Fire Meets Fire: Wretched Soulz MC

Chapter 29

She sleeps in my arms as if she’s meant to be there. On my part, I’ve never felt more comfortable in my bed. It’s taken forty-five years for me to find her, but now I know I want this woman in my life, and I’ll do anything to keep her.

But she’s not someone I can chain and control. She has to want to be here.

As her chest rises and falls, I listen to her breath inhaling and exhaling, and start to think of all the ways to convince her she can make a life here. But what the fuck can I offer her?

Eventually, still having found no answer, I join her in slumber.

When I awake, there’s bright light coming in through the chink in the curtains, suggesting we’ve slept through a good part of the day. Consciously I keep my body still, my senses savouring her closeness. Her skin is so soft against my own, and when I breathe in, it’s a scent of her own perfume combined with my soap. Her face is a vision for my eyes, and for a moment I soak it in, worried having her this close could be for the last time.

As she stirs, she rolls over, into me, not away. I’m all too conscious that the natural effects of the morning and her very presence had made my cock swell. I try to twist so it’s not so obvious, but my slight movement makes her open her eyes.

“Good morning,” she says softly, her lips curving into a cautious smile.

“Good morning,” I answer, knowing I want this for the rest of my life.

“What time is it?”

“Who fuckin’ cares?”

She chuckles at my answer. “Always the outlaw.”

“Always,” I confirm.

The tears that had taken me so much by surprise have dried. Instead, there’s a new brightness in her eyes. As she stretches against me, I reluctantly release my hold, giving her space if she wants to get up and leave while my body screams how much I want to clamp her to me.

“I need the bathroom.” Of course, she does. And then she’ll dress, leave… “But I’ll be right back.” Her hand rests on my chest momentarily as if instructing me to wait here.

I’ll wait as long as she fucking needs me to. Forever if necessary. I hardly dare breathe as she leaves the bed. I listen. The walls aren’t thick so I hear a long tinkling, then the flush, then water running as she washes her hands. I’m near dying of asphyxiation when she returns, wondering what she’s going to do next.

What she does surprises me. She strips her tee shirt over her head, baring those admittedly small but luscious tits to me. Then she strips out of her underwear. I feast my eyes for the first time on all her amazing glory, feeling my heart thump so hard it’s about to jump out of my chest.

With a smirk, she yanks the sheet off me. Without speaking, her hands move to the waistband of my boxers, her intention clear. I’m certainly not averse to getting as naked as her.

My hands itch to touch her, but the gleam in her eyes tells me this is her show. I fight to suppress my natural dominance. I’m not going to stop her taking control.

My dick leaks precum just from the look in her eyes as she bends one leg and places it on the bed, following it with the other, then situating herself until she’s kneeling over me, her hands resting on my chest.

“You’ve got a nice cock.”

I snort. “Not sure I’ve been complimented before.” I might have had praise for my performance, but not for its shape. I fist my hands to stop reaching for her, waiting to see what she’s going to do next.

What I don’t expect is for her to bend forward and for her tongue to lick the head of my dick. Nor for her mouth to fully widen and for her lips to enclose my girth.

Fuck, I’ve died and gone to heaven. Or maybe this is some wet dream. Whatever, I don’t want her to stop. I’ve had blow jobs given by all manner of women, those who wanted to warm a president’s bed, or club girls who knew what was expected of them. But never has it felt this good.

And fuck me, but Queenie seems to be enjoying giving me pleasure. I can tell by her expression it’s not something she thinks she should be doing, but something she wants.

She raises her head briefly and chuckles, warm breath huffing over my overheated balls. “You like that, huh?”

“I like,” I manage to stammer out, as again she takes me into that glorious mouth.

I allow her to play, to torture me for less time than I’d like before it becomes all too clear I’m not going to last. And I’m no longer a teenager. When I spill my load, I want it to be in her. As I get far too close to the point of no return, I gasp, “Enough.”

Chuckling again, that vibration alone damn near pushing me over the edge, she releases me, my dick reluctantly dropping out of those lush moist depths with a pop. I take a deep breath and a second to regain control, before my hands rest on her sides, guiding her onto her back.

Her face is full of expectation as our positions are reversed, and I’m determined not to disappoint her. If this is my chance to show her how pleasurable her life will be if she stays, I’m going to take every advantage and use everything in my repertoire.

Of course, I’ve gone down on women before, but her taste? Like no fucking other. Previously it might have just been tit for tat, but as soon as I get her flavour on my tongue, I know I could stay here forever. I try every trick I’ve ever learned, eliciting such sounds from her I know my ears will want to hear that music for ever.

Licking her clit gets her tensing, but in a good way. Her muscles clench, and her thighs squeeze my head, but it’s when I put two fingers inside her and find that special spot she starts to thrash. I continue my assault, winding her up, and then bringing her down before she reaches her climax. She huffs at the denial, but doesn’t beg me to stop, both of us knowing I’m just raising her higher and higher.

She doesn’t scream when she finally goes over, just a loud exhale of my name. My true fucking name. Charlie.

