She deep throated him again and tasted a pearly seed of pre-cum. Pulling his shaft from her mouth, she commanded, “Don’t cum yet, sub. Hold off until I say you can.”
From beneath the blonde, he mumbled, “Yes, mistress.”
Then she swirled her tongue beneath the ridge of his cock head, sucked him, and swirled her tongue around the shaft as she descended then ascended. But her own desire took over and demanded her needs be met. So she straddled his penis and told the blonde to turn around.
“Let me free, please, mistress?” Corey begged.
“Not yet,” Bekka said, and she gave his thigh a sharp slap. “Soon. Behave.”
He went back to eating the blonde’s pussy after she turned to face Bekka. Now Bekka claimed the woman’s lips again as she slid down onto Corey’s cock. She moaned against the woman’s mouth as his girth stretched her wide and filled her up. Slowly she rocked on top of him while the blonde reached down to stroke Bekka’s clit.
Bekka’s hands molded to the woman’s breasts and she teased her nipples, kneaded those firm, round globes, while she rode Corey, grinding her hips as her bliss climbed higher. She caressed the woman’s back, kissed her neck, and this affection was returned. Together, they got lost in this sensual dance. It spurred Bekka’s lust on until she fucked Corey faster and faster, her need to come growing feral.
The blonde’s touch and Corey’s thick cock brought her to climax, and an intense orgasm shivered through her, making her cling to the woman and kiss her madly. The woman came with her from Corey’s expert tongue.
Corey muttered, “Can I cum now, please, mistress?”
“Yes, sub,” Bekka said, still riding him as she drifted in a haze of sexual satisfaction. “Come hard deep inside of me.”
He drove his cock into her hard, pistoning in and out of her pussy until he spilled his seed and flooded her with warmth. She and the blonde climbed off of him and Bekka told him to flip so she could unfasten the manacles. After she did, he took her in his arms and kissed her deep and raw. The blonde joined them, and they became a tangle of arms and legs.
They pleasured one another for three hours. Tongues and fingers explored every inch of flesh, and Bekka lost count of how many orgasms she’d had. She and the blonde took turns fucking Corey, and he gave as much pleasure as he received, either with cock, fingers, or mouth.
But the time arrived when their guest had to leave, and Bekka paid their temporary lover then saw her out before she snuggled up on the bed beside Corey.
“Did you like your wedding present?” she said, her face pressed against his chest. His fine hairs tickled her nose.
“Very much.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll give you yours when we get home. How about a membership to Entwined?”
She smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
And, this time, she knew it would be—their life together, their relationship. This second chance would not be wasted. They’d get to do all the things they had wanted to do before, have all the adventures they had dreamed of. Finally, Corey and Bekka would get their happily ever after.
***
If you’ve enjoyed Bad Boy Werewolf: Bad Boys of BDSM Vol. 1 and Claimed by the Bad Boy: Bad Boys of BDSM Vol. 2, watch for Bad Boy Biker: Bad Boys of BDSM Vol. 3 coming soon! Be sure to check out some of our other BDSM erotic romance releases. Our Surrender Series Boxed Set and BDSM Romance Collection are only 99 cents for a limited time! Or pick up our 50 Shades of Fairy Tales Omnibus. Read on for your bonus excerpt. For more information on all our titles and our authors, visit: http://wildlawlesswriters.blogspot.com/
***
Look for our books on Amazon, Kobo, Smashwords, Barnes & Noble, All Romance Ebooks and Bookstrand. Or visit http://wildlawlesswriters.blogspot.com/ for a complete list of our titles. Read on for bonus material from Wild & Lawless Writers.
***
Enjoy a scorching excerpt from an upcoming Wild & Lawless release, Bad Boy Biker: Bad Boys of BDSM Vol. 3 by C.J. Sneere. Coming in late June / early July, this next installment is filled with hot shifter man love!
Bad Boy Biker
Bad Boys of BDSM Volume 3
C.J. Sneere
Chapter 2
Haden drew his gun from his jeans then crawled on his belly toward the farmhouse. Mickey J was still close by, but a glance to his left showed Big C was gone. He didn’t worry, though. He knew the VP of Lucifer’s Chosen could take care of himself.
