mean? It means that if my brothers need information they call on me
to get it out of you. You should see the art I can create with a blow
torch or a serrated blade or my favorite, barbed wire. I have been
known to have a cold fearless heart. To stand in the middle of a gun
fight without a care in the world, tear flesh from bodies and not
even blink when my mark would scream and cry. Nothing reached me, I
was numb to the world. Chaos was my meditation. That was until I met
Keeley. Now one small piece of false information, one wrong victim
and one war later she is completely under my skin.
profusely. If I would have known at that precise moment my world
would turn on its head I would have never let him in. I left my home
to get away from the violence and the wars yet here I am back in a
world I don’t want to be in. I would run but no one excites me like
Dillon does, no one protects me like Dillon does, and no one makes me
scream in pleasure like him either. As hard as his life is and even
with my own life in danger there is no where I would rather be than
in his arms, I am his.
“Keeley, stop. I don’t kiss. It doesn’t do anything for me.” I spoke but for some reason the words sounded soft, with not much conviction.
“I don’t think anyone has shown you tender before Dillon, can I just try?” She whispered.
I had kissed a few women in my past and it was always spit and biting. It was nothing I liked, just a smushing of faces. I never saw the point.
She pressed her body to mine. On her tip toe, she was nearly as tall as I was. She ran her hands up my neck and into my hair. She was gentle, so gentle. She stared into my eyes and I stared right back into hers. There was something in them that I had never seen in any of the bunnies. I couldn’t place it.
She pulled me down slightly and kissed me softly on the cheek right at the corner of my lips, her lips felt like feathers on my face, plump and soft. She brushed her face with mine, her nose barely skimming mine as she moved to the other side of my face where she placed another kiss, equally soft. Her hands were still knitted in my hair but there was no tension, she was just holding on to me, breathing me in. I looked at her face and saw the want, the flush of her cheeks as she hesitated coming towards my lips. I felt her breast rubbing on my chest with each one of her breaths, slow and steady. This wasn’t my usual because she was worshiping me. She wanted me to feel what she was feeling and for the first time I really was.
She kissed me just as lightly, on my mouth this time. At first, I didn’t even react, just let the contact sear itself onto my brain. She did it once more, and everything in my body woke up. I had to touch this woman. I had to kiss her. I wanted her more than anything but I couldn’t get my body to move. I was stuck.
“Do it again,” I said. The gruff growl that left my mouth caused her to inhale and rise back up on her good foot, kissing me on my mouth, just a bit harder this time.
My arms wound around her waist and I kissed her back once. Then again and again. She was so sweet; the air around me sparked and crackled like it was on fire. I had never felt anything like this before and I wanted more of it. Immediately.
I could feel her one leg begin to tremble, so I picked her up and wrapped her legs around my waist, her sweet spot was hot and damp, hovering just above my cock. I would do anything to rip off the little pajama bottoms that she had on so that I could bury myself in her but I couldn’t get carried away. I couldn’t.
“What the fuck is this?” I groaned out as I kissed her again. The taste of her mouth set my whole body on fire. I just couldn’t get enough. Before long she was clawing at my shirt and I had her pinned up against the wall as she ground herself down on my dick. She wanted me bad, and I wanted her. I was getting to the point of no return. If I didn’t stop this soon, I would be buried to the hilt in her honey pot.
She arched her back slightly but the movement caused her to slide down directly onto the head of my dick. The heat, the wetness and the fact that I was on at least a three week dry spell had me groaning out, tensing up like I was going to bust my load in my pants like a fucking teenager.
brothers need me to take down, I will. I am a magician with a fire
arm no matter the class, from the small and simple Glock 36 to the
powerful .44 Magnum, the big bad shotgun to the sleek and sexy M2010.
I have been known to be stoic and calculated. To lay above the rest
and smile as each bullet sailed through my target. Once you were in
my sights, you go down for the long nap. I used to believe that my
fate was sealed by the bullet and my gun, come to find out my life
would be turned on its head by Daria. A woman in the wrong place at
the wrong time. A woman who is seared into my soul.
a burden to those around me. So when my roommates strong arm me into
going to a party at the Rolling Cobras MC Club house I try to stay as
far away from the action as possible. Not that it did me any good, my
favorite shirt was ruined, I got hit on by a man missing his two
front teeth, oh and I got shot in the chest. Talk about a party.
There was one good thing that came from that horrible experience, the
hospital set up a trauma counselor, Archer. There is something about
his haunted eyes that makes me believe that I can trust again. No one
makes my pulse race like he does, makes my body surrender like he
does. Even with secrets all around him I have no choice but to submit
I reached behind the bar and picked up the first bottle that I could grab, a bottle of Jack Daniels that was 3 quarters of the way full. This would have to do. I looked around one more time to the women and my brothers all having a grand time. They were laughing, random women were being felt up on, drinks were being spilled. I was so fucking tired of everyone laughing, don’t they know how screwed up life was at this moment? I guess it paid to be ignorant.
I shook off my thoughts as best as I could and made my way up to my room. I opened the door and Cherry was already lying on my bed, her purse in my chair, the content’s half spilled out, her shoes off and strewn across the floor.
