stop, stop!” she begged softly while tugging at his hand. She pulled his hand out of her shorts and sighed in relief. “Oh, you are so going to get it,” she murmured, smiling into his face before pulling his lips to hers once more.

  He staggered to his feet and pulled her up from the couch, then scooped her up into his arms. It was a tight squeeze down the short hall to the bedroom, and they paused to allow Stella to push the door open to check on Katrina.

  She smiled as she pulled the door almost shut. Katrina was on her back at an angle, her mouth open, with Ted tucked under her right arm. “She’s asleep.”

  He squeezed through the door into her bedroom and eased the door shut with a heel, before carrying her to her bed. He knee-walked to the center then carefully lowered her, following her down into a kiss. He pulled back from her lips with a smile. She was so completely different than any other woman he’d had. He’d always strove to leave his bedmates well satisfied, but with other women he wanted to fuck them for his pleasure. With Stella, it was different. He wanted to make love to her, to give her pleasure and to extract his pleasure from the giving of himself and the sharing of the moment.

  She watched as his face softened as he smiled down at her. “What are you thinking?”

  His smile widened as he sniffed out a short chuckle. “I was just realizing the difference between fucking and making love.”

  “Oh?”

  He lowered his lips to hers for a long slow kiss. “I make love to you. I fucked everyone else. I want to give you pleasure. I took it from everyone else. I want to stay and hold you. I usually left with everyone else.” He paused and watched her eyes for reaction. “I love you, I haven’t anyone else.”

  She looked into his eyes. She could sense her feelings for him, but she couldn’t bring herself to give them voice. He’d hurt her so badly she was afraid to admit them. She didn’t trust herself and wondered if the things she felt for him were passing fancy or if she were confusing lust and love. She wanted to repeat the words, to say what she could see he was hoping to hear, but try as she might, she couldn’t utter the phrase.

  He watched her struggle and felt a keen disappointment. He knew she needed time, and he was willing to give it to her, but for a moment he thought she was going to say it. “It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing her lips softly. “I don’t want you to say anything until you mean it.”

  The passion from the family room was fading. She had spoiled the moment by asking too many questions. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I know you need time.”

  She nodded. She dreamed of feeling this way, of having someone in her life, someone she could come home to, someone who loved her, and Katrina, and they could love in return. She wanted someone who could make her soar with pleasure, and support her in grief. She could sense his pull, the memories of their time together lending strength to the attraction, but it wasn’t enough, not yet, and she worried that it never would be. She enjoyed his company, and how he made her feel, so why couldn’t she at least admit her feelings to herself?

  He’d pushed too hard, gone to fast, and he’d broken the mood and pushed her away. He was willing to give her as much time as she needed, and pressing her by telling her how he felt wasn’t going to speed up the process. If anything, it would slow it down. He began to pull away and swallowed his disappointment as he prepared to leave to give her some space.

  “Don’t go!” she cried softly, pulling him back to her. “Stay with me. I want you to show me the difference between fucking and making love. Please.”

  He smiled, feeling like he’d taken another step. “With pleasure,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Gabriel began to slowly, seductively, undress Stella and caressed her flesh with his lips as it was revealed. He took his time, drawing out he
r pleasure, her quiet moans, breathy sighs, and slow erotic writhing as he slowly worked his way down her body reinforcing his need to possess her and make her his.

  She clawed at his shirt, dragging it over his head as he continued to kiss lower, wanting to feel the touch of his skin on hers. She gave herself over to him, allowing him to do with her as he wished, luxuriating in the feel of his lips and fingers as they touched and caressed.

  He unbuttoned her shorts, sliding them down her legs before throwing them and her soaked panties into the floor with her shirt and bra. He smiled when she whimpered softly as he kissed down the inside of her leg, but bypassed her womanhood, kissing along her thigh before stopping behind her knee.

  She ached to feel his mouth on her pussy, remembering the explosive orgasm he’d given her and wondering if he could do it again, but he moved past without kissing her. She groaned in frustration, his measured exploration of her body making her want more him even more.

  He watched her as he slowly slid his pants off and shoved them into the floor, liking how she looked at him and the hunger in her eyes. He began kissing back up her body, more quickly this time, dragging his fingers lightly over her curves. When he reached her lips, she tried to steer him between her legs, but he resisted, kissing her slowly until she stopped. He pulled back from the kiss, watching her eyes, then rolled to his back tugging at her.

  She smiled as she rolled on top of him, rising up and taking his cock in hand to steer it into her, but he pulled her up, then up again, dragging her upwards until she was kneeling over his face. He pulled her down and began to lick and probed with his tongue. Nobody had done this to her before, and excitement roared through her. She found she could control the pressure by raising or lowering slightly to maximize her pleasure, and she felt wicked as she squirmed her pussy into his face.

  As she got into it, he released her thighs and slid his hands up her body to caress her breasts. Her nipples were already erect, but he gently teased them harder still.

  “Fuck,” she breathed as she leaned forward and placed her hands against the wall at the head of her bed. He was working her up to an epic climax and she began to thrust harder at his face, wrapping herself in the warmth of it, her breathing becoming hard and fast. She couldn’t take it, the pleasure shredding her will, and she began to drawn in on herself, hunching over as she took his hair in his hands and held his mouth to her.