At the base of the porch, Haden squatted beside Mickey J. They waited for a break in the gunfire then rose up and let bullets fly. Haden got one of the Nighthawks and the side of the biker’s head burst in a shower of blood, brain, and bone. He fell to the crimson stained wooden slats just as Haden dropped back down out of firing range.
He swallowed hard over and over to keep from puking. His hands shook, but there was no time to absorb this shock. The life he’d just taken was his first kill. He knew the biker way meant getting blood on your hands, but he just hadn’t expected it to be tonight.
How fucking naïve, he thought, moments before Mickey J grabbed his shoulder and shouted, “Move, now!”
Keeping low, Haden and Mickey ran toward the side of the farmhouse. More men on the porch fell, but the roar of engines was deafening now, and when Haden got a glimpse at one of the riders that sour ball of dread in his gut grew heavier.
He knew the cut this rider wore: a man hanging from the gallows with Death at his side. It marked him as one of the Condemned Sons, a MC who were allies of the Nighthawks. Haden and Lucifer’s Chosen were screwed. Mickey J said Rebels & Rogues would be backing them up tonight, but they were nowhere in sight yet. If they didn’t get here soon, Lucifer’s Chosen could lose a lot of men.
Breathing hard and trying not to panic, Haden ran after Mickey J toward a back entrance they’d planned to use to sneak up on the Nighthawks. Though their strategy for tonight had gone up in smoke, they still had to try.
The night was coming on thick, and with the surrounding pines casting dense shadows, it was difficult to see two feet in front of him. Before he could reach his destination, Haden was clipped by the ape hangers of an oncoming Harley. He stumbled to the ground, taking the bike’s side mirror with him. Hard packed earth met his skull, and stars burst across his vision.
When he tried to get up, a motorcycle boot sank into his ribs. Pain exploded through his side and his body tensed from the blow. Another blow rocketed his skull sideways, making it feel as if his head had split in two. Someone yanked his gun from his hand then punched him in the face, sending him back to the ground.
The salty iron tang of blood trickled into his mouth. Agony squeezed him tight and seared his every nerve as they took the boots to him again. He briefly lost consciousness when someone rammed a steel toe repeatedly into his shoulder. The crunching of broken bone echoed in his head just before darkness bled in.
When he woke up, he couldn’t tell if hours or minutes had gone by, but the world was still covered in inky night. A click drew his attention and he focused on the gun pointed at his face. Boots pressed to his shoulders held him down. The broken one blazed with raw pain.
“You rotten little shit,” someone above him growled, and Haden knew the voice well. It belonged to Kurt ‘Bones’ Hall, the president of the Nighthawks. “I give you a chance, and his is how you repay me? I should send your head to your sister.”
A cold unlike anything he’d ever felt seeped into Haden. He was going to die, and he’d fucked everything up. Lisa would never forgive him. At least if Bones sent his head to her, she’d know his fate. The thought was so absurd and grotesque he wanted to laugh, though there was nothing funny about this messed up situation.
Bones aimed the gun and Haden clenched his bladder, afraid he might piss himself as he stared down the end.
Then a roar ripped through the air, and this one didn’t come from a motorcycle. It was pure animal, and the silhouettes surrounding Haden fluttered as the men moved to see what made this noise. A scream pierced Haden�
��s eardrums. Bones forgot all about him as he muttered, “Shit, the cavalry is here.”
The pain must’ve made Haden hallucinate, because some of the men standing over him began to change. Their backs curled and their bodies morphed into something halfway between human and animal. A cougar sprinted away from the group toward the bellow of other animals, which now grew louder.
Bones aimed his gun at something else, but before he could fire, a massive shaggy white paw swooped out and long, thick claws gouged flesh from the man’s side. Blood gushed from the open torso of the Nighthawks president, and he crumpled to his knees.
A shot sparked from Bone’s gun and clipped the attacking beast in the neck. It let out a thunderous bawling and charged. This giant white bear cleaved Bone’s head clean off his shoulders.
Whooping filled Haden’s ears, but the sound came through watery, like he was drowning. He knew he was slipping back into the abyss. Mickey J’s voice floated to him, saying to someone unseen, “It’s about time you bastards got here.”
