She took orders like a good girl, even balls deep in her climax. My cock pressed against her womb and ballooned when her ass hit my pubic bone. I fucking lost it.
My nut came seething and furious, the kinda release that splinters your brain in half. It was like being lit on fire. Her screams disappeared into a breathless gasp as I shook my dick inside her, feeling the first hot come load blowing into the condom.
I didn't fucking stop. I kept rocking inside her, making shallow spikes deep in her *. Marking her, fucking her, loving her every way I could 'til my body gave out.
My heart beat like a fiend against my ribs. Jet after jet of flaming hot sperm shot up my shaft and pulsed heat through my muscles. I felt like I'd grown taller, swelled out, full of total love and lust like a fucking giant.
Shit. That's when it reached up and punched me in the fucking face.
If the club or the cartel didn't kill me, this girl would. She'd drive me absolutely fucking loco whether I had her in my arms or my dick buried inside her. Smack didn't have shit on the addiction she ignited in my blood.
I rolled, tugging her in my arms, pulling her to my chest. The big bear on my chest was like a landing pad for her face.
Something natural. Something good. Something worth fighting for no matter how miserable the odds were stacked against us.
“Rest up, babe. Don't go to sleep on me. We're not done here by a long shot.” I gave her a playful smack on the ass and she jerked alert.
The annoyed look on her face melted in a smile. “You're the only man who's ever gotten away with that, you know.”
I winked. “Fuck, I'd better be, babe. If anybody else has had his hands on this sweet ass, you point me his way and I'll knock his fucking teeth out. You know what this is?”
I reached for both cheeks and squeezed. She whimpered in my hands, then opened her eyes, snuggling into me, staring at the ink on my chest.
“It's my butt,” she said, laughing like an angel.
“And it's all fucking mine.” Why did that word always sound like a saw firing up in my throat when I said it?
Filled me with the same kinda primal fury I felt looking at Fang or Serial or any of the other assholes who'd fucked my club beyond repair. I'd never let anything take this body away from me. Never.
“Why do they call you Brass, anyway? Do bikers still have normal names behind all the crazy egos?” She asked.
I grinned. “It happened when I was a prospect. Everybody's got a different rite when they get in with the club. Some guys just make you do chores and shit – you know, serve them beers, polish their shoes, toss bottles and condoms after the parties. Others are downright fucks who like to see how much pain you can take.”
She shook her head sadly. “Sounds like a frat house.”
“Yeah, except this is a lot more serious.” Or that's what it's supposed to be, I thought, my heart darkening when I imagined all the ways our brotherhood went off the rails. “Anyway, there was this one mean fuck in Coeur d'Alene who always punched the prospects in the nuts. Hard as he fucking could, just short of leaving 'em sterile. I knew what was coming that night at the party, when all the boys were drunk and ready to fuck around messing with their new guys. There was an old brass doorknob coming loose in the bathroom. I stuffed it down my pants before it was my turn to serve that fuck a drink. Asshole broke his fucking hand when he nailed me in the balls. I got away a little winded. Nothing worse.”
She blinked, then laughed and shook her head. “That's crazy. What stopped him from killing you after that?”
“Prez took a vote to patch me in right on the spot. Said it was the hardest he'd laughed in years. Fuck, I'd give anything if Ox was controlling Redding instead of Fang. He was fucked up in his own way, but fair. Lot like Blackjack.”
“So, you're kinda the joker boy, then?” She dragged her fingernails along my chest. My skin sizzled, hair standing on end, crying to fuck her the second I was hard. “You never said what your real name is.”
“It's Jordan, babe. Jordan Reagan. Don't wear it out. Best time for me to hear it's when your *'s exploding on my dick.”
“Jordan,” she whispered. “It's good. Strong. About what I expected.”
“Good. I'd have laughed in your face if you expected me to be called Manny or some shit like that.”
“I don't care what they call you. I know what I want, Brass, and it's right here.”
Fuck yes, she did.
Missy leaned down, flicking her tongue along my lips. A couple more flicks in quick succession teased me stupid.
Little devil. She knew how to work my ass as well as I knew how to work hers, and I loved it. On the fourth lick, I reached up and fisted her hair, holding her tight to my lips.