Summer Pain (9 page)

Again, he returned to her cunt, spreading her still wider. He tucked his hands under her bottom and drew her pussy to his lips. This time, he thrust inside her with a deep commitment, one dedicated to a certain cause, a finish he would see all the way through to the very satisfying end.

Her hips shot off the bed as his tongue fluttered inside her channel. He slapped her mound with repetitive strikes. And each time his palm fell against her, her pussy clenched around his tongue.

He hummed against her opening, moving his head from side to side. “Let go, sub. Enjoy. Feel.”

“I’m close, Tigger,” she whimpered, writhing under him.

And just when she thought she might explode around his tongue, he backed away from the bed and slowly, nearly diabolically, undressed, leaving her to quiver under his scrutiny. More than anything else, she anticipated the delicious finish that would inevitably tie her to him forever.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” he promised.

Palming his thick erection, he jerked his cock through his large hand, working the flesh up and down as he pulled and released, giving himself an aggressive and thoroughly calculated hand job.

She licked her lips and moaned aloud as she lay there, watching him watch her. She stretched her neck and opened her mouth, hoping he would fill her with his size, let her taste him. She longed to suck his dick, feel him slipping and sliding across her tongue as she brought him to release.

“Do you want me to fuck that pretty mouth, vixen?”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, nearly breathless. “Give me permission to suck your dick. I want to give you head.”

“Keep talking like that, sub, and I swear I’ll fuck you into the next year.”

“I hope so.”

Grabbing a few pillows, he propped her head up so he could position himself at an angle over her. Then, he threw one leg over her middle and towered over her at a slanted position, gripping the headboard with both hands.

“Show me how you like to suck my cock, sub.”

Excited and yet nervous, because she didn’t want to disappoint him, she licked the end, paying close attention to the small opening at the top of his cockhead. She flattened her tongue across the peak, dragging her tongue ever so slowly back and forth, back and forth.

Then, she went lower, sipping him between her lips, inch by agonizing inch.

His body tightened. His cock stiffened. Everything about him went rigid before he flexed those carved muscles still tighter. Then, he thrust inside her mouth like he wasn’t a man to be rushed, a man who would let his woman dictate when he finished.

Twisting his lower body, Tigger fucked her mouth, drawing all the way back before sinking in again. He repeated the torturous moves over and over again.

Summer slurped the swollen head. She tightened her cheeks around his size, and tried her best to keep him tapping against her throat, but he was stronger, more practiced, and possessed far more self-control than any other man she’d ever known.

Looping her tongue around the crest, she hummed against his length, wishing he would sink deeper. She needed him to fuck harder, pound inside her mouth until there was no question of how he’d later claim her pussy.

“Please, Sir, come.”

He withdrew, entered again, and left her mouth once more. “That would be too easy, vixen.”

“Yes,” she whispered against the crest, watching in awe as a speckle of excitement drizzled across the mushroom-shaped head.

She rubbed her lips across his tip and savored his taste, nuzzling him as she cupped his balls and traced the well-defined veins pulsing with his release. “Make love to me, Tigger.”

And for a second, just a fleeting moment, he stopped moving against her lips. He looked at her as if he were utterly confused by what she’d requested.

Then, he backed away from the bed, grabbed a condom from his bag and handed the ripped foil packet to her. “Sounds like a hell of an idea, sub.”

She took the rubber from his hand and sheathed him. Working her hand up and down, she made certain the fit was secure. Then she came to her knees, bracketed her arms around his neck and let him lead their kiss as he brought her body over his.

She would be the death of him or the only reason he’d ever have for living.

As Tigger watched her straddle him, he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so completely turned on by a woman’s body, by her very existence. Fuck, he was going to shoot off like a rocket once he got his prick inside her, and he knew it wouldn’t take but a minute.

She had just started to lower herself over him when he stopped her. He reached under her and felt the head of the cold stone brushing against the back of his hand. He discarded the object, unwilling to share space with a damn toy the first time he took her.

