by A. J. Downey
He might as well have hung the moon for me, with how much I loved him, how much my body sang his praises as he teased me with the very tip of his tongue. I writhed as much as our position would let me while keeping me secure, and with a cry that bordered on victorious, I came, nipples tightening, sparks flying along every nerve ending, the dam that’d been holding me back breaking and a flood of warmth and the golden glow of orgasm sweeping through me, pouring out from my middle in wave after wave until I felt all used up. I leaned against the wall panting, still somehow unfulfilled, even after all of that, aching to have him inside of me.
“God, please tell me you’re ready to go,” I gasped. “I need you inside me.”
“Let me grab a condom,” he said, helping me shakily off his shoulders and to my feet, not letting go until he was sure my legs could hold me.
“No, now,” I gasped, trembling.
“What if you get pregnant?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I don’t care,” I said, surprised to find that I meant it. “I mean, would it be so bad?”
“You want kids, now? With me?” he asked, and there was a weight behind his words, a hopeful anticipation.
“I mean, if it happens – but yes, I want children at some point, with you…”
“Fucking bend over,” he ordered, and turned me around, shoving me forward at the hips, pressing my hands flat against the shower wall and rising like a leviathan behind me. He was as hard as I’d ever seen him, his cock fully engorged, bobbing thickly between his legs. I only caught a glimpse of it, of him, that way but a glimpse was enough. The memory seared into my mind even as my pussy throbbed like it was giving a glad little cry, knowing that it would soon be filled.
He pressed into me and groaned, shoving into my body, the hot, slick folds of my twat welcoming him, gripping him, my body pulling him deeper into me even as I thrust my hips back to meet him. My fingertips mottled white against the faux-marble shower wall in front of me as I braced my trembling arms, so many endorphins rushing through my blood I didn’t even think about how sore I might be later from this. Right now, my back and shoulders were fine, as he ran himself in and out of my pussy, adjusting his hips, looking for that perfect angle that would make me yowl like a cat in heat.
He found it, of course, and I definitely wailed, and he took that as an invitation to really fuck me, which I loved. We didn’t stop, we didn’t even slow down, even when someone knocked on the door, a masculine voice cursing and boot treads retreating as Stoker expertly worked his way in and out of my body.
The sensations were intense, made even more intense, insanely intense, when he gripped my shoulders and plowed forward into me, bottoming out against my cervix in a delicious shock of pleasure wrought into a work of art turned pain, an exquisite feeling that I generally had to be in the mood for and I was right there, in that perfect headspace, ready for him to dish out whatever he wanted and to accept it as holy writ. My body was practically levitating, the sex so good it was almost an out-of-body experience as he fought and won to bring me to orgasm again.
He pulled me into a standing position as I came, still deep inside of me, holding me back against his body, my feet not touching the slick tub floor, holding me steady, holding me tight, and I loved that, giving myself over purely to the bliss flickering through my veins and along my limbs as I trembled like a newborn deer calf.
He slipped out of me, reluctantly, and he was still hard. Setting me down gently, he turned me, and I looked up at him, still a bit dazed, and asked, “Did you come?”
“No,” he shook his head with a shy grin. “Held off.”
“Can’t have that,” I murmured and slipped to my knees to finish him with my mouth, rinsing him with my hand and the shower spray, I could still faintly taste myself and that was okay. I didn’t care.
All I cared about was pleasuring him as he had pleasured me, until the end of time.
Taking care of each other, from now until we grew old; I wanted that so much, needed it like a plant needed the sun, good soil, and enough water to thrive. That’s what I wanted us to do. I wanted us to both be healthy, to both thrive, so that when we did bring children into this world, we could give them a better life than we had growing up.
“Oh, Orchid, don’t stop,” he breathed, and I looked up at him, as he leaned one shoulder into the shower wall and gazed down the length of his chiseled body at me. God, he was beautiful; it was another sight forever burned into my brain.
