Overdosed: Fury's Storm MC (36 page)

I slipped my finger between her lips, finding her button. She gasped, then moved faster. I was barely touching her, just rubbing the very tip of my finger over so fast my hand was a blur. She started moaning louder, then louder again. I felt her tighten around me, heard her scream. Felt her shudder, flinging her head back onto my shoulder. I kept touching her, kept thrusting upward, kept playing with her tits. I knew if I kept the stimulation going, she would come again and again.

As soon as she came down from that high, I slid out of her. Now I got on my back, picking her up and lowering her over me. I could do almost anything to her, she was so light compared to my thick build. That feeling of power was a high I couldn’t ignore.

I skewered her again, and she almost screamed. Now I took her hips in my hands and slammed her onto me, faster and faster, almost brutally. I wanted to take her hard, make her beg me to stop because she couldn’t stand the pleasure anymore. Her tits bounced so hard and fast she had to hold them still, which was even hotter.

“Yeah…play with them…” I ordered between grunts as I fucked her. I watched her play with her nipples, her eyes closed, her mouth open. There was a constant flow of moaning coming out of her mouth by that time, getting louder the faster I pumped her up and down. Her voice got higher until she was almost squeaking by the time she came again with a loud scream.

“
Fuck!
” She was totally lost, in some blissed-out place. I moved her more slowly while she got over it. She fell on top of me, and I let her stay there while I continued rocking her up and down on my cock.

“Oh, my God…” she moaned. “What are you doing to me?”

“What do you think?” I asked, laughing to myself as she whimpered. I was taking her. I was making her mine. She would only want me now. Any other man would have to live up to me, and he would fall short. I would be her every fantasy, every wet dream.

The thought had me burning, and I punished her by thrusting up into her as I pumped her up and down. She was stretch out over me, moaning endlessly, begging for more. I thought I felt her twitching again, but she was crying out almost constantly so I couldn’t be sure. I kept fucking her, wearing her down, wanting to give her as much as she could take.

Finally, I rolled over until I was on top of her, then drove my hips down into her hard, fast, sharp. She whimpered louder and louder, and I held on for her. I wanted her to come one more time.

“Do it for me. Let me feel you again,” I grunted. “Let me feel you come on me.”

“Oh…God!” She shrieked, legs and arms gripping me as tight as the walls around my cock. That was all I needed, and I roared when I came. She was mine. Completely mine. I slid out and rolled over, totally spent. Every once in a while, Kat would whimper, and every whimper made me feel proud.

When it was all over, and I started thinking straight again, I asked myself what I’d just done. The last thing I needed was to get involved with her, or anybody. But especially not her. Not when she was hanging around, making trouble for us. I should have gotten here, scared the shit out of her, and left.

But no. I fucked her instead. Good move.

When she smiled up at me, though, with the moonlight coming through her bedroom window, it didn’t seem so bad. It felt right, really. Better than anything I’d felt before. It wasn’t just physical, and it wasn’t like I was in love with her. It was just…nice. I wasn’t used to things being nice, especially when it came to sex. Nice was the last thing on my mind when I was having sex.

“Are you all right?” she asked, looking at me with that innocent smile. She rolled onto her side, facing me. She started running her hand over my arm, my leg, my ass.

I felt myself getting hard again. Damn, there was something about her that did something to me.

I pulled her close to me, then rolled her onto her back and climbed between her legs.

“I’m just fine,” I whispered before we started again.

Kat

When I woke up, I wondered if I’d be able to get out of bed. I finally understood what it meant to feel like a Mack truck ran me over. I was exhausted.

But it was the best type of exhaustion I’d ever felt. A happy, wrung-out, relaxed exhaustion. The exhaustion of a night and morning full of sex, better than any I could have imagined.

I’d seen good sex in movies, or at least, what I’d assumed to be good sex. Screaming and writhing around, mouth open, eyes closed. And always the nails running down the back of whoever was doing the thrusting.

It wasn’t that sex had been bad or boring for me before Gabriel. In fact, it had been good. I knew what made my body tick—at least, I’d thought I did. One night with Gabriel had been like a master class in what my body was capable of. It was like going from a string quartet to a full-blown symphony orchestra. There was more of everything. It was deeper, richer. It felt better. I screamed, and not because I thought he’d like it or thought I was supposed to. I just had to scream to let out some of what I was feeling. Intense didn’t describe it.

I’d lost count of the number of times we’d done it, too. He was unstoppable. I would barely recover before he was on me again—but I was never too tired to jump to response. That was another surprise, how I was always ready for more, no matter how exhausted I felt. Just when I thought I would die if we didn’t stop because I couldn’t take another orgasm, he’d touch me a certain way and my body would accept the challenge.

We fell asleep right after our last marathon session. Sunlight had been coming through the curtains when my eyes slid shut. Now we were tangled up together in a mess of sheets, arms and legs. My head was on his shoulder, my hand on his chest. I could feel his heartbeat against my palm.

I opened my eyes slowly, not wanting to break the spell over us. I knew without looking that Gabriel was still asleep. His breathing was slow and even. I couldn’t resist craning my neck a bit so I could look at his face, and when I did he took my breath away. He looked so peaceful and sweet, like an angel. I knew it was an illusion—the man was anything but an angel. Maybe a dark angel, if anything. But in sleep, he looked innocent. I wondered at the sort of person he was before he joined the club. Who would he have been had he taken another path?

