“I’m not patient,” I said. “I take what I want.”
“Listen to me, Clutch.” She held her hands up, and I saw something shift inside her, some subtle thing that made all the difference. “We can’t.”
“Why? Give me a good reason. I know you want this.”
“I’m going to marry him. I’m going to marry Jetter.”
I stopped in my tracks, staring at her. She looked back defiantly, but I could see it there in her eyes. She wasn’t fucking lying.
She was really going to marry the scumbag.
“Okay,” I said and stepped back. “Tonight is about what you want.”
“Clutch,” she said.
“I’m crashing on your couch again,” I said, “until Larkin tells me otherwise.”
“Fine.” She looked away from me.
I walked over and sat down, putting the television on. I could feel her lingering back toward the door for a second before disappearing into her room.
“Fuck,” I said softly to myself.
She was really going through with it. I never imagined for a second that she’d actually do it.
She was really going to marry that traitor fuck, all for the good of the club.
11
Janine
I woke up, my heart racing.
I’d just been dreaming. In the dream, I saw Clutch take me the way I wanted him to. Instead of anything standing in the way, instead of the marriage looming over my head, the club, our complicated loyalties, our past, there was just me and him.
Biting my lip, I slipped my hand down my panties under the covers. Without thinking, I began to slowly touch my soaked clit.
I thought about Clutch kissing me again, his mouth hard against mine, his body big and strong. He’d press my body against the door and strip off my clothes a little at a time, all the while kissing my neck, my mouth.
He’d whisper in my ear. He’d tell me what he wanted from me, how he wanted me to suck his cock, how he loved to make me beg. I’d be soaking wet when he finally put his hand in my panties. He’d grin at me, that delicious smile, and say he knew all along.
And he’d rub my clit with his incredible hands. I’d try to stay quiet, but I wouldn’t be able to, not with Clutch and his filthy mouth working my body. He’d pull off my pants, peeling them from my skin, and toss them aside. I’d be powerless as he spun me around, grabbing my hips, his fingers pressing inside me.
And I’d moan his name, my body pressed against the door, his hands holding my hips, as he pressed his big cock deep inside me. I’d moan loudly as I took him, shocked at his size.
He was a rough, dirty man. He would be gentle with me, and I wouldn’t want him to be. He’d start to fuck me harder, pressing his cock deep between my legs, holding on to my hips and rocking his cock deep inside me.
He’d pull my hair, slap my ass, and make me beg him to keep fucking me. Clutch’s big cock would slam inside my pussy as he ravaged my body.
He was an animal. I knew he’d be incredible, but I couldn’t give in to him. I kept touching myself, faster and faster, my pussy dripping wet.
In my fantasy, Clutch would fuck me rough and deep, getting deeper and harder with each stroke. He’d whisper into my ear about how good my pussy felt, how much he loved savaging my tight body.
And as I’d get close, he’d suddenly stop and pull me back, grabbing me by the hips and practically carrying me along with him. I’d be panting and begging for him to keep fucking me.
He’d sit down on the couch and drag me down on top of him, spreading my legs wide. He’d pull his shirt off and toss it aside, and I’d trace the ink across his chest as he slowly lowered me down onto his thick, hard cock.
I’d throw my head back and groan as I began to slowly ride his length. I’d slide up and down along his hard cock, my pussy dripping wet, my mind crazy and wild with desire for him.
He’d hold my hips and fuck me, pushing himself into me, his delicious lips against my neck. He’d tell me how he loved to watch my hips ride his cock, how he wanted me to ride him faster, harder. I’d keep moving my hips, moving faster and faster as he slapped my ass. I’d grind down on him, his rough hands on my breasts, his lips at my neck, taking him, riding him, making him fuck me.
As I got closer, my hand working my clit, I had to bite down on the comforter to keep from moaning. I kept picturing Clutch’s tattooed body fucking me, making me sweat, working me within an inch of an orgasm and holding me there, making me beg for it.
He was the type of man that made women beg, and then always delivered.
I made myself come then, trying not to moan, biting down on the comforter. My body spasmed as the pleasure washed over me, my mind locked totally on Clutch and only Clutch.
It slowly passed, and I lay there panting.
I’d never gotten myself off with a person in the other room before, let alone imagined that person.