As I slip the wide blindfold over his eyes, I’m almost wondering whether I should forego it. Shame, really, to cover such beautiful, expressive eyes. Maybe later I will leave it off. But for now...
“Can you see me, my pet?”
He releases a long breath. “No.”
“Do you want to see me?”
“Yes,” he hisses, which makes me smile. Now, to begin...
I check the Wartenberg pinwheel in my hand. One of my favorites. Unlike pinwheels from when we were children that spin in the breeze, this pinwheel is oh so adult. It reminds me of a cowboy’s spur. The handle is made of metal, with twenty sharp needle-like points radiating from its wheel. It could be used twofold... to bring pleasure or to bring pain, depending on the pressure, depending on its use.
But for now, I want my pet to be hard, ready for me for when I’m ready for him. I want him to be driven to please me after I please him.
Give and take. I will give and I will take. He will come along for the ride.
“One Mississippi,” I murmur as I roll the wheel along his skin from his pelvis up his belly to his chest. He sucks in his stomach and blows out a breath, his cock twitching, leaking between us.
“Two Mississippi.” I lightly direct it over his right nipple.
“Ah fuck,” he mutters, his jaw tight.
“Three Mississippi.” I roll it to his left nipple, over the very hard tip and he jerks in his restraints.
“Bree,” he breathes.
I love my name on his lips when he’s engulfed in pleasure, it makes my pussy clench. I want to take him there and squeeze him tight, feel him fill me up and make me orgasm mindlessly.
But it’s too soon. We’ve only just begun.
I roll the pinwheel along the tender underside of his arms which are exposed as they stretch before me. I roll it down his chest again, over his stomach, pushing harder this time, leaving marks behind.
“Yes?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he groans.
Not that I’d change my course of action if he’d said no. He knows what he needs to say to stop me.
I continue my path along his waist, over his hips, down his thighs, his muscles tightening, clenching, twitching. Then behind his knees, down his calves, around his ankles. If I didn’t have him bound, I’d do the bottom of his feet and drive him mad.
I’m disappointed I can’t. Maybe next time.
Now on my knees in front of him, I roll it along his inner thighs, coming to the apex of his legs. I study him, the pinwheel gripped tightly in my hand. He’s stunning. His cock is no more than average length, but the girth is remarkable and his balls hang heavy just waiting for my touch.
I don’t know if I should give him that just yet, because I find myself fighting my own urges. And if I give in to them, I’m no longer in control.
No matter what, I don’t want to disappoint Noah again. Not now, not ever.
I rake my nails over his length, then over the tip and a noise escapes him that turns my nipples into even harder points. Lightly, I roll the pinwheel down his length, just missing the delicate skin of his sac.
“Ah, fuck,” he cries out, his chin dropping to his chest.
“You like that, my pet?” I ask him out of courtesy but nothing more.
He says something that sounds like a yes, but isn’t a fully formed word. I smile.
Tonight, neither one of us will be disappointed, unlike all those years ago. I will make sure he leaves here fully satisfied. I will make sure he leaves me in the same way, as well.
I run the sharp wheel over the crown of his cock and circle the head. “You like my instrument of torture?”
No, clearly it is not.
Down and Dirty: Zak
Dirty Angels MC Book 1
Welcome to Shadow Valley where the Dirty Angels MC rule. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this is Zak’s story…
After spending the last ten years in prison, Zak, former DAMC president, has a few priorities: to reconnect with his “brothers,” to get drunk, and to get laid. Not necessarily in that order. When he spots a stunning woman in the clubhouse and mistakes her for one of the club’s strippers, those priorities get a bit skewed.
Sophie has no idea what happened to her life. One minute she’s totally focused on building her bakery business, and the next? She’s delivering a cake to the Dirty Angels motorcycle club’s “homecoming” celebration for a member who just got out of prison. Little does she know baking that cake will change the rest of her life, not to mention, make her a target for a rival MC. Normally, Sophie wouldn’t be caught dead with a man like Zak, a tattooed, ex-con, badass biker.
When a decades old territory war threatens to rip them apart, Zak will do anything to keep Sophie, his club, and the town safe. But being from two different worlds, the threat they’re under may not be worth the risk.
Something wet and warm touched her back there again, probed, teased, and she relaxed as much as she could. His tongue was replaced quickly with a roaming finger, doing the same thing.
When she heard a snap of the cap on the lube, she swallowed hard, her lips parting as her breathing shallowed. The cool gel was a shock against her heated skin, a total contrast to the warmth of his tongue and finger.