There would be times when he’d take her with her ass plugged, but not today. Oh no, today, he couldn’t bear the thought of filling her with anything more than his cock and fingers.

Pushing his fingers deep inside her cunt, he twirled them through her heated channel. His cock brushed against her mound as she rode his hand, squeezing the digits as she pumped up and down. Her body undulated, and her movements changed in the blink of an eye.

“Close, I’m so close, Tigger.”

“Come for me,” he ordered her. “Now, vixen.”

“No, Sir.” She shook her head vehemently. “I want to feel your cock inside me when I come.”

He stilled. Debating whether or not he should punish her for defying him, he eyed the beauty before him.

His nipples became as hard as discs as her words enticed more than antagonized the Dom within. And as if there wasn’t another moment to waste, he withdrew his fingers, placed them against her lips and entered her with one hard thrust.

“Tigger,” she gasped, her legs spreading wider as he quickly pumped his cock inside her wet pussy.

“Dear God, you feel fucking amazing.” He quickened his strokes as he held onto her waist. Pushing her down against him, he ground his cock deeper inside her, reaching for and finding that very special, intimate spot.

She rode him without reservations. Her body moved back and forth as he hammered harder, pounding her sweet pussy with deeper strokes. Her palms flattened against his chest, and her head bowed, a wave of her golden hair falling in her face as she ground against him, squeezing his cock with her internal muscles until she pulsed around him with a multitude of vibrating sensations.

Grabbing a handful of hair, he held her face mere inches from his. “Scream for me, sub.”

“Tigger,” she whispered.

“Louder,” he demanded, throwing the weight of his cock forward and pumping his hips faster and faster, his body moving away from the bed as he threw one arm behind his back and drove his cock forward.

“Tigger!”

“Louder, damn you!” he screamed, the tight squeeze of her convulsing pussy damn near destroying him as he came.

Her body writhed. The bed shook.

“Don’t move, sub. Damn you! Don’t move.” He bent his knees, flattened his feet against the mattress and bucked underneath her as her body was thrown from one side to the other.

“Oh! Oh! Tigger!” She screamed his name again and again as her small frame rocked to and fro, left to right. Finally, after what must’ve been the longest and most satisfying orgasm of his life, she collapsed on top of him. And, love her heart, her sweet cunt kept vibrating around him until he was completely spent and utterly exhausted from the best loving of his life.

Chapter Thirteen

Victory and Devon were in the kitchen when Sassy and Logan entered the next morning. After Logan’s meeting with Mark, he’d returned to the clubhouse and told Sassy to be prepared to leave on a moment’s notice.

He wasn’t sure what to expect, and with Gaylord bound and determined to fuck up everything, he was pretty sure the operation would soon come to an abrupt end. The state had spent too much money, and the big scores they’d hoped to achieve were few and far between. To date, Logan had twenty arrests to his credit versus Gaylord’s two. Considering Gaylord had been in place for nearly twenty years, there wasn’t any excuse.

Except one.

He’d been led astray long before he’d taken the gavel, and now that he controlled the largest group of one-percenters in the country, there was even more reason for the light of suspicion to burn brightly upon the Devil’s Angels. Under Gaylord’s direction, the Devil’s Angels had become one of the most profitable MC charters in the world.

And the Feds had sent a rookie in an effort to determine which of their agents had gone rogue? If Logan’s gut instincts were right, the FBI had seriously screwed up when they left Mark Sampson in place as the handler. Heads would eventually roll when the truth all came to the fore. Heads that should’ve tumbled long before now.

“Victory needs to talk to you,” Devon informed him.

Sassy scooted closer. She left one hand on his thigh, digging her fingernails into his snug denim as if she thought this might be their last breakfast at the club.

“What’s up?” Logan asked, downplaying his interest.

Sassy shot him a sideways glance and took a bite of her Danish. Her hand never moved. Her fingers never stopped twitching. She was a nervous wreck, and he wondered if the other two had picked up on her angst.

“A year before I moved in here, I went to see Damsel in prison.”

“Why would you do that?” Sassy asked, always sensitive when the discussion on the table was about the stepfather who’d abused her.