Well, now she’s getting no mercy. I bring her down then bring her up all over again. Her second orgasm is almost as strong as her first, her third a little weaker. Only when she starts to plead for mercy do I raise my head.

“I want you inside me,” she gasps.

There’s nothing I want better, but I tease her. “You want my cock?”

“God, yes.”

“This nice cock?” As I repeat the adjective she’d used, I fist myself, pressing into the root, hoping I’m going to be able to last long enough to satisfy her.

“Your pretty damn amazing cock! In my cunt. Now.”

Her dirty words thrown back at me almost do me in. I waste no time lifting her legs up and over my shoulders then guide myself in.

I’ve had her before, but not like this. It feels different now she’s in my bed. I can let myself go, taking time to find out what arouses her best. I swivel my hips, this way then that, then complete a full roll. I slowly pull out then slam back in, and then again. She bucks against me, a full participant as I repeat my performance.

I want to savour this, want to make it last, but that’s not going to happen. Taking hold of both of her hands and imprisoning them over her head, I feel her muscles contracting, pulsating against my dick. She’s close, and she’s going to take me with her.

“Open your eyes. Look at me,” I demand, determined she’s going to see who’s doing this to her.

She obeys, and the sex-glazed expression of those amazing eyes are all it takes. My cock swells which in turn seems to do something to her. For a second the world’s rotations seem to come to a halt as we both suck in air, then let it out in mutual groans.

Careful not to put my whole weight on her, I slip over onto my side, pulling her with me, my throbbing dick still inside her. While I hate all she’d been through and the reason that I can, I love that I can take her bare, love the feeling of our combined juices running out of her pussy and leaking onto the sheets. I have a fleeting feeling of sorrow knowing my seed will never take root inside her, but understand my grief for what can’t be could never rival her loss. I vow then and there to always be enough for her.

As our heart rates begin to return to normal, and our breathing evens out, words spill out of me that I never thought I’d tell another.

“I love you, Queenie.”

She doesn’t say it right back, but that doesn’t matter. Hopefully I’ve a whole lifetime to convince her.

She snuggles into my arms. “I could stay here all day.”

Chuckling, I agree. “Can’t see anything wrong with that. We’ve nowhere to be.”

Except, it’s then I hear a commotion from downstairs. Loud shouts, angry ones at that. And one of the voices reaching my ears is definitely not from a member of my club.

“You can’t go up there.” That’s Bull’s deep tone.

“Like fuck I can’t. Where the fuck’s Helo? What have you done with her?”

Then come heavy footsteps on the stairs and a banging at my door. “Prez? Think you ought to get down here. Can’t get rid of the fucker unless you want us to shoot him.”

“It’s Harold.” Queenie’s already halfway out of bed.

I, too, had recognised MacPherson’s voice. Quickly, I slide into my pants and, taking out a clean t-shirt for myself, take a second to throw it to her. “Put that on.”

She regards my Wretched Soulz tee and barks a laugh. “Making a point, are you?” But nevertheless, she puts it on, and I waste a moment thinking just how good my shirt looks on her and wondering whether I should let my brothers just shoot the asshole to save us from having to go downstairs.

While I’ve been ruminating, she’s finger-combed her short hair back, so it doesn’t look quite such a mess, but can’t hide the recently fucked look on her face. She shrugs, and grins, and puts on her pants and boots, then takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders.

I hold her back, take time to ravish her lips, then open the door and let her walk down the hallway in front of me. I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t take the opportunity to admire her tight ass.

There, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, is a MacPherson I never thought I’d see. He’s not the broken man who came to beg us to restore his son’s bike at the shop, nor the man who gave in and paid us off so easily. He’s grown a backbone. He’s standing ramrod straight, his eyes blazing as he shrugs off the hold of my sergeant-at-arms. He’s a fucking warrior come to defend one of his own.

I knew I owed him for giving her sanctuary, and in a roundabout way bringing her to me. But it’s now I realise how much he, too, has fallen under her spell. And now he’s here, wanting to protect her.

Kudos to the old man. I realise I want to repay him for all those months he was keeping her safe.

“What the fuck, Helo?” he yells as he spies her. “What the fuck have you been doing?”

Leaning over the banister, I call down to him, “She’s been making sure you get that bike of yours fixed up.” Instantly the words are out of my mouth, I realise they weren’t best chosen. Not with her looking so obviously just fucked.

His face, which was already ruddy, goes a blazing red. He marches forward, putting himself right in front of my woman. “What the fuck have you done, girl?” He examines her from head to toe and comes up with the only conclusion he can. “You been whoring yourself out?” His hands gesture wildly. “If they’ve forced you, I’ll kill the fucking lot.”

Idle threats, as shown when the brothers who are in the clubroom bark laughs. But instead of taking umbrage, like me, they seem happy enough to watch and see how this plays out.

Queenie, herself, is snorting with laughter. “I’m no whore,” she tells him. “But I do owe you an explanation.” Stepping closer, she slides her arm around MacPherson’s back and leads him to the bar. “There’s a lot to talk about, old man.”

“Less of the fuckin’ old,” MacPherson grumbles as, after only a moment’s hesitation, he allows her to lead him across the room.