“This pussy’s always so wet for me,” he grits, removing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth, sucking my essence from them before peering at me devilishly. “Sweeter than pie,” he growls, winking at me as he drops his hands to my knees and spreads me out.
“You’re killing me, Parrish,” I pant, lifting one hand from the edge of the vanity to grab my breast, I roll my thumb over my sensitive nipple. I drop my head against the mirror, banging it slightly as I lift my hips and beckon him to claim me.
“Love it when you say my name,” he rasps, fisting his cock and lining it up with my slick heat. He slams into me grabbing my hand from my breast and laces our fingers together, raising our joined hands over my head and against the mirror. He takes hold of my leg with his free hand, pressing it against his hip as he thrusts mercilessly inside me, giving me all the roughness I’ve come to crave from him. My body screams, drenched in sweat from both the steam of the shower and the steam we were creating with our bodies. I slide along the granite as he pushes himself deeper giving me everything he has. Reaching for his shoulder, my nails dig into his skin. He slams our joined hands against the mirror again as he rotates his hips and quickens his pace.
“Jack,” I yell, feeling my body dive over the edge as my orgasm slams into me. Clenching around his cock, every thrust of his hips becomes a struggle as I breathe through the pleasure.
“Love the way you feel, love watching your face when you come all over my cock,” he grunts, working through the vice my pussy has over him.
“Give it to me,” I demand, arching once more before he lets out a slew of curses and grabs his dick, pulling out of me. I brace my hands against the vanity, watching through hooded eyes as he paints my stomach with his release, branding me and the baby inside me Property of Parrish.
All his.
He lets go of his cock, grabs my hips and inches his thumbs across my stomach, the pads of his fingers working his come into my skin, mimicking the way he rubbed the cream across my scars. He takes ownership of my scars and my body. I was branded by the Bulldog and freed from my past with the promise of a future full of sunshine.
“You,” I whisper.
“Me,” he pants, drawing in a deep breath as I reach for him, lifting his head as I take in the few gray strands of hair at his temple. I press my lips to his temple and lean my forehead against his.
“I have to take another shower,” I murmur.
“Better make it a quick one,” he replies, pulling back to kiss me gently. “Don’t want to be late to see that baby inside you.”
I smile, my eyes filling at his words and the sweet way my rugged knight looks at me. He didn’t know it but the darkness that shadowed him was fading and he was living in the light.
He helped me down from the vanity, turned around and started the shower. As I stepped into the stall, he playfully slaps my ass and grins at me.
“Fifteen minutes, Reina, ain’t got time for another round with you,” he teases, tipping his chin toward the shower. “Go on, Sunshine. I’ll be waiting for you.”
I take a quick shower and dress, taking advantage of my jeans that still fit me and pair it with a Satan’s Knight tank top. When I finally make my way downstairs Jack is sitting on the front stoop, twirling the keys to his truck in his hand and about to light a cigarette.
“Jesus, Jack, I thought you were trying to quit,” I scold, reaching down and plucking the cigarette from his lips. I drop it onto the cement, crushing it with my heel before pulling out a pack of gum from my purse. “Chew on this,” I demand. “You know they say it’s an oral thing that you’re so used to having.”
“Reina,” he growls, popping the piece of gum into his mouth. “Leave it be, unless you want to tag along everywhere I go and give me something to fixate on every time I get the itch,” he grounds out, grabbing my hand and leading me to his truck.
I’m not sure that’s a bad idea or that I’d mind.
He shakes his head, mumbling something under his breath as he opens the passenger door for me.
“Get in,” he orders.
“Why aren’t we taking the bike?” I question, pulling my head out of my ass and the thoughts of being Jack’s oral fixation. “I figured we’d still ride until I became too big to lift my leg over the bike,” I add.
“Not taking any chances,” he grumbles, slamming the door closed before opening it again. “Put your seat belt on,” he barks, slamming the door shut again and walking around the front of the car.
I shake my head, laughing quietly to myself. Jack was always ordering me to lock the door, wear a helmet and scolding me about my seat belt. If one didn’t know which side of the tracks his bike’s tires skidded across they might confuse him for a law-abiding citizen.