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That’s when Hunter looked me dead in the eye. No words needed to be said, but the fierceness in them told me everything.
“Christ, I want to feel your warmth surrounding my cock, Monroe,” he admits when he moves his mouth away from mine. This time, it’s me seeking him. My hands delve into his hair. He didn’t slick it back in his signature faux hawk, giving me the grasp on him that I need, soft and silky. It would figure too, the rare chances we get to shower together when no one is at the clubhouse, he uses one soap for freaking everything. Meanwhile, women have to use a smorgasbord of shit to reach that same quality.
“Please,” I moan before capturing his upper lip with my own. Hunter backs me up, and I think he’s going to stop what we just started. But that’s not what he’s doing. He’s straddling his bike, unbuttoning his jeans, taking his cock out, and fisting it. My legs shift together, trying to quench this ache Hunter always seems to create within me.
“Lose the panties, Monroe. You want me, you’re gonna get me, and I’m about to make one of my fantasies a reality,” Hunter demands, his eyes locked on me, but he doesn’t stop working his thick cock. The drop of precum at the tip makes me lick my lips, wanting to taste him over and over again.
“God, I don’t think I’ll ever stop being amazed by your cock and how it even fits inside me.” I wasn’t a virgin when Hunter and I started seeing one another, but that didn’t mean I’ve ever seen or felt a dick that big either. Jesus, its width and length. It’s the best of both worlds, even I know that.
“Oh, we know just how well I fit inside you, don’t we, trouble?” He’s alluding to the first time we had sex. As much as we tried to take it hard and fast, slow and steady ended up being the only way we could because of how big he is. I shimmy out of my panties, keeping my boots on, holding the sheer fabric in my hands, not wanting it to get damaged by the dusty ground, and saunter over to him.
“Yeah, we do.” He slides back, stabilizing my body while I straddle him, my core pumping against his thickness, my center wet and ready to accept him, much easier than our first time.
“God,” I moan out my pleasure. His cock is right where I need him most, and with the leverage I have, it’s easy to slide down on him. Only this time, I don’t need slow. I need Hunter unrestrained.
“Fuck, woman. Give a man a warning. Haven’t been inside you for days, then you take my whole dick inside that hot little cunt in one go.” His words only make my body quiver even more. My feet move to the passenger foot pegs, giving me the grasp I need to slide up and down his length.
“Are you scared you’re going to come too soon?” I tease. One thing about Hunter, he is definitely a pleaser. He gives more than he takes. It’s why nine times out of ten, I come multiple times before Hunter finally relents and lets go.
“I think you know better than to question that.” He surges his hips up. A loud gasp leaves my mouth, and when my tank top is pulled down, one of Hunter’s hands cupping my breast from underneath, his thumb sliding over my pebbled nipple, I swear I’m going to come.
“Don’t stop.” Our bodies work together, both of us starting to become breathless, my center clenching down on his cock, and when his mouth lands on my other nipple, biting down, it’s just what I need to come all over his length.
“Christ, feel how wet you are, soaking both of us. I’m gonna make you come again, and this time, you’ll take me with you.” Hunter redoubles his effort, moving from my nipples to my mouth, kissing, biting, and sucking, then to the side of my neck until he lands back where he started.
“Hunter,” I grunt while sliding down him harder than the last time. He bites down on my nipple, licking the tip, and that’s all it takes. A deep moan leaves me, echoing amongst the trees.
“Monroe.” The way he whispers my name against my chest, it’s like a reckoning on a warm Sunday morning meant all for me.
Seven
Cannon
Saying goodbye to Monroe was not something I looked forward to, but when she brought up that we should tell the club together again, I knew once she left me to go back to Doc’s, it was time to deal with the fallout. I texted Shovel, letting him know we needed a meeting, and that’s where we all are now. The whole fucking club—Shovel, Razor, Doc, Ruger, Dice, Crank, Rage, and Bullet. Thank fuck Bennett ain’t in here, or I’d really be hurting. That fucker likes brass knuckles, or at least likes showing them off. I’ve yet to see them in use, but I sure as hell don’t want to, either.
