Not a Role Model (Battle Crows MC 4)

She hissed in a wheezing breath as she said, “Tide… we can’t do that here.”

I ignored her and made my own decision up on the cameras. Next time, we’d let them watch.

Tonight…

“Just be still,” I said as I pulled my pants down just low enough for my cock to spill free of its confines. “And don’t show what I’m doing on your face. They’ll think we’re just dancing like everyone else.”

She stayed perfectly still, and soon my cock was buried deep.

I closed my eyes as the wet, perfect warmth closed around me, shocking my system.

Again with the no-condom thing.

I swear to God, I’d forgotten more times with her than I’d remembered with everyone else before her.

But the way she felt…

I pulled back and shifted my hips, swaying our bodies back and forth to the pounding of the beat coming through the speakers in the main club.

Up here, in the VIP section, it was more intimate. Allowing people to talk while also being able to enjoy the music at a quiet, quaint location.

Keir had done a good job.

I’d have to commend him for his acoustics. Especially since the music was just loud enough that I could talk to my girl, while others couldn’t hear the little breathy moans and whispers coming out of her with each stroke of my cock inside of her.

“God, you make me feel so good,” she whispered breathily. “You make me feel like anything we do together isn’t bad.”

I cupped her face with one hand, my fingers going up the length of her face to curl around her ear, while the palm went around her chin.

I tilted her head so that she could hear me say, “Nothing that we do together will ever be considered bad. Even if, by definition, it’s against the law. Nothing that feels this good could ever be considered bad.”

Her pussy rippled at my words, and I opened my eyes in time to see a bouncer across the room staring directly at us.

He knew what he was seeing.

I turned the chair slightly and said, “There’s a bouncer across the room that’s watching you.”

She couldn’t stop herself from turning her head.

The moan that she let out said one thing, but the way her pussy gripped me tighter said another.

“He can’t tell,” she disagreed. “Don’t play like that, or we’ll stop.”

We wouldn’t be stopping.

She knew it.

I knew it.

The goddamn bouncer knew it.

I fucked her slower then, dragging out her pleasure and pending orgasm, causing her to snarl in defiance.

“No, more!” she declared, her fingernails digging into my shoulder blades as she clenched her hands.

I didn’t give her more.

I gave her what I wanted, which in the end, would be what she needed.

“You’re killing me,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.

Movement to my left had me turning slightly so that I could see the couple at the cube a few over from ours.

They were dancing, but the woman with them was watching us, wondering if we were only dancing or doing other things.

I turned away, not caring to confirm anything for her.

Her breath hitched. “People know.”

“People suspect,” I disagreed. “But there’s a guy in the very back corner. See him? He’s definitely doing it. You can tell.”

Her breath came out in a steady stream as she breathed out shakily. “He’s not even trying to hide it.”

“No,” I agreed. “He’s not.”

She snickered as she smoothed one of her hands up the length of my throat to curl around my jaw.

I leaned forward until my forehead was pressed against hers, then moved my hips to the sway of the sultry beat.

She shivered with delight.

My cock was doused in her cream, and I wanted nothing more than to fuck her hard and fast, come so hard inside of her that she wouldn’t be able to walk out of here steadily.

Instead, I stayed the course, not being quite as obvious as the others in the room that were doing the same thing that we were.

I could feel her pussy rippling, readying to come apart all over my bare cock.

God.

Bare cock.

I really should control myself.

I knew better.

Coreline knew better.

Hell, everyone who had even the basics of sex, knew better.

But the idea of binding her to me forever. To making it to where she always had to be there whether she wanted to or not… no matter what I did to her to piss her off. The appeal of getting her pregnant, forcing that had… yeah, I got off on it.

Because I would piss her off.

I would do it often, and repeatedly. Possibly in the same day.

Because that was just who I was.

“I’m coming,” she whispered shakily in my ear, her fingers fisting my beard hairs and making my eyes sting in response to the pain stimulus.

“You sure are,” I growled, feeling the difference.

Her pussy rippled.

Her muscles tightened into a fist.

And goddammit, I was coming, too.