Ink's Devil: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #5

Home > Other > Ink's Devil: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #5 > Page 2
Ink's Devil: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #5 Page 2

by Manda Mellett


  She’s shy. I grin, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a sight like that. The club girls would have left nothing to the imagination and probably would be playing with themselves by now. Strangely I find I like the change.

  I grin as I see where her eyes are focused. “Like what you see?”

  Not too shy, I have to quickly amend, when I hear her reply, “Is that all you’ve got?”

  Is that all I’ve fucking got? But fuck me if I don’t look down to check my cock hasn’t shrunk in the wash. Nope, it’s all there in its impressive glory. Has she been with bigger men before? Or is she just yanking my chain? I suspect it’s the latter, but if not, she’s going to learn size doesn’t matter, it’s what you do with it that counts. I’ve no doubt I can impress her on that account. All she’s doing is racking up punishments. First one, I start counting in my head.

  Her casual words are at odds with her behaviour. Even from here I can tell she’s turned on. Her state betrayed by the red flush on her face which extends down her neck to the top of her breasts hidden under that arm. Her pupils are large, and the air has that faint tinge of sex, making my nostrils flare.

  “Move your arm, babe. Put your hands over your head. And open your legs. Fair’s fair. You’ve seen my goods, now let me see what you’ve got.”

  I’m used to the club girls immediately doing exactly what I say. She doesn’t. I grin, again. She’s going to find out what happens to disobedient little girls. First, though, I need to take the edge off. Time for fun later.

  Challenge accepted.

  I move fast, throwing myself on the bed, my weight making her bounce, then I take first one hand then the other, imprisoning both in one of mine and forcing them up and over her head. Working in tandem, one of my knees comes between hers, forcing her legs to part. A quick glance down shows me she’s shaved, waxed… fuck, I don’t care, except that I’m pleased she’s bare. One of my pet peeves is getting pubes in my mouth.

  She tries to move, but I’ve got her pinned in place.

  “Didn’t think this through, did you, little girl?” I rasp against her ear. “You wanted a biker to fuck you, and that’s exactly what you’re going to get.”

  There’s a sharp intake of breath and her skin flushes more as I feast my eyes on her tits. They’re small, but perky, and the areolas are a lovely shade of light brown. Her nipples harden with just my gaze on them. Yeah, there can be no doubt she’s already aroused.

  Unable to resist any longer, I lower my head and suck one of those peaks right into my mouth and using my teeth, nip it gently. Her back arches as she gasps. Yup, she’s sensitive alright, and for the second time I wish I was back in my own room, so I could decorate those nipples with clamps decked out in blue jewels to match her stunning hair.

  I pinch the other nipple that I’ve neglected between the first finger and thumb of my free hand. Again, she makes a sound and squirms, but the effect is to grind her pelvis against my cock. I’m pushing her, pleased she’s making no complaint, that little moan can only be interpreted as one of encouragement.

  After spending a couple of minutes torturing her nipples, I glance at her face. Her head is thrown back, her eyes are closed, and her lips are firmly pressed together as she concentrates on taking all the pleasure I’m so clearly giving her.

  “Don’t move your arms,” I instruct.

  Removing the hand I’ve used as a makeshift restraint, I pause a second to see if she obeys. I’m not even sure she’s aware that I’ve released her as I nibble my way down her stomach and to that nirvana between her legs.

  But my first lick of her moisture from slit to clit has her bowing up from the bed, and her hands fluttering in the air.

  “Babe,” I warn, raising my head, “that’s the third.”

  Her mouth forms an O and her arms go back to where I want them.

  Chapter Two

  Beth

  I’d asked for this. I’d asked for meaningless sex with a biker just to see what it was like. Had I not had a few drinks to give me Dutch courage, I’d never have had the nerve to go after him so blatantly, but I had. Not enough to be drunk and not know what I was doing, but sufficient for me to suppress the shy introvert inside, and for once, actually ask for what I wanted.

