Their Fierce Love (Death Lords MC 4)

“Open up, baby,” he commands. He thrusts his still hard cock in my mouth and I suck him hard, trying to swallow every drop of semen he produces. Cool air hits my sex as Michigan’s mouth leaves me but I have no time to mourn the loss because his hips are between my legs in no time.

Instinctively, I hook my ankles around his muscular butt and pull him closer. He spreads me with one hand, readying me, and with one thrust impales me on his shaft. Easy keeps thrusting in my mouth, his now thickening cock tickling the back of my throat. I open my mouth wider, relax my throat until he’s past the gag reflex and his wiry pubic curls are tickling my nose.

Now I’m full. Now I’m complete.

Michigan’s fingers bite into my hips as he jerks me against him. Deliberately, I contract my sex muscles and am rewarded instantly with a deeply satisfied male groan. His pace quickens and I hear the slap of his skin against mine as his thrusts become harder and wilder.

I give myself over to the moment and luxuriate in the decadence of having two men devoted to nothing but pleasuring me over and over and over again. Pleasure seizes me, swallows me whole and my whole body is engulfed in ecstasy.

They collapse next to me as I fade into unconsciousness once again.

Chapter Two

Easy

Annie’s stomach wakes her up midafternoon. Our bags are packed and Michigan has made a food run twice while she’s slept. I worry that she might be too sore for a ride back home on one of our bikes.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have taken her that last time.” My mouth is full of burrito but Michigan understands me. We’ve been together since we were eighteen and stupid new Marine recruits. Eleven years later and we’re still together, just not as stupid.

Instead we were growing jaded and unhappy. Michigan and I wanted an unconventional life—to share one woman. It’s easy—no pun intended—to get a chick to fuck us one night or even several. But to have a relationship with us? Shit, those women didn’t exist. At least that’s what Michigan thought. He’d given up on finding the one.

I’m not sure what he had planned on doing other than smoke himself into an early grave. Then Annie came along and Michigan’s eyes have some life to them and he hasn’t picked up a cancer stick since she put on those claiming cuffs. Fuck, I get hard every time I look at her wrists.

“You want to rent a cage?”

Driving a pickup or some other four-wheel vehicle is like riding in a cage when your preferred method of transportation is on the back of a low-riding, two-wheeled machine but I’d make that sacrifice if Annie needed it.

“Let’s see how it goes. If she’s shifting like an antsy kid on the back of the bike, then we’ll stop and do a rental before we get past the city limits.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Any further conversation is put on hold when Annie bolts upright in the bed. Her hair is bunched up into a messy nest. Probably from all the times I stuck my hands in it when I was fucking her mouth or her ass or her tight cunt. No doubt she’d look in the mirror and think it looks terrible, but I love it and a quick glance at Michigan’s admiring face tells me loves it too.

But I know better than to suggest she leave it like that.

“My goodness, why didn’t you wake me up?” She jumps out of bed and I lean back to watch the show as she roots around for clean clothes. Grabbing up a shopping bag, she runs to the bathroom, her pert, small breasts jiggling the whole way. Michigan releases a small chuckle when the door slams shut behind her. “I heard that,” she calls through the door.

“You’re looking gorgeous, sweetheart,” he yells and flashes me a quick grin.

Yup, Annie turned up right in time.

We hear a screech as her eyes must have met the mirror, taking in what both Michigan and I think is sexy as fuck but she clearly does not.

She wrenches open the door. “I hate you for not telling me I look like a nightmare.”

“Baby, if that’s what nightmares look like, I’m going to watch scary movies every night.” I stretch my arms across the back of the sofa appreciating that she hasn’t noticed she’s naked yet. Or maybe we’ve fucked enough that she’s getting comfortable around us.

She snorts and slams the door. Soon the sounds of the shower are running.

Michigan’s grin falls away and he turns to me with a serious expression. “How are we going to play this back home? We can’t keep making up a bunch of stories to cover her absence and I don’t want to go home every night and not have her in bed with us.”

I rub my chin. “I’ve been thinking about it. The best thing is to move her in with us but I’m not sure she’s ready for that.”

“Yeah, don’t fucking bring that up yet. I don’t want her running away.” He’s worried and the truth is I am too. We don’t know much about Annie other than she’s lived with her old man all her life. He’s a preacher and Annie was a virgin when she came to us so he’s probably been pretty strict with her.

