For a long while, the only sound in the room was my low grunts of pleasure and the wet, slippery sound of my cock driving in and out of her mouth. I slid a little deeper now with each thrust, knowing she would have to time her breathing around the cock in her throat. She knew how to do that. My girl was a practiced cocksucker. She knew what pleased me and did it without fail.
I’d trained her well. The crazy part was, she’d trained me, too. I knew what my girl liked. A firm hand. Clear instructions. Hell, she would do anything to please me and vice versa.
“Enough. Turn around.”
She positioned herself with her pussy in the air, leaning forward to press her chest and head against the bed submissively.
“Good girl,” I murmured, rubbing my thumb over her pussy through the lace. She liked to be teased a bit. Giving me head had gotten her juices flowing, but I was still going to make her work for my cock.
I tugged the lace to the side after a few minutes and rubbed the tip of my shaft against her pussy lips. She started whimpering almost immediately. I took my time, notching my cockhead just inside her.
“Pull me inside you,” I instructed. She whimpered again, begging me to move. But I didn’t budge an inch. I put my hands on my hips and waited. Her body contracted, trying to pull me inside her wet, honeyed pussy. I wanted to move, too. But I had an iron will and self-control. I could wait.
I would wait until she earned it.
Slowly, very slowly, my girl worked my cock deeper inside her, using just her pussy muscles to do it. I grinned, watching proudly as another inch disappeared into her welcoming warmth. I knew it would be impossible for her to get my entire length inside her this way. So when I deemed that she had done enough to prove herself to me, I laid my hands on her gorgeous hips and rewarded her with a long, slow, deep thrust.
She cried out, orgasming almost immediately. I waited, holding perfectly still as she shook and shimmied all over my cock. When her tremors started to slow just a little, I started to fuck her in earnest. I knew I didn’t have to hold back. I knew her pain and pleasure thresholds. And I knew we would fuck at least twice more before the dawn.
So I let the beast inside me loose to take what it wanted from the girl wiggling helplessly on the spear of my cock. I fucked her hard and thoroughly, leaving both of us gasping for air.
When I roared my release later, I had the crazy certainty that we were making a baby. I always seemed to know. I hoped my wife would be pleased, though her last pregnancy had been harder for her.
I leaned forward to kiss the gleaming skin of her back. I pulled out slowly, only after she’d wrung every drop from my cock.
I lifted her gently, laying her on her back and pulling her against me.
“Well done, wife,” I said into her lips.
“Did I make you forget for a little while?” she asked drowsily.
“Yes, woman. You did. Now get some rest. I’ll wake you when I’m ready to have you again.”
She smiled and cuddled into my shoulder. I wouldn’t sleep and we both knew it. I rarely did. I’d learned in the service how to survive on very little rest. But I would hold her and do my best to solve the puzzle that was turning over and over again in my head.
And in a few hours, I would wake her and do it all over again.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hunter
“What the fuck is this shit?” the grizzled, white-haired old biker sputtered as he climbed off his ride.
Cain smiled at me grimly, then slapped Preacher on the back.
“Thanks for coming down, man.”
“If no one is dead and no one is getting married, what the hell do you need me for?”
“Your fucking charm, you mangy old fuck,” Vice said with an eye roll. He was a laugh a goddamn minute. But Preacher had come. We all had. Almost all of us were here. Even Trace, who was pretty much always attached to the motherboard that was the beating heartbeat of Cain’s security firm.
“We are going to shake things up,” Cain said. “It’s go time.”
He nodded, and I kicked in the door to the clubhouse. It was just around sundown, and knowing the Raisers, there was a pretty good bet that most of them had already been drinking in there for hours.
I knew because it was the same shit at the Untouchables’ clubhouse. Most of the guys were degenerates to one degree or another. Even some guys with old ladies at home spent most of their non-working waking hours getting shitfaced and talking motors. Not Cain, Shane, or Preacher, but most did.