I let my cut slip off my shoulders, catching it as it fell to my hands and turning to hang it on the back of Chelsea’s door. We took pride in our club colors. It showed everyone who we were. When you wore your colors you wore them with your head held fucking high because you weren’t only representing yourself, you were representing your club—your family. What you did come back on all of us, so you better be ready to back your actions the fuck up to your brothers. You never handed your cut over to anyone, you washed it, you stood and watched over someone’s shoulder as they sewed on your patches. You protected it with your life. Because that’s exactly what it was.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, Blackbird,” I told her, pulling at the neck of my shirt and dragging it over my head and tossing it into the corner of the room. She rolled her eyes, but her eyes soon came back to me, scanning my body. I had my fair share of tattoos that ran down my arms and across my upper chest. I also had the club emblem in a full back tattoo, much like many of my brothers. Those of us that chose to have it done knew that the club would be in our lives forever, there was no leaving and there was no backing out. I would live and die a brother. That was a fact.
I knew Chelsea loved to trace my tattoos. Sometimes I’d wake up to find her fingers dragging lazily across my back or my arms. I never told her, but I fucking loved it.
“You just gonna stand there?” she asked, her voice soft but full of anticipation.
“You’re the one fucking me with your eyes from all the way over there. Was just letting you have a good look,” I told her, holding my arms wide. “Would you like me to do a spin or something?”
She smirked. “Could you drop your pants first? Your ass is amazing, but those jeans just don’t do it justice.”
I laughed and took three steps to the bed. I reached out and grabbed her ankle and she giggled as I pulled on it, dragging her to the edge of the bed. I stood between her legs and leaned forward, placing my hands on either side of her shoulders. I brushed my nose against hers and she lifted her head, forcing her lips against mine.
If I had to choose a favorite smell or taste, it would be her. Even in the mornings when most people have the most God awful morning breath, she always tasted amazing. I didn’t know how or why and I didn’t care. I forced her back on the bed, my tongue delving into her mouth and dueling against hers. It was never a fight for power with her, it was more playful than anything. Chelsea always gave in to me.
“Missed this mouth, baby,” I mumbled against her lips.
“This mouth or just a mouth in general?” she asked, licking at my lips and attempting to draw me in again.
“This mouth,” I whispered, taking her lip between my teeth and pulling at it. “Always this fucking mouth.”
I felt her hands reach for my jeans, unbuckling my belt and fighting with the buttons. I usually liked to take control. Make her wait and squirm as I ordered her about. It was sexy as hell seeing her give her power to me and trust me to make her feel good.
Chelsea could be a spitfire, no doubt growing up the way she did she had to deal with more than her fair share of overbearing assholes and people trying to tell her what to do. You wouldn’t think the club life would suit her, that she would rebel against the rules, but we had given her so much more. Here she had people who cared about her. She might be pussy, but she was part of our family and nobody fucked with our family. Right now, all I wanted to do was to force her to her knees and fuck her pretty little mouth. But another part of me told me to let her take the lead.
“I want your cock,” she whimpered, pulling her lips from mine.
I pushed off the bed and stood straight. She quickly pulled herself to sit at the edge and looked up at me expectantly.
I smirked. “Have at it, baby. You want it? Take it.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. I wasn’t giving her control, but I was letting her lead. She wasted no time in dropping my pants to the floor and wrapping her delicate hands around my cock. I groaned, the instant she touched me it was like coming home. She knew, even without my prompting or orders, exactly what I needed and how to please me. She fisted me with both hands, pulling at my length as her tongue flicked out and tickled the end.
“Fuck,” I moaned.
“I heard something today,” she said faintly, continuing to jack me off. “I heard you took Lou Lou to your room but wouldn’t fuck her.” She dipped her head and took one of my balls into her mouth. My whole body clenched and my hands wrapped themselves in her hair.
“You got a point to make, babe?” I grunted.
She let go with a pop before doing the same thing with the other. “Why?”
She let her hands drop and took me in her mouth, her head bobbing up and down, occasionally forcing as much of me down her throat as possible and causing me to grind my teeth. “You using this as some weird torture technique to get me to tell you my secrets?”
She laughed softly. “Is it working?”
I held her head and thrust my dick in and out of her mouth. “I would have kept a lot more secrets if I knew this was how you planned to get them outta me.”
Saliva dripped from the side of her mouth as she gagged and I held her there for a second more before releasing my grip and letting her pull back. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and climbed to her feet.
“You didn’t fuck her,” she stated, pulling her shirt over her head and shimmying out of her skin tight jeans.
I walked around her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t long before she followed, climbing into my lap and straddling my legs. I could feel the heat radiating off her pussy and I had to stop myself from driving my cock straight up into her. Her tits sat right in my face, begging for me to pull one into my mouth.
“You didn’t fuck her?” she repeated, her wetness still hovering.
“She wasn’t you,” I growled, frustrated.
She instantly dropped herself, her pussy swallowing my dick whole and causing us both to cry out. We both stayed there for a minute, breathing hard and staring directly into each other’s eyes. Slowly she began to move, lifting herself and grinding on me. It felt incredible, but I wanted more and I know she did too.
“My turn.” I hooked my arms under her legs and stood up. I dropped her back on the bed and fell right on top of her, my penis never leaving the nice wet cave it had found. I’d given her time to have her fun. Sometimes it was fun to see what she’d come up with when given the opportunity to show me what she liked. But the reality was, we worked because we knew what we liked. And the one thing that would take her over the edge, every single time, was when I did what I knew best.
I braced myself over her. “Take those nipples in your fingers, Chelsea. I want to see you pull them.” She did it instantly, closing her eyes and throwing her head back as it gave her that little bit of extra pleasure.
“Good girl. You know I’m gonna make you feel good, don’t you.”
She nodded. “Please. More Op.”
I slammed back into her, her breathing increasing with every powerful thrust. I threw her legs over my shoulders and bent her in a way that you’d think would hurt, but that gave me access to that little button inside her.
“Oh! Op!”
Hitting it over and over, pistoning my hips, I rested my forehead against hers. A sticky sheen of sweat between them. I could feel her body tightening in anticipation. She was ready to explode like fireworks on the Fourth of July. The feeling was mutual, but I was trying my best to hold off. I wasn’t done with her yet. I sat back and used my hand to rub at her clit as I slowed down, but it was more than enough. Her walls clenched around me and I had to pull out before I erupted inside her before I’d had my fill.