And then the roar of more motorbikes buzzed in Haden’s head like a swarm of angry hornets. But they were distant, muffled by the heavy grogginess that filled his head like cotton. Before he passed out again, the murky shape of the great white bear fell over him, and he just hoped death would be quick.
***
A brilliant, blinding agony yanked Haden back to the land of the living. His eyes refused to focus and his head felt three sizes bigger than it should have been.
A blurry woman leaned over him. He could make out smudges of hair the color of ginger, creamy skin, but that was about it. A man stood beside her, and their blurry hands worked on Haden’s shoulder.
“We should get him to a hospital,” the man said. “He could have a major concussion, and he needs X-rays.”
From somewhere in the room, a voice like broken glass raked over gravel spoke, “Can’t do it, Doc. The Nighthawks will want a body, and they won’t be satisfied until they get one. They’ll be checking every hospital from here to Vancouver General for this kid.”
A sickening crunch preceded agony that sliced Haden’s every nerve wide open. He screamed as the smudgy man and woman set his shoulder back into place.
His world slowly came back into focus as the woman began wrapping his shoulder. Bright green eyes stood out in her plain, pretty face. She helped him sit forward so she could put a sling on his arm.
She smiled and gently eased him back against his pillows. “Do you remember what happened?”
As she asked this question, the doctor, a round, short guy with silvery blonde hair and wire rimmed glasses, sat on the side of the bed. He shone a light in his eyes as Haden answered, “Our ambush got ambushed. We were going to shut down the Nighthawks meth lab, but they knew we were coming. Condemned Sons came in to back them up.”
The woman nodded and seemed pleased by his clear memory of last night’s event.
“Look left,” the doctor told him. “Look right.” Haden’s eyes watered from the piercing light and his head ached like a rotten tooth. “Look up. Down. Good. Now cover your left eye.” The doctor help up an open paperback. “Can you read the words on this page?”
Haden rattled off some sentences and the doctor appeared satisfied. He asked him to repeat the process with the other eye. The doctor nodded and clicked off his light, slipping it in his blazer pocket. He held up a pen and asked Haden to follow it with his gaze, then did a few other tests. Haden’s eyes throbbed in their sockets by the time he was done.
“Do you feel pressure in your head? Any dizziness?”
By now, Haden was growing tired of the examination. “My head hurts like hell. Don’t feel too dizzy, though.”
The woman asked Haden if he remembered his full name and birth date and he rattled these off, “Haden Samuel Probst. I was born May 17, 1993.” The doctor looked dubiously convinced.
“If the headache continues, or there’s any persistent dizziness or vomiting, call me,” the doctor said. “You’re damn lucky, Haden. I’ll be back in a couple days to check on you. Make sure he keeps that shoulder immobilized, Tessa. Don’t let him sleep too much.”
“Sure thing, Doc,” the woman said. She pulled up a wooden chair beside him. “I’ll keep you company for a while.”
Haden couldn’t even manage a nod. His whole body felt like one massive aching wound. At least he could move his eyes without too much misery. So he scanned the room he was lying in.
The bed had a simple pine frame, and most of the furniture was white pine. The walls were also made of pine logs, stained a medium brown.
Near the doorway, the doctor stood talking to a biker who towered over him. The guy wore a vest with a back patch that marked him as a member of Rebels & Rogues. This biker was so tall he’d have to duck to get through the door. Tattoos snaked over his heavily muscled arms, and his square jaw was peppered with dark stubble. His hair was short and dark brown, but strands fell over his piercing, ocean blue eyes. He had a prominent nose, which he looked down when he glared in Haden’s direction. The guy would’ve been hot if he wasn’t raging with anger.
“Thanks for fixing him up, Doc,” the big man said, shaking the hand of the smaller blonde gent.
“No problem,” the doctor said, before exiting the room. “I owed Tessa and Bear a favor. There’s a bottle of Tylenol 3’s on the night table for his pain. Don’t let him take too much.”
The two men left the bedroom together, and Haden focused on Tessa once more. “Where am I?”
“You’re at Tag’s place.” At his confused look, she added, “He brought you here with Mickey J after Lucifer’s Chosen and Rebels & Rogues took out the lab.”
“How’d we do?” Haden was afraid to ask, but he had to know.