“What about her mom? Has she said much to you about her?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Only that the mom left when Annie was young. Annie sounds real grateful whenever she talks about her old man—how he didn’t leave her too and allowed her to come back and live with him when she couldn’t get hired on anywhere else after high school.”

“You don’t think that’s weird?”

“What?”

“All of it. That she’s grateful her fucking father didn’t leave her. That she couldn’t get a job, even at a grocery store or something, and had to go back home?”

He’s quiet, thinking about it, and then frowns. “You think he had something to do with her not getting a job?”

“Annie’s smart and nice. I can’t see her getting turned down from an entry level job somewhere.”

“So her old man is a controlling bastard who probably drove his wife away and has made his daughter think that she should be grateful that he’s doing his parental duty.”

“About sums it up for me.”

The shower shuts off and I jerk my head at the bathroom door. Michigan nods. This is a conversation Annie doesn’t appear ready to have yet but we will need to talk to her about how we work out the dating thing.

“It should be you,” Michigan says.

“Why me? I haven’t fucking dated a chick since high school.” My courting techniques are pretty rusty. I haven’t met a father or had to sweet-talk him into letting me into his daughter’s bedroom since forever.

“Because you’re from Fortune. You’ve got three generations in that town and a shit ton more respectability than me.”

“We wear the same colors.” I point to our leather cuts hanging over the back of two chairs that proclaim us to be Death Lords enforcers. We aren’t just members in a motorcycle club; we’re officers, my generations of living in Fortune notwithstanding.

“You got to admit that her old man is going to think you’re a better catch than me.”

“I don’t got to admit shit. I’m a former Marine, so are you. I’m an enforcer with the club, so are you. I work at Mallory’s Manufacturing delivering shit and so do you. So don’t come at with me with the you’re more respectable than me bullshit.”

He sighs in frustration and runs his hands over his head. “Look, I don’t want to date her either. I just want—”

In our stupid fucking ignorance, we failed to notice that the door to the bathroom door had opened. Annie stood there, hurt all over her face, looking like she either wants to cry or punch us. Please, punch us. Tears from her would render me completely incapacitated.

“That was not a very nice conversation to listen to.” Her voice trembles a little.

“It’s not what you think.” I half rise and hold out my hand as if I can hold back her tears with a gesture.

“Okay. Then explain it for me.”

“Thank Christ,” I breathe. Michigan hasn’t moved, probably because he’s afraid the whole amazing thing is going to blow up in our faces. I start talking. “We want

you in our lives. We gave you those claiming bracelets because we want you to wear them all of the fucking time, not just when you’re with us. We suspect your old man is pretty strict, right?” I pause and continue when she nods. “So far we’ve had to make up a couple of stories to get you with us but we don’t want to continue doing that.”

“What do you want?” she asks in a quiet, small voice.

The fear in her voice galvanizes Michigan. “We want you. All the time. In our beds. In our lives. What about you?”

She exhales deeply and steps into the room toward Michigan and me. “I want you both but you’re right. Father does not believe in premarital sex and he isn’t going to approve of me sleeping with you. I need to find my own place.”

Michigan growls. “You can move in with us.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t. I mean, I could but I also need a new job. Father’ll consider me dating the both of you too sinful for me to have a place in the church. The last church secretary had to leave because she got a divorce. Father said it was unseemly and that the church staff had to be above approach." She gives us a wry smile. "Even having sex outside of marriage is enough to get me in hot water with him."

Michigan’s eyebrows shoot into his forehead. "Sounds like ninety-nine percent of your church is going to hell then."

"It's okay for you to sit in the pews and sin but not in the church office.” She hesitates. “And I’d like to have my own place just in case.”

"In case of what?" Michigan frowns.

"In case we dump her," I interrupt. "Isn't that what you're thinking, baby?"

She flushes, but straightening her shoulders she says, “We've known each other for only a short time. You say it's serious and I feel like there's something special between us. I've never felt the need to lie to Father or break rules just to have something or be with someone. But with you two, the compulsion is so strong I can't resist. How do I know it’s the same for you? You’ve had other women before, shared other woman. You could be tired of me next week; then I wouldn’t have a job or a place to live.”