Razor's Edge (Underworld Kings)

Just when I felt like I might lose my sanity from his persistent touch, he penetrated me with his tongue until I came completely undone. My hips bucked up from the sheets, but Cal held me down with one hand, with the other he pinched my over-sensitized nipples. My eyes went wide with what the sensation did to me. I fell into a tailspin of ecstasy that seemed to have no end.

Right when the waves started to roll from my center reaching outward, Cal took my clit softly with his tongue, massaging it in torturous, delectable circles. My body shook, my back arched and stilled, my nipples puckered, until one final stroke broke the spell and I fell apart. I shamelessly quaked into his mouth as the orgasm pulsated through me, stilling only when I felt embarrassed from the amount of warm fluids leaking from me.

When the earth-shaking waves finally abated, Cal flopped on the pillows beside me and pulled my shell-shocked body into his naked chest.

“Ellison, you are incredible,” he said. He kissed the top of my head and caressed my hair. “And so fucking sexy,” he said. Calvin pulled my mouth to his and our tongues reunited. He kissed me until I was grinding again, riding his thigh with the lubrication still between mine. He ducked his head down to suck my nipples and another orgasm rose and ripped through my placid mood. My body shook again while I came on his leg, my thighs squeezing his, and Calvin smiled at me devilishly.

“You’re a fucking firecracker, baby.” He seemed proud of my ability to climax again. Setting his gorgeous full lips at the base of my neck, he sucked hard and fierce, his hands restraining my shoulders.

“Calvin, no. My parents will see,” I protested meekly. My brain had shut down with the overdose of pleasure.

He left a blood-purple mark, a warning, marking his territory, announcing his victory.

Two years later…

Chapter 24

CALVIN

“Did you just change your shirt three times?” Fox asked as he looked at himself in the mirror and flexed. Over the last two years, Fox had been working out and had grown into a beast. When he walked down the street, people gave him a wide berth. And in the last year, he’d finally moved from a prospect to a full-fledged member. He was in deep, had information on all the criminal activity, Fox was my father’s right-hand man. A position I would never want to be in.

“It’s her eighteenth birthday. I want to look good. You got a problem with that?”

“You know you actually need to get pussy to be pussy whipped. Have you even banged her yet though? How long you been dating? Twenty-five years?”

I didn’t care what he thought. Elli was the best thing to ever happen to me. If she needed to wait, then we would. We did other things and I was more than okay with that. The two of us were still intimate, we could get each other off without penetration. I wanted it to be perfect when we had sex, I didn’t want to rush her. Not that I wasn’t going crazy not being able to experience her that way. I was, but I wasn’t going to make her sacrifice for my impatience or betray her parents’ trust. Ellison was well worth the wait, and there was something to be said for the benefits of holding off. We were both halfway out of our minds with desire for the other, but there was tension in the postponement that fed into our sexual chemistry. Even just kissing Ellison was erotic.

That said, like the red-blooded male I was, I dreamed of taking her virginity, going all the way with her and watching her come for me. We were explosive already, loved with a passion more consuming than any other couple I’d seen. Adding sex to the mix would be the final ingredient.

Fox scoffed at my attention to fixing my hair, shook his head on the way out of my room. He liked to give me shit, but no matter what the beast said, he had my back one hundred percent of the time.

I guess the idea of true love was foreign to all the men in my world, my brother included. Living the MC life meant an endless supply of women throwing themselves at your feet. My father, for example, only had to snap his fingers and women came running. He treated all of them like complete garbage. My mother, on the other hand, was like royalty compared to how he treated the club whores. He at least tried not to hit my mother, a luxury that wasn’t afforded to the rest of the women he slept with. I saw no redeeming qualities in the man who gave me life, had no idea why my mother and my brother stuck by him. For what? Money? I didn’t want blood on my hands, I’d work, pay my own way, be a self-made man. I didn’t want club drama to mar my life more than it already had.