  Her hard loud groan as she shuddered was the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. It was an honest sound, the sound of a woman locked in the throes of a massive orgasm. She continued to hold his mouth too her as she groaned again and another wave of quivers passed over her, her hands pulling hard at his hair as he continued to tease her with tongue and lips.

  She lunged away from him, falling to the bed a quivering blob of pleasure. Never had she come like that, the pleasure so intense all she could do was ride the wave until it released her. She felt his lips touch hers and she took them hungrily, pulling at him and holding him into the kiss. As she recovered, she changed her mind about oral sex. Before she could take it or leave it, but that was because she hadn’t had a lover who knew how to please her. Until now. Now, she craved the feeling of his kiss, the touch of his tongue.

  “Did I hurt you?” she asked softly.

  He smiled. She had, pulling his hair painfully hard, but sometimes great sex left battle scars, and it was worth it to get to hear her groan like that. “No,” he lied, taking her lips again.

  As he pulled back, something clicked inside of her. She understood what he was talking about, the difference between making love and fucking. She often gave her lovers a blowjob, not because she wanted to, but because they wanted her to, and she felt like it was expected. But as she turned in the bed, she wanted to taste him, wanted him in her mouth, wanted to give him a face-melting orgasm as he’d just he’d given her. Not because he wanted he wanted her to, but because she wanted to. She draped herself across his body and took him deep into her mouth. She could feel him throbbing with every heartbeat, and she smiled as he hissed.

  She worked on him, plunging him into her mouth. What she lacked in skills she made up for with enthusiasm, and her purrs and coos as she licked, sucked, and stroked were turning him on in a big way. He placed his hands on her head, feather light, gritting his teeth against the searing pleasure of her mouth.

  She felt a rush of excitement as his hands gently pushed her head down. She knew she was getting to him and that excited her in a new and profound way. Before sex was always about her orgasms and her pleasure, but here, now, hearing him gasp and hiss in desire, brought back memories of how she felt when they were together. She remembered how she did things just to please him, baking him his favorite chocolate chip cookies, watching a movie with him just because he wanted to see it, or how they explored their sexuality together. He was the first man she took into her mouth, and he’d been the last she’d done so eagerly…until tonight.

  “Ah…fuck!” he growled. “You’re going to make me come.”

  Hearing the strain in his voice, the gentle pumps of his hips and the light pressure of his hands, caused her to redouble her efforts. She’d never allowed a man to come in her mouth, not even him, but tonight she would.

  “Stop! I can’t hold it! I’m going to come!” he gasped, struggling to hold his orgasm, remembering how she didn’t want him coming in her mouth.

  “I want you to come,” she whispered before plunging him into her mouth again, battering the tip with her tongue.

  “I can’t—” he gasped before he barked softly, finally losing his battle with his body.

  He spilled into her mouth and she braced herself not to gag and spoil the moment, but was surprised she didn’t find it as objectionable as she expected. She continued to suck and lick, delighting in how he grunted and twitched as she subjected him to sweet torture.

  “Good boy,” she purred as she pulled him from her mouth, slowly stroking his cock as she took his lips, pleased he took them with gusto, seemingly to not mind the slickness of her tongue.

  She rolled to her back, tugging at him as she did, so he would follow. He moved between her legs then kissed her leisurely as he pushed himself into her.

  Her hands gripped his muscular arms, then slid up and around his back, her fingers digging in and pulling him down. He dropped, supporting most of his weight on elbows as he buried his face in her neck and tangled his hands in her hair, grunting softly with each slow thrust. This was making love! This was the connection, the feeling of closeness, that she’d been missing since he left.

  He moved within her with long, slow strokes, each repetition more pleasurable than the last. He liked how she wrapped him up, her fingers biting into his back as she held him tight, her thighs squeezing his waist.

  “Oh, God, you feel so good,” she murmured, his breathy grunts of pleasure exciting her at a deep level.

  Her words flogged him, whipping his desire into a frenzy, and he gripped her hair, trying to control his need. “I want you,” he gasped. “I want to so bad. I can’t…” He paused, not sure what he wanted to say, his need for her blotting out rational thought.

  She could feel the strain in his body, the twisting of muscle as he fought to maintain control, but she didn’t want him in control. She wanted to experience him out of control, his need for her making her feel sexy and desired like never before. “Take me,” she whispered, her need feeding off his. “Take me like you want. Show me that you want me.”

  Her words snipped the remaining thread of his control. With a groan he pushed up onto his hands and began driving into her hard and fast as his passion overtook him, throwing his head back as his face twisted and his mouth opening in a silent, primal, roar of pleasure.

  She began to whimper as he took her with sweet violence, his hard driving strokes pushing her to toward her rapture. “That’s it, fuck me!” she hissed as her own face twisted in ecstasy. He began to growl, his head tipping forward as he tried to pound her through the bed. Her or
gasm was coming, and coming hard, consuming her as it grew in power.

  Her soft cry of her release pushed him over the edge. With a shuddering groan he collapsed into her, twisting his hands in her hair as he burned with orgasmic fire, holding her and never wanting to let her go.

  She held him tight as she writhed in pleasure, biting his shoulder softly so she didn’t shout her rapture to the world. “Oh, God!” she breathed as her climax released her, leaving her awash in the aftermath of her orgasm.

  He lay still with his face in her neck, panting and trying to catch his breath, before he rolled off of her to relieve her of his weight. “Oh, God, is right,” he said, throwing an arm above his head, still trying to catch his breath.