  I’d been eyeing him up all day. The first thing I’d noticed was how tall he was. His handsome face was the second. Next, it was just the way that he was. I’d heard him talk and joke with his friends, seen him firmly move one of the bikers out of the way when a waiter was passing with drinks. When Violet got the clasp of her necklace caught in her hair, it was he who saw what was wrong and quickly had it sorted. His behaviour seemed to show he was a take charge dominant man, just the sort of man I dreamed of, but never expected to meet. I wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity.

  I hadn’t needed the words to know this was just once, but something told me that it would be worth it. As long as I kept telling myself I didn’t need a repeat, the experience would be something to remember.

  So far this encounter with the tattoo-less biker so inappropriately called Ink is already nothing like any sex I’ve ever had before. My prior experiences have involved flirting, the polite telegraphing that both parties are interested, then a kiss which becomes increasingly sensual, with hands gradually coming into play, mutually commencing and taking liberties with a hesitant exploration of each other’s bodies.

  Then, if it progresses and moves into the bedroom, a polite and slow removal of clothes, with glances and sighs of appreciation as the usually hidden areas of skin are exposed.

  To be told to undress, and then not even be able to offer a tantalising striptease—he’d turned his back—had put me on edge.

  His commands continue. Do this, do that. So far out of my comfort zone, I’m surprised to discover I’m enjoying it.

  Ink’s by far the tallest man I’ve ever been with, every other partner has been shorter. While I’ve had a couple of relationships that have worked for a while, most times my height has been, or has quickly become a factor. I’ve even been at the mercy of men who simply wanted to parade me around like a trophy they’ve won, or then there are those who expected me to be the dominant partner and were disappointed to find I was no dominatrix.

  I view relationships like Mel has with Pyro as being far out of my reach. In my experience, men just aren’t protective of me, rather seeing me in the role of protector.

  Ink, well, he’s a million miles away from any other man I’ve ever had in my bed.

  If I were asked, I’d say my preference is to be an equal player, to give tit for tat. When I’m touched, to touch back. Ink’s not giving me a chance to do that. He’s keeping me off kilter, but any complaint dies on my lips as I discover I don’t hate what he’s doing.

  He isn’t polite, he’s taking what he wants, and I’m fast discovering that’s exactly how I want it too.

  He’d wasted no time homing in on my nipples. Instead of gradually increasing the pressure to what I enjoy, exploring to find out what I might like, he applied it immediately. My breasts have always been sensitive, they might be small, but someone playing with them always turns me on. Ink’s roughness was just what I needed. It just wasn’t what I’d expected.

  He expects me to take what he gives without being an active participant myself, it’s something I’d never have said I’d enjoy. But, oh boy, when he starts licking me there, his pressure is just right, and he seems to know where everything is and exactly how to find it. Jeez. He’s found my G-spot now, when other men I’d been with would have been unable to find it with Siri’s help and a map.

  His mouth is on my clit, his fingers inside me. With my tits still throbbing from the pinches he’d administered, I’m not going to last long.

  How many women must he have pleasured to know exactly what to do?

  A lot. But I knew what I was getting in to when I asked for sex with a biker. My friend Mel doesn’t come into work every day with a huge satisfied smile on her face for no reason. Now, I
suspect I’m finding out why.

  My brain switches off as my muscles start clenching, little ripples across my stomach until oh, yeah, there. I scream. I can’t help it.

  As I try to get my breath back, I feel cooler air on my skin as he lifts his body away. Cracking open my eyes, I watch as he takes the couple of steps he requires to get to his pants and delves into a pocket. Then he comes back carrying a handful of condoms, they flutter down on to the bed. I try to count them. Six? Seven? Really?

  He sees my eyes widen and grins. “Promised you wouldn’t be able to walk.”

  Disobeying him, I lower my hand and wave toward the packs on the bed. “Prove it.”

  “That’s four. Five unless you put your hand back.”

  My brow furrows as I’ve no idea what he’s talking about, but as he’s ceased all movement and is just waiting, I do what he says, and once again have my hands clasped behind my head. Then I watch entranced as he tugs at his dick before swiftly opening the first packet, and covering himself with latex.