God, I loved him. I would love him until the end of time, no matter what, if he would let me.
Epilogue
Stoker…
“You ready for this?” Pyro asked, flicking his cigarette out into the street off the curb.
“Oh, I’ve been ready,” I declared.
“Sweet,” Atlas grunted.
“Let’s fuckin’ do it!” Lightning grinned a little too enthusiastically, like he pretty much did every time he was about to strike.
“Wait until he gets a little further out, into the parking lot. No cameras and it’s dark as fuck, should give us plenty of cover.”
I nodded, and we waited for him to stumble around that way. As luck would have it, he stopped to relieve himself against the cinderblock wall of the watering hole he’d just stumbled out of.
We crept around the back of his shiny new good ‘ol boy pickup and flanked him to either side.
Atlas asked him, “You uh, weren’t planning on driving that shiny new rig of yours drunk, now, were ya?”
“What’s it t’ you, motherfucker?” the guy demanded.
“Might hurt another little girl,” Lightning said at my side, and the guy turned and he did crash, right into my fucking fist.
He went down, but only for a half second before he bounded back up like a rubber fuckin’ ball. Pyro got him though, his arms looped into a full nelson, fingers laced behind the guy’s sweaty neck. Alcohol fumes were coming off of him so bad, I thought my next punch into the dude’s gut might spark off his belt buckle or something and catch us all on fire.
I did the most of the wailing on him, whooped his ass but good. He was on his hands and knees, coughing and retching, and I got down near him.
“You ever fuck with anyone else, the next time? We’ll kill you, you get me?” I demanded, my breath heaving from the workout I’d put in.
He laughed and wheezed saying, “I know you. I’ma run every last one of you fuckers off the road.” He spat, “Fuck you! You fucking fucks.”
“Brave man,” Atlas said dispassionately.
“Let’s beat it out of him,” Lightning suggested, and we stomped his ass into the fucking blacktop.
He wasn’t laughing anymore.
“I think he needs a fucking reminder every time he looks in the mirror that he needs to watch his fuckin’ mouth,” I said, and I knew just what kind of reminder to provide. I exchanged looks with Pyro and he gave a curt nod. He knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Get him up,” Pyro ordered. Atlas took one side, Lightning the other, and they dragged him over to the bumper of his shiny new rig. Pyro grabbed him by his lolling head and positioned his mouth against the front bumper for me.
“Hit it,” he said, and I brought my boot crashing down on the back of the motherfucker’s skull, his teeth and jaw giving a satisfying, juicy crunch against the chrome. The boys dropped him and I wiped my sweating palms against my jeans. None of us were wearing colors. Hell, none of us had even ridden. We’d jacked some stripper’s car from a joint not far from here and ridden in a cage.
We piled back in it, drove back to the strip club where the bikes were parked, wiped down the interior of the car, and left a wad of cash in the center console for the damages. She’d be alright with a story like that for the pigs. They were used to that shit.
We went back inside with the rest of the crew, cleaned up in the john and I dropped into a seat between the captain and Gator. The captain handed over my colors.
“Smooth?” he asked.
&nb
sp; “Slicker ‘n owl shit,” I confirmed, and that was that.
A lap dance or two, to get enough of a bitch’s stink-water and body glitter on my shit and we rode out as one big pack later that night after we had our fill of titties and beer. As far as the ol’ ladies knew, we were just out being a bunch of guys, the only one with us was Cutter’s woman, Hope, because she was just as much one of us, but we all knew she would keep her pretty mouth shut.
I wasn’t really down for that last part. The lap dances. The only woman I wanted in my lap was my little orchid. I just wanted home, a shower, and to slip inside her. I guess you could call that the biker’s method of slipping into something more comfortable.
She was curled in her reading chair when I came home, the picture of smart girl, her legs tucked under her like a cat as her eyes skimmed the page of her book open in her lap, an oasis of light in the otherwise-dark room, sitting under a little golden pool of lamplight from her little side table.
