(Iron Horse MC #2)
by Ann Mayburn
Published November 26th 2014 by Fated Desires Publishing, LLC
For the first time in my life I know what it’s like to be completely and truly adored by a man who loves me for exactly who I am, a high functioning autistic with more personality quirks than there are stars in the Texas Hill Country night sky.
Some people think my boyfriend, Smoke, is a total biker psycho, a natural born killer who will destroy anyone who threatens what he considers his. They wouldn’t be wrong, but he’s so much more than that. He’s my dark salvation, my beloved fallen angel who is trying with all of his wicked heart to save me from what seems like an entire world bent on either killing me or a fate worse than death.
We’re headed to the Denver, Colorado chapter of the Iron Horse MC, chasing after my narcissistic, junkie mother who decided to steal from some very bad men leaving her two daughters behind to pay the price for her betrayal. My twin sister, Sarah, old lady to the Iron Horse MC president, is looking for my mother as well, but Sarah’s gone rogue and has no one to guard her back which worries me deeply. To further complicate matters, there are traitors in the Iron Horse MC who are working with my mother, not only helping her to escape but also informing my enemies of my every move.
The odds are stacked against me, but I will do whatever is necessary to protect those I love, and with Smoke at my side, I just might make it out of this mess alive.
I was still lost in my own fantasy world when the door to my side of the truck was jerked open, and I was snatched out before I could tumble to the ground. Smoke ignored my shriek and grabbed a blanket from the backseat before carrying me over his shoulder to the back of the truck. He took the gate down, tossed the blanket onto the bed of the truck, then perched me on the blanket, all while speaking in Spanish to someone on the phone. Judging by his tone, it wasn’t a happy conversation, but he gazed at me with lust and not anger. He wasn’t pleased with whoever he was talking to, and it made his movements somewhat harsher than usual, more dominant.
I liked that.
He put his hand over the cellphone and said in a stern, no-bullshit voice, “Take your pants off and play with that sweet pussy for me. Fuck, the thought of being the first to do all these dirty things with you and knowing that I’m gonna be the only man you’ll ever have inside of you, makes me want to give your greedy body every inch of cock it wants, and then some. I own that golden cunt.”
I moaned loudly, and arched my hips up at him, begging him to touch me as he seduced me with his raw words. I wanted to argue that I belonged only to myself, but that wasn’t true. Smoke owned a piece of me now, not just my libido but a bit of my heart and soul. I should’ve been freaked out, but I also realized I owned a part of him as well.
I looked into his dark eyes and studied his face, and found a dizzying amount of desire mixed with rougher, darker emotions. I deliberately made a great production of taking my clothes off, putting everything I’d learned while working at a strip club to good use. My moves were controlled, the dip of a shoulder to draw his gaze to my neck, a slight arch to my back that pushed my butt out.
His voice faltered for a moment then picked back up as he traced his fingers over my bottom. The tremble in his fingertips as he stroked me made me want to drive him crazy. This man loved me. It was evident in his every caress, his every glance, and his every territorial move. Smoke was one hundred percent alpha male, and his need to assert his dominance over me never failed to turn me on. He put his hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me down, then propped my butt up so I had to curve my spine to accommodate his silent demands.
Remembering what he wanted from me, I spread my legs the slightest bit and slowly ran my fingertip over the wet slit of my sex. Smoke went silent behind me for a long, long moment. When he spoke again, his voice had a rough edge to it that hadn’t been there before. I stared at the bed of the truck with unseeing eyes, my imagination painting vivid pictures of my man standing behind me, trying to concentrate on business while I tempted him with pleasure. The control that I had over Smoke with my body ramped my desire higher as I tried to entice him to touch me…taste me.
I teased myself and him, swirling two of my fingers through my arousal before sinking them slowly inside of me. I startled when Smoke grabbed my hips, but it was only so he could arch me further and spread my legs wider, leaving nothing of my body hidden from him. He stroked the back of my thigh with one hand, his voice becoming nothing but a rumbling sound in my ears as I reveled in his attention. My fingers felt good inside of me, but his cock would feel so much better.