Then he was pushing gently, slowly. “That’s it, babe. Take me. Give this to me. Give me everything. All of you. Let me make this mine.” Her body melted into the bed at his murmurs, his whispers, his attempt at calming her spinning mind.
When she brought him upstairs, this was not what she had planned. But the sensations were nothing like she ever felt before. So unexpected. So crazy good. He slipped one knuckle deep, then two. Coaxing her gently, murmuring against her back as he did it.
“Don’t know if this is gonna work, babe. So tight. Might have to run out and—”
“No... Don’t go. Stay, keep going.”
“Fuck, babe. Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me. Survived ten years in the joint to be released and die happy inside you. That’d be the way to go.”
Sophie smiled into her folded arms, but it quickly disappeared when he worked her faster.
Suddenly, he slipped from her and she felt empty.
He slapped her ass lightly. “Up. On your knees. Keep your pretty head down.” God, they needed condoms and he needed to fuck her… like now!
He had iron-clad control, because he didn’t fuck her, instead she heard the hum of a vibrator. Her small purple one; she recognized the sound easily.
“Gonna get you so that you’re beggin’ me, babe. No doubt.”
His tone didn’t sound so cocky now. The way his soft words slipped from his lips, they sounded caring. He wanted to make sure she was ready for him.
The pressure of the small vibrator against the tight rim of her ass made her clench, then as the pulsations radiated through her, she relaxed. Opened to him. Invited him to do whatever he intended.
He hooked an arm around her hips, reaching beneath her to press a thumb against her clit, circling, rubbing, and she opened up even more for him.
“That’s it, babe,” he murmured, the smooth, lubed vibrator sinking deeply, easily into her.
Her eyelids fluttered and eyes rolled back.
Holy hell, if she knew it felt like this, she would have done this a long time ago.
“You like that,” he said, his voice low, strained. He had to be suffering at this point, his erection thick against her thigh.
He began to fuck her with the dildo, while playing with her clit until she cried out, her body convulsing uncontrollably. But he didn’t stop, no, he continued until she lost her mind, desperate for him now. Dying for him to be inside her, to take her completely. And she didn’t care where. Somewhere. Anywhere.
“Zak,” she groaned.
“Soon, babe,” he promised. “I can’t wait much longer, either.”
“Zak,” she called again, her voice breathless.
“Gotta make sure—”
“Zak,” she wailed, dragging his name out until she ran out of breath.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Oh, God, Zak.”
“Goddamn it,” he muttered some more.
“Oh, mother fuck.”
He released a hiss, slipped the vibrator from her, shut it off, then she heard the larger one.
Damn, she couldn’t take another one. She wanted him inside her instead. Not a toy. Him. Real. Hard. All male.
But he pressed the larger vibrator to her clit first, making her jump because it was now so sensitive. Then he slid it back and slipped it easily between her soaked folds. Her back arched as he seated it deep and held it still.
Her head rolled from side to side as she called his name again.
He cursed. And suddenly, he was there, the smooth slick head of his cock gliding against her, asking her permission to enter.
He pressed harder, struggling to get past the tight ring without hurting her. And it did hurt. Though, not enough to tell him to stop. She wanted him to hurry, become a part of her. Take her to the ends of the Earth and back.
Badass biker. Ex-con. Forbidden sex. A thrill ran through her. She gasped when he pushed further, farther, taking it home. Stretching her, filling her. Making her his.
Being the first, and maybe the only, to take her there.
With both the vibrations radiating from her core and him settled deep inside her ass, she bit her lip, her body, her mind spinning out of control.
She wanted him to move, but he didn’t. He remained still, quiet. But she could hear his breath, his deep, but rapid rasping. He started to speak, but his words dissipated into thin air. He tried again, but she couldn’t catch any of those words, either.
She found herself on another plane, another level. Honestly, she didn’t care what he had to say, only cared about what he was about to do.
And when he did it, she cried out. He was right, she would beg him. Beg him for more. Beg him to go faster. Beg him to go deeper.
Even when her lips parted to answer him, assure him she was all right, nothing came out. Nothing but a lost breath escaped.
He folded over her, gripped her hair and pulled her head back, arching her neck. His lips found her ear. “Can’t hold on, babe. I can’t. Sorry.”
It didn’t matter, her body decided she couldn’t, either. She tensed around his cock and the vibrator, both deep inside her, as the waves crashed through her, sweeping her under, dragging him along for the ride.