She was a sight for sore eyes.
I watched her for several moments until she said, without looking up, a small smile on her lips, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“No,” I told her, my voice husky with desire.
She looked up, her smile faltering as her dark gaze fell upon my face.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“I had a good time,” I answered.
She frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“Got a few lap dances from some pretty girls, got into a decent brawl with another patron,” I held up my scraped fist, the story already pre-established with the rest of the crew. “Drank my fill of beer and got rowdy as hell. Good for the soul, right?” I asked.
“But...?” She cocked her head expectantly.
“All I really wanted to be doing was you,” I said with a smirk. “I just wanted to be here, with you in our bed, making love to you all night.”
“Night’s not over yet,” she said softly.
“No,” I agreed. “It’s not.”
“So why don’t you go take a shower, get cleaned up, and you might just find me in bed.”
“Naked,” I demanded.
“Naked,” she threw in for my benefit, laughing. “Waiting for you.”
“Couldn’t ask for a better ending to my night,” I said softly.
She and I stared across the living room at one another, the desire rising from the floor and shimmering almost palpable between us.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked, softly.
“Could ask you the same thing.”
“I’m waiting for you to get in the shower,” she said, closing her book.
“I’m waiting for you to get in bed.”
She smiled and set her book aside. “One of us has to go first.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, and put one foot in front of the other up the hallway, despite not being able to take my eyes off of her.
She smiled and shook her head, planting her hands firmly on the edge of her seat and levering herself up out of her chair.
I carried the sight of her all through the shower, which I made quick work of. When I stepped out, the house was silent and dark. Towel slung low on my hips, I went to our room, the door cracked, and Serenity nude in our bed, the moonlight spilling through the bedroom window caressing her naked back, and the sight was so beautiful. I could swear she was a siren from the sea, not a woman when she looked like that.
I let the towel drop and she opened her eyes.
“Don’t move, I want to look at you, like this a minute,” I said, stroking myself. She watched my hand move over my flesh, a hungry heat in her gaze and I smiled and went to her, nudging her legs apart with my knee between them as I got up onto the bed, sliding myself along the crack of her ass, teasing her, listening to her soft little pants of want, her hips rising off the bed in offering.
I found her opening with the head of my cock and paused, murmuring against her ear, covered by the silk of her hair, “I love you, babe. It’s good to be home,” before sliding into her.
She sucked in a sharp breath in response and I chuckled, working my way carefully in and out of her, intent on delivering on my promise.
I’d be making love to her until sunrise. I’d be making love to her, and only her, for the rest of our lives.
The End
Also by A.J. Downey
The Sacred Hearts MC
1. Shattered & Scarred
2. Broken & Burned
3. Cracked & Crushed
3.5 Masked & Miserable (a novella)
4. Tattered & Torn
5. Fractured & Formidable
6. Damaged & Dangerous
The Virtues
1. Cutter’s Hope
2. Marlin’s Faith
3. Charity for Nothing
The Sacred Brotherhood
1. Brother to Brother
2. Her Brother’s Keeper
3. Brother In Arms
4. Between Brothers
5. A Brother’s Secret
6. A Brother At My Back
7. A Brother’s Salvation
Indigo Knights
1. Her Thin Blue Lifeline
2. His Cold Blue Command
3. A Low Blue Flame
4. His Wild Blue Rose
5. Her Pained Blue Silence
6. A Cold Blue Call
7. Her Reluctant Blue Cavalier
Paranormal Romance (with Ryan Kells)
1. I Am The Alpha
2. Omega’s Run
3. Hunter’s End
About the Author
A.J. Downey specializes in writing real and relatable contemporary romance stories. She’s from Seattle, WA and loves the Pacific Northwest. She finds inspiration from her surroundings, through the people she meets, and likely as a byproduct of way too much caffeine. An avid reader all of her life, it’s now her turn to try and give back a little, entertaining as she has been entertained.
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