“Touch me,” I whispered.
Evidently I said it loud enough so that Smoke could hear me, because a second later he spanked my bottom hard enough to sting. I almost jerked my hand away from my pussy in surprise, but his hand cupped over mine. He moved my fingers inside of me, using my hand to touch my pussy the way he wanted me to. I gave myself over to him completely, my bite-bruised breasts crushed to the blanket and my ass feeling heated in the cool air.
When he was satisfied that I was playing with my sex as he’d silently instructed, he removed his hand for a moment and unzipped his pants to free his thick erection Then he ran his thumb near the entrance to my body, coating it with my arousal. I tensed when that thumb began to spread my natural lubricant up to my anus, but he just played with me, toying with my body until I was trying to get him to sink his thumb into my bottom. A naughty pleasure tightened my sex, and I groaned as he slowly breached my rear entrance with his thumb, which felt gigantic.
I tensed, not sure if I liked this sensation. It was weird and uncomfortable and…ohhhh, God... Smoke was smacking my hand away so he could press his rock-hard shaft against my pussy. His thumb turned from a distraction to an erotic thrill as he slowly sank into me, now speaking in English. I had no idea what he was saying, too caught up in the press of his almost unbearably thick dick breaching me where I needed him the most. The feeling of coming together was bliss, and I moaned from deep in my chest. When he went to pull out, I squeezed my inner muscles and earned a rough, choking sound from Smoke, followed by a snarl directed at the person on the phone.
“Baby, bite down on that blanket,” he whispered to me. “I don’t want this dirty fucker Hustler listening to you. You get too loud and I’ll stop fuckin’ you.”
I managed to gather the blanket, and hoped it was clean as I bit down on it. Personally, I didn’t give a shit if Hustler heard me. I’d seen him getting a blowjob by a pretty, but world-weary woman. Hustler could kiss my ass about me making any noises. It felt good to moan my pleasure into the cloth, and I had no doubt that Smoke—he loved gagging me—was getting off on the sight. Evidently, I had a bit of an exhibitionist streak because the idea of Hustler on the phone getting turned on by our fucking made my pussy clench. Now, I’m not saying I’d touch Hustler, ever, but I wanted to do anything and everything, as long as I did it with Smoke. A decadent shiver went through me at the sheer naughtiness of what we were doing, and I began to rock back onto Smoke’s devastating cock, enjoying the slow burn as he stretched me.
He stood still and let me experiment, his thumb still playing with my bottom. My eyelids slowly closed, and I became lost in the nothingness, my entire being focused on what kind of sensations I could coax from my buzzing nerves while rocking my hips back into Smoke. Soon, I was making little, pained noises into the blanket. There was a place on the upper part of my pussy that felt really, really good when he stroked over it in a certain way. The ridge of the crest of his shaft was pressing into me just right, and I shuddered then grunted.
I barely moved a few inches with each roll of my hips, trying to move to maximize that wonderful, hard tingle I got with every short stroke. It almost felt like he was rubbing my clit from the inside. Another hard moan escaped me, muffled by the blanket, then both of Smoke’s hands gripped my hips hard enough that it sent bright sparks of pleasure/pain surging through me.
“You like that, my naughty girl? When my cock strokes you right…there?”
I cried out as he shoved roughly into me, pressing hard on that spot and making my whole body shiver and shake.
“Yeah, you like that.” His chuckle was that of a smug, self-satisfied male. “We’ll have to see if I can make you squirt for me sometime. But right now, I need to fuck you before anyone else calls me.”
With that he pulled all the way out until the bulbous head of his dick stretched the entrance to my sex, a cry of distress leaving my lips before I could stop it. He laughed again, but the sound turned into a growl as he began to fuck me, harsh thrusts that rocked the truck with his movements. One of his hands left my hip and wound into my hair, pulling back hard enough that I couldn’t help but scream out my pleasure.
Have you read the first IRON HORSE MC book?
Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.
From a young age she's been fascinated by myths and fairytales, and the romance that often was the center of the story. As Ann grew older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.
Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has learned to type one handed while soothing a cranky baby. http://www.annmayburn.com/
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