“At the time, I told myself I wanted closure,” Victory explained. “Later, after I thought about it, I think the real reason I went there was to show him I had survived life without him.”

Sassy shrugged. “He had to have known you’d moved on. Everyone knew about you and Gaylord.”

Victory thinned her lips. Gaylord had always been one topic Victory refused to discuss. Few broached the sensitive subject in her presence.

“Anyway.” Victory cleared her throat. “I went to see Damsel, and our visit was pretty much uneventful with one exception.”

“What’s that?” Logan realized this conversation had something to do with him, or perhaps Sassy.

“He wanted me to tell Gaylord you were a cop.”

“I’m not surprised.” Logan watched Devon for a reaction.

Sassy’s nails dug into his thigh again. “So why didn’t you come to Logan and tell him?”

“I was trying to save myself at the time, but like I told Devon last night, this isn’t the first time Gaylord has fallen back on something Damsel has told him. I’m sure Damsel finally sent out his message to the Angels. Gaylord probably received word long before yesterday that you were a cop, Logan, but there must be a reason why he’s just now playing his high card.”

Devon jabbed his fork at Logan. “And I figured it out.”

Logan held his breath.

“He must’ve found out you were prying,” Devon explained around a mouthful of food. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

He took a gulp of orange juice, shoved another sausage ball between his lips and continued, “Whoever is giving you your information has gotta be playing two sides against the middle. Think about this, Logan. Why now?”

“I have thought about it,” Logan admitted. “Someone is cashing in on both sides. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Devon was definitely on to something. What he didn’t know was how accurate his suspicions were. They were practically right on the money.

Victory took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you—any of you—before now.”

“And I’ll ask you again. Why didn’t you?” Sassy’s confidence was clearly restored. She rose from the table to carry her dirty dishes to the sink but not before shooting Victory a condescending glare.

“I told Damsel he was willing to do anything to hurt Logan because Logan had you, and you were living at the Heroes and Rogues clubhouse.”

“Do you really think he would go as far to make up some sort of lie about Logan being a cop because he doesn’t like the fact that I’m living here at the clubhouse?” Sassy asked.

Victory nodded. “Yes, I do. I think it was killing him. It was bad enough you were in bed with his enemy, but to know you went as far as returning to the lifestyle he’d introduced to you was more than he could bear. There was only one way he could get you out. He made up the story about Logan and tried to put a bug in Gaylord’s ear.”

“And it almost worked,” Logan reminded her. “I could’ve been killed. Sassy could’ve been hurt.”

“But you weren’t,” Devon reminded him. “And I give you my word, Logan. My word. I’ll never doubt you again.”

“Your word is good enough for me.” Logan felt a victorious surge of relief shoot through his veins as he eyed the man who had just assured him of his complete trust.

Now, he only had one real problem left. And it was a doozy. If Summer had confided in Tigger, and if Tigger believed her—and he undoubtedly would if she let the cat out of the bag, because she would be able to show proof—then he and Sassy still wouldn’t be safe here.

Documented facts would always outweigh any promise a full-patch member made to another. If Tigger came back to the clubhouse with proof Logan was a Fed, then he and Sassy would have no other choice but to run.

Logan wasn’t ready to go. A gnawing question bothered him, one he’d often feared he might be forced to answer. What was he willing to do if the truth was revealed? Who was he willing to hurt? What measures would he take to protect his cover?

He shot Sassy a knowing look and said, “Well, this time Damsel didn’t win.”

“Which reminds me,” Victory paused and elbowed Devon in the ribs. “You didn’t extend that invitation.”

Devon frowned.

“What invitation?”

“You won’t like it, Logan,” Devon told him, twisting his mouth. “But here it is all the same.” He took a deep breath. “Sassy, if for any reason, you and Logan don’t work out…if you breakup or he leaves, or whatever…you always have a place here. We want you to know that.”

Victory looked absolutely satisfied as she reached across the table and took Sassy by the hand. “You belong here with us. You’re a part of our family.”