This sort of thing fascinated me. I used to wonder all the time how my life would have turned out if my father had been a stand-up guy. If he had stuck around for Sabrina and me and our mother, how different would things be? If I had been able to live like a normal teenager, what would have happened? I did a lot of this sort of thinking when I was a kid, watching my friends go off to live their lives like normal kids did. In darker moments, when I was the most frustrated, I would imagine an amazing life. Boyfriends, parties, the prom. I would be accepted into a great college and join a sorority and meet a rich boy, and we’d get married and live happily ever after. Sabrina was never a part of these fantasies.

Those fantasies faded the older I became, but I never stopped wondering about the choices our lives hinged on. The smallest choices could have such massive impact. What would I have become if I’d stopped practicing piano and violin? They were both a huge part of my life, but if I had rebelled as a kid and decided riding my bike was more important than working on my scales, I wouldn’t earn money as a performer. If I’d never taken a chance and agreed to play during a friend’s gig when their keyboardist got sick, I wouldn’t have discovered how much I love to perform live.

If Dad hadn’t left, maybe Sabrina wouldn’t have Daddy issues and wouldn’t have gotten involved with the club.

I felt cold all over when that nasty thought worked its way out from my subconscious. I’d been trying to bury it, but there was no getting around it. What if Sabrina hadn’t felt that pull toward the club? Where would she be right now? At home? Working? Living her life?

It was as though Gabriel heard my thoughts because one of his arms tightened around me. He comforted me even as he slept. I let myself sink into his embrace, my head on his shoulder again.

I realized I was happy. It was foreign, something I hadn’t felt in ages. Not since before Sabrina disappeared.

At first, I felt guilty. Was it all right for me to feel happy right now? Shouldn’t I be miserable? Worried? I didn’t know what she was going through, but if she was still alive, she had to be in some uncomfortable situation. Hurt, alone, scared. Did I deserve this happiness? It felt like I was betraying her.

The betrayal felt even worse when I thought about whose arms I was in. It couldn’t have been just any guy, could it? No. It had to be him. I was still almost sure he knew something he didn’t want to tell me. Of all people, I’d fallen into bed with Gabriel.

It was meant to be, though. Wasn’t it? From the moment he kissed me, I knew there was something more to him. He lit a fire inside me, and it glowed warmly as I rested my head on his strong shoulder.

I wondered what his life was like outside of his nights at the bar with the club. And whatever business he did, of course. I didn’t want to think about that now, not while we were in bed together. Or ever.

He moved in his sleep, and I ran my hand over his chest. I loved the way he felt, so firm and strong. Like he could do whatever he wanted to me. I knew he could easily have overpowered me, but he was never too rough. I wasn’t afraid of him. He turned me on.

He shifted again, this time rolling onto his side. I rolled away, so my back was against his front. He pulled me close to him, pressing himself into my backside. He was semi-hard, and just the pressure from it sent a warm feeling between my legs.

I wriggled against him, rolling my hips in a circle. He sighed in my ear, and I felt him growing harder. I did it again, grinding up on his manhood. Remembering what he did to me with that thick length got me wet and ready for him again. I moved again, and this time, he moved with me.

He grunted in my ear, his hand moving over my breasts to stroke and fondle them. I gasped, melting into him. He already knew just how to touch me, setting me on fire with the slightest caress. I couldn’t believe how quickly he made me burn from head to toe. My skin tingled wherever his fingers made contact.

Now he flicked my nipples with his fingers while he rubbed his erection against my butt. I moaned, rocking my hips back and forth to increase the friction between us. His hand moved lower, stroking my legs. I opened them, giving him access to all of me.

When his fingers made contact with my folds, I arched my back and cried out. His mouth latched onto my neck, licking and sucking there while he fingered me. I cried out, begging for more, already so close to the edge. Just hearing him breathing heavily against me, feeling how hot and hard he was behind me while he worked me with his hand, was hotter than anything I’d known before. I tensed against him, screaming as quietly as I could while I came. He fought for breath as I came down from that first burst of bliss, leaning against him as I panted for breath.

He was still moving, rubbing against me, stroking my lips. I sighed and opened my legs wider, allowing him to slide between my legs and into my wet heat. I cried out again when I felt him enter me, his thickness filling me. When he started to move, I nearly came for a second time almost instantly. But he took his time, controlling my pleasure, knowing it would be better the longer it lasted. I gave control to him gladly, letting him rock my body. He knew just what to do to make me come like I never had.

He held my hip, pulling me toward him in time with his thrusts. I thrusted downward, meeting his movements with my own. The angle was heaven, allowing him to fill every inch of me while his hand roamed over my body. He wasn’t in any hurry, slowing screwing my brains out.

He pulled my head back, running his hand from my throat to my breasts, then back up. Possessing me. I was his. He slapped my butt once, twice. I cried out, moving faster against him. It was unlike me, but this was all unlike me. Getting hotter because he spanked me…who was he turning me into?

Before I knew it, I was crying out, one arm behind me to grip Gabriel’s neck as he sucked on anything his mouth could reach. I turned my head to meet his mouth with mine, and when I came again, my screams were muffled by his kiss. Then he thrusted once, twice more before stiffening and falling against me.

Holy hell
, I thought as I gasped for breath. After the marathon we went through the night before, I would never have imagined being able to do it again like that. He was like a machine.

As much as I didn’t want to think along the lines of the future, I couldn’t help wondering where this left us. Where did he want his to go? After the sex we had, I knew I didn’t want to let him out of my life so easily. But I very much got the impression that he wasn’t the relationship type. I didn’t want to scare him off.

I shook myself mentally, wondering when I’d started thinking this way about this man. I couldn’t shake the feeling this was a bad idea.