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Cary fucked me through the orgasm before grabbing me as he moved us toward the bed, sitting down off the side with me in his lap, still facing away from him.
“Ride, love,” he demanded as his hand slipped between my thighs, engaging my clit, making desire spark through my system once again as I moved my hips up and down, then around, finding the movement that felt best, then sticking with it as the pressure between my thighs grew to a fever pitch much faster than seemed possible.
“Fuck, yeah, squeeze my cock,” Cary growled as the second orgasm racked my system.
He waited until that orgasm passed through me, leaving me leaning back against him, trying to catch my breath. But then he was grabbing me again, turning me, pressing me back against the mattress, then kneeling in front of me.
Reaching down, he grabbed both of my legs, yanking them upward, and pressing them against his shoulder as he slammed back inside me.
His hand pushed down on my lower belly, the pressure creating a new feeling, a more acute sensation of the fullness inside of me.
And then he started to fuck me.
Not as fast, but hard, making me finally understand why the hotel room’s headboards were mounted on the wall and not actually attached to the bed, because if it was, we would have been seriously disturbing whoever was on the other side of the wall as Cary drove me up one final time, as my whimpers became loud moans, then gasps for air as the third orgasm worked its way through my system, somehow even more intense than the two before.
“Fuck, baby,” Cary groaned as he slammed deep, coming on the tail-end of my orgasm, then collapsing down at my side.
“I missed that,” I admitted, turning on my side to press a kiss to his upper arm.
“Me too, love.”
“Let’s never go that long without it again,” I said, feeling playful in the aftermath of all the oxytocin.
“You’re the boss,” he agreed, shooting me a sleepy-eyed, but satisfied smile. “Maybe we should switch to the clubhouse for a while,” he suggested, reaching out to run his thumb down my jaw. “A change of scenery.”
“I thought Fallon didn’t want me in the clubhouse.”
“That was before his brother got shot. And Louana. He’s invested now. Stop,” he demanded, reading my face. “You don’t need to feel guilty. The club, they understand this shit. Did I ever tell you about how Fallon met Danny?”
“No, actually.”
“Danny had Reign, Fallon’s dad, our president at the time, kidnapped.”
“No way.”
“Yeah way. And Roderick, he met his girl Liv when she stole a shipment right out from under him when he was trying to do a drop. Roan’s girl tried to sneak into the compound to kill him. Trust me, love, everyone there has a different kind of acceptance for the women and the wild shit they tend to bring around the club. No one is going to think twice about your history.”
Well, when he put it that way, it did sort of seem like my issues kind of paled in comparison to the others. And that was only a couple examples. The club, apparently, was full of stories like that.
I probably had nothing to worry about.
“Besides, you’re a part of my life now. You’re going to be around them a lot. The quicker you get to know everyone, the easier it will be to feel like a part of the group.”
That made sense.
The club and all the wives and kids and such, that was a family to Cary. It was important that I stopped avoiding them, and got to know them instead.
I mean, everyone I’d already met had been nothing but nice and understanding.
“Okay. Let’s do it,” I decided. “Now,” I added as I sat up.
“Give a man a minute to recover,” he grumbled.
“Nope. I am going stir crazy here. Let’s get a move on,” I told him, already getting up to collect my clothes off the ground and climb back in them.
With a loud grumble, Cary got off the bed, grabbing his clothes, and making his way toward the bathroom as I started to tidy up the room, putting our clothes in our bags, moving all the garbage to the pail, then sitting and waiting for Cary.
I could hear him on the phone, saying something about bringing the SUV, then something else that was too low to make out.
“In a rush now, are you?” he asked when he reemerged from the bathroom, giving me a soft smile when he saw the bags lined up and ready to go.
“Alright, this is a couple trips,” he said, rolling his neck. “You hang tight, and I’ll be right back.”
“Okey doke,” I agreed, making my way back over toward the view that suddenly looked a lot brighter and prettier now that I knew it wasn’t the only thing I was going to get to see, day in and day out.
