Dragon Royal Bastards MC (Tulsa, OK)

By the time I reach the shower, he’s already soaping up. I join him beneath the spray, eager to wash the day’s travel off me. Dragon, once he’s cleaned himself off, sets to washing me. There’s something intimate and oddly soothing about the way he’s taking care of me right now. I know this thing between us is just an itch that needs scratching, but when he does stuff like this, it’s easy to forget how much he annoys me.

I like it.

I like him.

I like the way he makes me feel when I’m with him.

Valued. Wanted. Craved. Needed.

Still soapy, he seizes my ass cheek in his powerful grip and pulls me to him. My arms snake up around his neck on instinct. His hips are rough as he grinds his erection into mine, crowding me against the shower wall that sends icy shivers down my spine.

“You can’t fuck me in here,” I murmur, tilting my head back.

His lips on my neck part and a chuckle comes out, dark and devious. “I can do whatever I want.”

“We don’t have lube.”

“I’ll improvise.”

That should terrify me, not get my blood pumping hotter, faster, furiously.

“Soap?”

“No, my little masochist. Soap will burn like a motherfucker.”

“Spit? Water?”

“No. Grab that bottle over there.”

Conditioner.

Lovely. I’m going to have conditioner up my ass.

Yet, I reach over and retrieve the bottle for him anyway. Apparently, getting dicked by a psychopath with a bottle of hotel conditioner will suffice for me.

“Bend over and let me see your hole.”

God, he’s so damn filthy.

“Freak,” I mutter but obey him nonetheless.

His palm strikes my ass cheek. “You’re a freak too, baby.”

Baby.

I hate that I swoon when he says that. When he leaves off the prospect part of my road name. It’s such a small thing, but it really turns me on and makes me feel more than desired. Cherished. By Chase the motherfucking dragon.

He digs his thumbs into each of my ass cheeks, spreading them to expose my hole to him. Heat floods through me, burning over my flesh much hotter than the shower water. I’m at his mercy, being forced to show him a vulnerable part of me.

I expect a glob of conditioner.

Or an antagonistic comment.

Mostly, I expect a rough finger.

What I don’t expect is a tongue, tentatively tasting me there. Again! I would shudder at the kinkiness of it and his apparent newfound love for it, except it feels too fantastic. Flutters of pleasure splinter through me, making me nearly black out from bliss.

“You like that?” His words are whispered against the hole. What the fuck? Who whispers to someone’s asshole? Why do I like it?

“Y-Yes.”

“Me too.”

I don’t get a chance to revel in our shared love of this naughty act because he begins licking and sucking and fucking nibbling my hole with more zeal than the last time. Practice makes perfect, it would seem.

Fuck.

It feels insanely good.

My knees buckle and moans spill out of me. I don’t care, though. I brace my hands on the wall and shamelessly push my ass against his greedy tongue, aching for more. More. More.

With a groan that vibrates me down to my toes, he pushes against the pucker. To my mix of delight and horror, his tongue penetrates me like last time. Presses inside me, hot and wet and slick. It feels unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life because it’s somehow ten times better than his last stab at it.

I love it.

“Oh, God,” I whimper. “Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He eats me like there’s no tomorrow. Tongue fucks me like it’s his job. The man might be crazy as hell, but he’s good at this—sex—us. His tongue slides out of me, causing me to whimper, but then his finger is there, longer and firmer. He curls his finger, pressing against my prostate with enough pressure it has me crying out in ecstasy. My nuts tighten and cum shoots out of me, splattering the wall in front of me.

“I love when you whimper for me,” he croons, his praise washing over me like the hot water coming from the showerhead. “I also love it when you scream.”

To punctuate his words, he pushes another finger into my clenching, sensitive hole. I can barely hold myself up, still quaking from the aftershocks of my incredible orgasm.

“Say it,” he commands.

“I love it.”

We’re in sync. I know what he wants because I want it too. This chaotic mix of roughness blended with beautiful pleasure. A two-sided coin of pain and bliss.

His fingers slip out of me and then I vaguely hear a squirt. I no longer care that he’s using conditioner. All I care about is him fucking me. Now. His massive hand comes around my front, splaying over my abs as he rubs the head of his cock along my crack.

“Beg to be fucked, Cove.”

My name on his lips is intoxicating.