“Lucifer’s Chosen lost three members. Nighthawks lost a lot more after Rebels & Rogues showed up.”
He had conflicting emotions over that, but he stayed blank-faced in front of Tessa. He was glad Lucifer’s Chosen and Rebels & Rogues took on minimal damage, glad the Nighthawks lab was closed, for now at least, but the lives lost, including the one he’d taken, haunted him.
“Keep him awake,” the gravelly voiced guy stalked up to the side of the bed.
Tessa gave a small grin. “Haden, this is Tag.”
“Kid, you’re lucky,” the big man growled and glared. “Mickey J should’ve iced your ass for this.”
“I didn’t rat him out to the Nighthawks,” Haden’s shout came out a rasp. “I don’t know how they found out about the ambush.”
Tag grunted and grabbed a chair. He swung it around beside the bed and straddled it. “No, but we do.” He held up Haden’s cell. “We use disposable phones for a reason.” The giant biker threw it on the bed. “Never keep one over a week. Got it?”
Haden just nodded, and pain bloomed through his shoulder and pounded his brain.
“You remember Bruce McFadden?” Tag said.
“Yeah, he’s a prospect with the Nighthawks.” Bewilderment mixed with Haden’s misery.
Tag made a sound like a disgusted scoff. “He bugged your phone. He’s been watching you, following you. He’s the one who ratted you out to the Nighthawks, how they found out about the ambush.”
Haden’s stomach did sick flips, and it had nothing to do with pain this time.
Tag scooped the phone off the bed and stomped toward the entrance. “I’m destroying this now. We’ll get you a new one when you deserve it.”
“My sister,” Haden blurted, and the giant stopped at the door, throwing another glare his way when he turned around. “I need to call her… What about my money?”
Another disgusted scoff from the big biker. He removed an envelope from his back jeans pocket and tossed it onto the bed. “There’s your cash. Good thing Mickey J is generous. He deducted $400 for the shit you caused.”
He went to leave again, but Haden wasn’t through talking. “I need to get this to Lisa, my sister.”
Tag’s frown deepened, creating wrinkles above th
e bridge of his nose. “I’ll get it to her. You aren’t going anywhere.”
That was when Haden realized his free hand was handcuffed to the bed post.
***
Chapter 3
The kid had some balls asking about money after such a massive screw up.
Tag took Haden’s cell phone outside and smashed it with his splitting axe, then he threw it in the trash. The obliteration hadn’t been necessary, but it felt good.
He sat on a stump close by his cabin after pulling his own phone out of his pocket. He’d promised Mickey J an update once the kid was awake and Doc Gibson had looked him over.
Mickey answered after the phone purred its second ring. “Hey, how’s the kid?”
“He’ll live. Doc Gibson thinks he’s got a mild concussion. Shoulder’s broken, but it looks like a clean break. Missing a few teeth from the fight.”
A sigh of relief filtered through from Mickey’s end. “Thanks for watching him, man. Big C called a vote a few hours ago. The club rejected Haden as a prospect.”
Tag snorted. “Big surprise. The kid would be meeting the Reaper if it were up to me.” Lucifer’s Chosen wouldn’t let in a screw up they couldn’t trust. It’d be a long time before Haden would re-earn the respect of them or Rebels & Rogues.
“Hey, come on, Tag. You know I owe this kid. Old Man Bear does, too.”
“No, we owed his father,” Tag snapped. “Danny was a good man. This kid is nothing like him. Can’t believe they share DNA.”
“Danny Probst saved my life. I repay my debts. Danny and Teresa might be gone, but their kids need help. And Lisa can’t stand bikers, so she won’t take anything from us. I tried, told her we’re her family, but she told me to fuck off. Jesse left her paranoid about us.”
“I don’t know why you and Old Man Bear put up with it,” Tag grumbled.
“Just told you. We owe it to Danny and Teresa. Those kids are family.”
“Does the kid know his father was with Lucifer’s Chosen?” Tag got up from the stump, craving a spliff as he walked toward the house, but he’d wait until later, when business was done. “Why’d he hook up with the Nighthawks in the first place?”
Shifters & Bad Boys Bundle (Shifters & Bad Boys. Man love, bdsm, and rockstar romance. Book 1) Page 48
