Cupid's Arrow (Devils Rejects MC 4)
Chapter One
—MaryAnn
Three months Ago
“You know I could make you go.” Cupid smirks at me with his smug bastard grin. The one he knows I can’t resist. The smile that has any woman ready to go down on her knees and pay worship to his almighty cock. Something I have been doing a lot of lately.
“No one would want me there. It wouldn’t be right.” I shake my head. The fantasy of hopping on the back of Cupid’s motorcycle and attending Hades’ wedding sounds beautiful in theory. However, I know my place—down on my knees or bent over for any member of Devils Rejects MC who wants me. Some might say because I am a clubwhore that they use me. That may be true, but I use them too.
“I want you there.” He grabs my hand and tugs, trying to pull me back down to his bed and he succeeds. His sweet lips brush over my knuckles. “I also want you right here.” Putting my hand around his cock, with his hand covering mine, he strokes slowly, teasing me. “Wanna go for a ride?” He laughs, his hazel eyes brimming with hunger.
“I should be getting back downstairs.”
Cupid sighs. “Work smerk.” Reaching into the nightstand, he pulls out a condom and rolls it on his growing erection. Laying on his back the man looks like a tattooed God. I can’t help but appreciate the view. A Celtic knotted cross covers the center of his chest.
Chewing on my bottom lip I know I won’t deny him. I couldn’t if I tried. I’m becoming addicted to this man. His body—his cock is my drug. Cupid makes me feel like I matter. That I’m not just some easy pussy for him to stick his cock in.
“Take these back off,” he demands, hooking a thumb under the waist of my G-string.
“And if I say no?” I fight the urge not to smile as he juts his bottom lip out. “You gonna pout?”
Before I know what’s happening he wraps his arms around me in a bear hug, positioning me on my back, so that he is the one in control. I kick my legs, pretending to be perturbed all the while loving his attention and his dominating nature.
Taking hold of both sides of the thin string holding my bottoms on my ass he rips them off with little force. “Much better,” he growls. His nose runs along the seam of my pussy lips. “Mmm, you smell like me. Fuckin’ shit turns me on,” he confesses, moving up my body and lying next to me and warmth pools deep in my womb. “Are you wet for me, sweet Mary?” Sliding a finger through my slick heat his eyes darken. “Hell yeah you are. My sweet girl is always so damn ready for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasp as his finger curls inside me.
“Want me filling this greedy pussy with my fat cock, don’t you?”
“Yes, Cupid.”
He pinches my clit with his other hand. “Call me, Ryan. Want my real name on those lips when I fuck you.”
My heart skips a beat. I’ve never had a club member tell me his real name let alone ask me to use it. I wet my lips. “I want you, Ryan.”
“Oh baby, you have no idea how good it is to hear you say my name,” he whispers, closing in on my mouth. His tongue sweeps along my lips, hot and tasting of the joint he smoked about ten minutes ago. That’s what woke me up this morning. The smell of the smoke. I didn’t mean to sleep over. That’s not our arrangement. I usually come to his room, we get each other off, then I leave to my own room. Last night though, after, he held me in his arms, petting my hair, not talking while he did it, but still it was sweet. Was different than what I am used to.
The guys aren’t exactly rough with me, but they are normally about getting theirs and falling asleep. Cupid being so affectionate, it meant something to me, though it probably shouldn’t. He was pretty wasted last night. He probably still is, and considering he just smoked a fat joint, I shouldn’t take anything he says to heart. Even if the words are nice to hear, I know they are weightless and will lead nowhere. I’m not new to this life. I’ve been around a few years now. I know clubwhores aren’t housewives.
Men like Cupid don’t settle down with women like me. They go out and marry cunts like Uno’s bitch wife, Stephanie, and then they get to treat me like shit, because in the grand scheme of things I am below them. Though, I give a lot of these guys credit, they don’t fuck around on their wives.
Not that I have seen anyhow. I just get to warm their beds until they find their one. I’ve made my peace with my role. I gave up dreaming of another life long ago.
“God, MaryAnn…” a shudder ripples through his body as he inches his sheathed cock inside me. “Feels so good, but I know it could feel better. Do you trust me?” Cupid eases
back out and stills as his body hovers over mine. “Want to feel you skin to skin.”
I shake my head. “We can’t. You know the rules.” One of the main rules is sex with a clubwhore must be with protection. No accidental pregnancies. No baby momma drama stirring up any unnecessary bullshit.
“Rules were meant to be broken.” He pushes back in then draws out at a torturous pace. “Just for a minute. I’ll put it back on.”
We both know it’s a lie, but I give in anyway.
Cupid takes the condom off and throws it across the room. “Fuck, baby.” He bites my shoulder as he sinks in my velvet heat and we get lost in each other, forgetting our roles. Right now, I’m not a whore and he isn’t the vice president of the club. We’re MaryAnn and Ryan. A man and a woman seeking pleasure. Taking anything the other is willing to give. My body and his sweet little whispered lies of how special I am.
This man’s gaze holds me hostage as our bodies move but our eyes stay focused, locked on one another. I can’t help but wonder if this is what making love feels like. It’s been so long, fucking is all I know.
“I don’t ever want to stop fucking you. Motherfuck me, if this is the end I’ll die a happy man.” He bends his head down to capture one of my nipples in his smooth-talking mouth. Teasing and tasting. Giving and receiving. He ravishes my body with his tongue and fingers.
Rolling to his back, he brings me with him, never breaking our connection. Slapping my ass, roughly he orders me to ride him and I gladly comply.
“I love the way your big tits bounce as you work my cock.”
——
After spending the morning in Cupid’s bed, I’m overdue on starting my chores. Not that I think anyone notices. They don’t pay much attention to anything I do unless they need or want something.