  Jeez. This man can move fast. Next thing I know, he’s between my thighs, my ass slightly raised and my legs up over his shoulders. Then… Oh, he’s pushing in.

  I was teasing him about his size. He’s by far the biggest man I’ve been with, a cock in proportion to his even taller-than-me height and muscular body. It’s thick and long and there’s a burn as he pushes inside, even though he’d prepared me, and I am dripping wet.

  I gasp, he stills, then pushes again.

  “Relax,” he instructs, then leans forward so I feel the chuckling vibration of his voice. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

  I bite back a scoff. Easy for him to say.

  But despite his comment, he’s as gentle as a man his size can be and takes his time slowly working himself in. When I reopen my eyes, I see him gazing at me intently and know he’s keeping track of all my expressions.

  At last he’s fully seated inside me, and he pauses, giving me a moment to adjust.

  I can’t resist. “Are you in?”

  He barks a startled laugh. “Oh, pretty Beth, that’s six.”

  Why does he keep spitting numbers at me?

  Then I couldn’t give a damn. My brain turns to mush as he starts moving.

  Christ, this man knows what to do. That swivel of his hips makes his cock touch all the right places. Then he does it again. And again. Oh God, am I going to survive this?

  Like many tall girls I was a late bloomer. Even my first self-administered orgasm was so late in putting in an appearance, I’d begun to fear I was asexual. But a study had reassured me my late development was normal due to the excessive hormones responsible for my height. In addition, I’ve only been able to come from oral fairly recently. Until tonight, I’d given up on the hope I might be capable of coming from internal stimulation alone, but as my body tenses and reacts to his, I start to wonder if Ink might prove me wrong.

  I’ve never felt anything like this in my life. He’s not rough but forceful, hammering in until the bed’s bouncing against the wall and my last conscious thought is that anyone in the next room must hear the knocking and will be left in no doubt as to what we’re doing in here. But I don’t give a damn as my muscles tighten in the telltale signs that I’m coming. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. My pussy clamps on his cock and my hands move again, this time to shove my fist in my mouth to muffle my scream.

  “Seven,” he announces. “Want to hear you, babe.”

  “Did you…?”

  After giving me just a few seconds to recover, he resumes thrusting. “No.”

  “God!” I cry out a minute later, when he brings me to the peak and I go over again.

  I have three orgasms before he finally lets himself go. I feel him swell, feel his body leaning on mine, feel him press in, pull out slightly, then repeats his action twice more. The third time he holds himself in groaning, “Fuck, babe, fuck.”

  As I slowly recover my senses, I open my eyes to see him, his lungs heaving and his head bowed.

  Hmm. He said he had stamina. I’m just about to make a snide comment, when he suddenly raises his head, looks at me and grins widely. “Not bad, little girl. Not bad at all.”

  Will he be giving me marks out of ten next? Or was that his weird number counting? If I’ve only earned a seven, is that disappointing or good?

  He pulls out, and holding the condom securely, disappears into the bathroom. Shortly after, I hear a toilet flush and the sound of water running in a sink.

  When he reappears, he looks serious for a second, eyeing the room. Then he breathes out unexpected words.

  “Ah, that will do. Come here, babe.”

  Instead of returning to the bed, he sits in the armchair that the hotel provided.

  My eyes crease as I watch him pat his lap. If he wants to cuddle, why hasn’t he joined me on the comfortable mattress? But yeah, well, I could do with being held for a moment. After how he’s treated our encounter, it’s something I didn’t expect.

  I groan slightly as I pull my overworked body up, and naked, cross the room to him, my lips curving in anticipation of his arms encircling me. But as I turn to place my ass on his lap, he instructs again.

  “Nah, babe. Lie over my legs.”

  What? “What?” I ask out loud.

  He pats his lap.

  I don’t move.

  “Christ, woman, that’s eight. Do as you’re fuckin’ told.”

