Wet (Diamondback MC 4)

“Good, you can wear one every day of the week you aren’t workin’ without these fuckin’ excuses for panties.” My fingers slide between the globes of her ass, feeling the fabric of her thong, traveling until I meet wetness.

“Hmmm, you’d like that, huh?” Her tongue traces my bottom lip while her hands are between us, working the button on my pants, the rasp of a zipper and our heavy panting along with the muted tones of music playing throughout the clubhouse the only noises surrounding us.

“Damn straight. Having unlimited access to this sweet cunt, you better believe it.” My thumb sinks inside her pussy by the time her fist wraps around my cock, jeans falling down around my thighs, and I’m about to fuck her raw.

“Now, don’t hold back. It’s been days since you’ve been inside me.” Damn, she’s not wrong. Not being inside her is like leaving a man in the desert dying of thirst. One sip is never enough. Monroe’s hands move to my shoulders, beneath my cut, gripping the cotton, and pressing into my skin, the fabric doing little to calm down the way she’s clenching my body, making me hiss out a breath, liking the way that feels.

“Then hold on, because this isn’t going to be slow.” I adjust us so that my hands are on her hips, my thighs holding hers open, and I slide her thong to the side, with Monroe’s hand fisted around my cock.

“Get my cock wet, trouble. Show me what I do to you.” Our eyes lock on what’s happening between us, amplifying our need for one another.

“Oh God, it feels so good.” The second her hand is out of the way, I grip her tight, thrusting up as she slams down on my length, pussy clenching already.

“Christ, take your shirt off,” I demand, hating that I’m about to lose her hands on my body, but having those sweet tits of Monroe’s in my mouth, it’s the sweetest torture. She barely gets it out of my way. Fuck, she may still be wrestling with her tank top, I wouldn’t fuckin’ know. The second her tits came into view, my lips, tongue, and mouth went from one nipple to the other, the thrusting of my hips not stopping. Monroe’s writhing movements, sweet little noises, and the way I can feel every bare inch of her, it’s enough to have me ready to lose control.

“Hunter, I’m coming!”

“Can fuckin’ feel that. Take me with you,” I grunt. Leaving her tits, my mouth moves to hers, my tongue sweeping inside, chasing hers with mine, until we’re both coming together. Shit, the way she tightened around my cock, I never stood a chance.

“I think my legs are dead,” Monroe croons. I pull out of her slowly, my hands going to her hips. I drop to my knees before her. “What are you doing, Hunter?”

“Lookin’ at something,” I hum, pulling her skirt up and yanking her thong down to see what I want my eyes on.

“Oh Jesus, that’s hot.” Monroe only confirms what I already know. I watch as my cum slides out of her cunt.

“Fuck yeah, it is, and it’s mine, for-fuckin’-ever.” My fingers skim through my cum, pushing it back inside her pussy, right where it belongs.

Eighteen

Monroe

A purr leaves my throat as I lift my arms over my head. I’m sore from the top of my head down to the bottom of my feet. It’s not the hurting type of pain; it’s the you-can’t-keep-your-hands-off-one-another-all-night-long type. Which is why when I look at my phone that Hunter put on the nightstand, I see that it’s well past noon and he’s nowhere in sight.

Since he’s not in his room, I decide to take a hot shower to soothe my aches and pains. Though, it would be nice if he were here to help me. Even if I secretly just want him near me. After Hunter took me against the door, the second time, it was me riding him, teasing both of us soft and slow. He allowed that for all of a few minutes until I was moved to my back and Hunter used his own form of slow torture. That orgasm, though, I swore I saw stars. Heck, maybe I passed out.

I climb out of bed not wearing a stitch of clothing. There’s no sense in wearing something to bed that’s just going to be ripped off, and I like my clothes, not in tatters. It doesn’t take long to start the shower, step in, wash my body, forgoing my hair because that’s a whole other process. Thankfully, it’s not too knotted up from Hunter’s hands. I finish up my shower, then brush my teeth, walk back into the room, grab a pair of shorts, a Diamondback MC shirt I nabbed from Hunter months ago, bra and panties. Sure, I’m small chested, but going without a bra when Hunter isn’t around isn’t something I want or usually do.