I hate slobs, shit should go where it belongs not just where it can be thrown. I walked toward her and looked her over. I picked up her hands and analyzed them, her nails were real. This would work.
“Oh, I am so ready for you.” Cherry purred as she stood and made her way over to me. She used her fingers to trail a line over my biceps. Her touch did nothing to cut through the numb. I took my Kutte off and hung it up on the hook on the door. Where it belonged. She followed me, fondling my ass and lifting my shirt to reach my abs.
I keep myself in pristine shape. Thanks to my time in the military, I have the body of a machine and enjoy the upkeep. I never really cared that I was a prize to look at by the women, I kept in shape so that I could beat the shit out of anyone who decided that they wanted to test me. I was a marksman but I guarantee there wasn’t anyone who wanted to meet toe to toe with me in a hand to hand dispute.
She stood on her tippy toes trying to get to my mouth, leaving soft kisses on my neck and caressing my body. This shit was pissing me off, I already told her I am not with the gentle shit today. I grabbed her by her hair and yanked hard enough to catch her off guard.
“Cherry, I am going to tell you one more time. If you are not ready to play rough, you don’t need to be fucking with me tonight.”
“No, I am read…”
“Don’t fucking interrupt me!” I growled out causing her to jump. I was on the edge. “This shit isn’t for me to feel good, and I am not doing it for you either. I need to release, it’s not going to be pretty with massages and shit.”
She nodded her head once as best she could while I was still holding her hair in my hand.
“I want your complete submission, so if you are staying know that you are mine to do with as I wish, for as long as I wish. Are you game?”
I could see the mischief bubbling up in her eyes, she thought that she could break me. I could have laughed if I wasn’t so ready to get this started already. She nodded once again.
“Good,” I released her hair and grabbed her tightly by the back of her neck, hard enough for her to tense a bit. “You will scream, you will cum, you will think that you can’t take anymore but I will be the one to end this. If you say stop at any time, you are to get off my dick and get the fuck out of my room, no talking, no turning around, no touching, nothing, ever again. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I get it.” She tried to reach up with her hands and grab my head. I slapped her hands away. I yanked on the thick strap on her shoulder that was keeping her little leather outfit on. The force left a small red mark.
“Take this shit off.”
She stripped in seconds, not making a show out of it.
“Play with your tits.”
She rubbed them.
“Harder!” I was already out of my clothes, all that was left was my boxer briefs. Every muscle in my body was tense. I could feel my dick getting heavier, harder and thicker.
I walked back over towards her, she wasn’t squeezing them hard enough. Not hard enough for me. I wanted to see the blood color her skin. I used my hand to grab fistfuls of her flesh, letting my rough skin scrape against her softness. I used my forefinger and my thumb to squeeze her nipple hard enough to make her hiss and try to back away. I switched between grabbing her whole breast to focusing on just her nipple. Just as she got used to this sensation. I used my other hand to rub on her clit, the
new sensation caused her to moan out. I squeezed her nipple hard. I wanted her to know that pain could be pleasure and that was what she was going to get today. I felt her body tighten up, I knew she was ready to cum.
“Mmm, oh yes. Archer keep going.” She rolled her head back ready for the fall. I took that as my chance to introduce a new feeling. Right as her breath caught in her throat to signal the beginnings of her climax I lowered my head to the fleshy part of her breast and I bit her. Hard. She screamed out, half in pain, half in pleasure. I rubbed her pussy faster wanting to draw it out. She tried to push me away, her body’s instinct to get away from all the sensations.
“Archer, my fucking god!” her body bucked violently, and I held her tightly, using more strength than I probably needed.
I knew the second that she was on the tail end of her climax, time for more. I grabbed her hair again creating a makeshift ponytail. “On your knees.”
“Wait, let me catch…”
“Get on your fucking knees now!” I squeezed her hair tighter, she dropped to her knees. A slight smile on her face. I felt like it was my duty to wipe that shit off her lips, I wanted her to be nothing more than a quivering cumming pile of a woman.
animal activist and an optimist. She has lived her entire life in NYC
and loves to travel with her family. She believes that sweets should
have a larger piece of the nutritional pyramid and that Buffy the
Vampire Slayer was one of the best TV shows ever invented. When she
is not working as a nurse in her community, she can either be found
reading, writing, or taking a walk while listening to music. She has
been writing books in her mind for as long as she can remember but
decided that maybe there were others out in the world that would find
joy in the words she would put down on the page.
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I supposed the first time I really considered myself an author or writer was the first time I considered myself a story teller or better yet a master liar. I am a great liar, I mean the level I can get to on a lie is amazing. I try not to lie, but its not because I am not good at it or because I get caught. It really is more of a moral thing. I know it is wrong and I have always thought of myself as someone who would chose the right thing even when the wrong thing is so much easier.
Most of my stories start off like the beginnings of a true story then I lie myself into a whole novel. At first I almost felt bad at how easy and quickly the stories just popped into my head but then I figured if my brain was wired to create these stories why don’t I do something with the gift I was given, even if no one likes it. I mean you know the old saying, sharing is caring!
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