  Proving once again how fast he can move, he strikes like a snake, standing and manhandling me until he’s sitting back down and I’m lying with my stomach on his thighs, my legs trapped by one of his strong muscled calves, and his hand pushing hard on my back to keep me down. “You’re going to have to learn to do as I say,” he murmurs.

  “Ow!” The sharp slap to my ass startles the cry out of me, as much from the shock as the pain. He hit me. Oh no, I’m not putting up with that. But as I struggle, I feel his palm rubbing my buttock until the sting becomes a warm flush that heats my skin, and I’ll be damned if my clit doesn’t tingle.

  The heat of his hand disappears, and another hard smack comes on my opposite flank.

  Jeez. That hurt. That…

  He rubs again, and this time I can feel myself growing wet.

  “You smell good,” he says softly in an amused voice. “Your sex. Sweet.”

  I’ve tensed slightly, in case there is more to come. “Relax, it will hurt more if you tighten your muscles.”

  “It won’t hurt at all if you stop.” I wriggle, but he’s got me locked down.

  “Nah.” He chuckles. “You’ve more to come. One, you insulted my cock. Two, you were too slow to do what I said. Three, you disobeyed me when you lowered your arms. You’re a disobedient little thing, aren’t you?” He carries on listing the infractions I’d supposedly committed, punctuating each one with a sharp slap to my ass, until he gets to the final numbers. “Seven, you critiqued my performance, and eight, you refused to lie on my lap.”

  My skin burns and I’m sure my backside is bright red, but instead of being furious and angry, I feel languid, and slightly disappointed he’s stopped. My clit throbs and I swear I’m as aroused as I’ve ever been. Me, who always wondered why some women, and men come to that, like being spanked so much. One thing’s for certain, Ink’s making me re-evaluate a lot of my assumptions about myself tonight.

  His hands gently stroke my back and my ass. “You’re a lovely shade of pink, little girl. You mark well. I can even see my handprint.”

  Is it so wrong that there’s something about him having marked me that I like? Mentally, I shake myself. You wanted the biker loving experience, this is what you got. Idly I wonder if Pyro spanks Mel, and whether she likes it.

  “I think you enjoyed that,” he chuckles.

  “How do you come to that conclusion?” I summon the strength to respond.

  “Because you’re making no effort to move.”

  “I happen to like staring at the floor,” I indignantly respond.

  Now
he’s outright laughing. “You enjoyed it so much, babe, think you ought to thank me.” His arms gently straighten me. “Now get on your knees and show me how grateful you are.”

  My eyes widen. As if making sure I’m left in no doubt of what he wants, he strokes his hard again cock, and stares at my mouth.

  He wants me to suck him.

  One of his eyebrows is raised in challenge. He thinks I’m going to refuse. I might have, it’s not exactly something that I enjoy, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to give the satisfaction of proving him right that I can’t handle the needs of a biker.

  As sexily as I can, I slide down to my knees, relieved that the floor is carpet and not tile, place my hands on his thighs and pull myself in between his parted legs. His cock is clean, he must have washed himself after removing the condom, but as it bobs in front of my eyes, a drop of pre-cum leaks from the tip.

  First, I lick my lips, then stretch out my tongue and lick that tempting drop off. It tastes salty, and not too unpleasant.

  He growls, as I proceed to circle my tongue around the head of his dick. Oh, the power. Relishing that the tables are turned, I take him inside my mouth, my hands circling the length I can’t take in. He might have issued the demand, but it’s me who’s now in control as I proceed to try to drive him out of his mind, spurred on by the sounds he’s making.

  Can I swallow? The thought makes me gag, and I pull away for a second but refuse to give up. He issued a challenge to me when he intimated he’d be too much for me to handle. It’s not like me to back down from a dare. My competitive side coming out, I’m determined to prove him wrong.

  I feel his dick thickening and prepare myself, but he pulls me away with a roar.

  “On the bed. Hands and knees.”

  This time I’m quick to oblige, my willingness partly due to relief.

  A tearing sound of foil ripping then unbelievably fast, I feel his cock pressing into me. I’m already stretched and wet, so this time my body welcomes him home with none of the discomfort of before.

 

‹ Prev