Maverick (Hell's Handlers MC 2)

“Oh, my God, Maverick,” she said after only another thirty seconds. “I’m going to come already. Fuck, it’s gonna be big.”

“That’s right, baby. Come hard. All over my cock. Let me feel that come all the way to my balls.”

“Shit,” she cried out as their hips slammed together once again. This time, when he tried to lift her back up, she resisted and ground herself into his pelvis while she squeezed his sides with her surprisingly strong thighs. Her head dropped back, and she wailed as her core fisted him in wild pulses.

She was fucking gorgeous when she came.

There was no way in hell he could hold off after that display. The next time her pussy squeezed him, he buried his face in her neck and shouted out his own release. Whatever it was, taking her bare, the quick heart to heart, or thrill of being in public, it was fucking intense. For a second, he worried his insides had melted when his abs clenched so hard as he rode the wave to paradise.

Stephanie collapsed against him, warm, liquid in his arms, spent. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk for a few days,” she mumbled into his neck.

He grunted out a laugh and stroked his hands over the round curve of her ass. They stayed that way for a few moments, quiet despite the chaos of the clubhouse around them. Just when he was about to check if Steph had fallen asleep, she sat straight up and looked over her shoulder.

With his softening cock still inside her, he gasped at the sensation her movements caused. The mingled mess of their fucking trickled out of her and down his dick, coating his balls. After that monster orgasm, he shouldn’t be able to get hard again for a week, but damn if feeling their come dripping all over him didn’t have him halfway there already.

He followed Stephanie’s gaze to where Screw and the Honey were righting their clothing. Well, the Honey was trying to fix her shit, but Screw kept coping a feel. She swatted his hands away from her tits as she tried to adjust them in her top.

Steph turned back to him with a playful glint in her eyes. “I think we need to leave now.”

He arched his pierced brow. “Oh, yeah? Where we going?”

“Well,” she said, reaching out and playing with his nipple rings through his T-shirt. “I’m thinking your room. I’m feeling the sudden need to be bent over something and fucked from behind.” She tilted her head and gave him the cutest damn smirk. “Wonder why?”

“Fuuuck,” he said, blowing out a breath. She wanted to reenact what they’d watched Screw do with the Honey.

Mav was fully hard and aching again the instant the words left her mouth.

He stood so fast, Stephanie stumbled and almost knocked the table clear over. Not giving a single shit about the table, Mav yanked her skirt back in place and tucked his sticky dick back into his jeans.

Wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, he drew her against his lips. “You feel me on your legs?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good. Get used to it.” He grabbed her hand, and together they raced toward the stairs and up to his room.

He owed Screw a cold one, that was for damn sure.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

PATIENCE HAD NEVER been Maverick’s strongest suit, and waiting for Steph over the past forty-five minutes had been hell. Especially since Rocket hadn’t said a damn word the entire time. So there was nothing to distract him, nothing to keep him from watching the house and worrying about Stephanie.

“Jesus, fuck,” Rocket said on a growl. “Just fucking stop already.”

With a scowl, Mav turned to his brother. “The fuck’s your problem? You haven’t said two words since we got here, and now you got shit with how I’m handling myself?”

“Your woman is fine. Stop the damn fidgeting.” Rocket was on his bike alongside Mav. Dark glasses concealed his eyes, but the crossed arms and glower made it clear he wasn’t pleased.

Mav glanced down at his left boot, bouncing off the ground like he was itching to get up and dance. What could he say? He was high energy and jittery when he was stressed.

Rocket drew out a pack of cigarettes. “Here,” he said. “Do something the fuck else, will ya?”

It wasn’t often Maverick smoked anymore, usually just if he was crazy tense. Last time he’d had one was after the meeting with Lefty. Needed it to calm his nerves and squash his desire to murder the man. When he’d kissed Stephanie afterward, she’d wrinkled her little nose and demanded he brush his teeth before getting his mouth on her again. “Nah, man, I’m good. Sorry ’bout the tapping.”

Rocket snorted and lit a smoke, mumbling something under his breath.

“What was that?” Mav asked. At least this frustrating conversation was some kind of distraction. He glanced at the house again then back to Rocket.