2. Gator
Chapter two
Gator
Past…
“That’s it, Pet, ride my fucking cock.” I groan, pulling back on the chained heart choker necklace I gave her a month ago.
I had it specially made for Emma. The first heart drops through the second, and when I pull on the chain, it chokes her, effectively cutting off her oxygen just enough to get her there.
She knows her safe word and, if she can’t speak, can tap me three times.
I traded some tattoo work to a brother down in Texas who’s a jeweler to custom-make her necklace for me.
He custom-made it, brought it up to me, and I traded him for three hours in the tattoo chair.
Most people would think it’s just two diamond-encrusted hearts on a chain, but it’s really for moments like this.
I have one hand wrapped around the chain, and the other is squeezing into her hip as I jerk Emma up and down on my cock.
We’re in the front seat of my brand-new blacked-out F-250 truck.
I leaned the driver’s seat back, jerked my jeans open just enough to get my dick out, ripped off my shirt, then instructed her perfect ass to climb up and ride me, like the perfect bitch she is.
We went into the city to go to dinner, but after almost twenty-four hours of not being inside her, I couldn’t wait any longer.
It also didn’t help that my pet was being a bad girl, playing with herself while I was trying to drive us home safely.
The smell of her alone was enough to make my eyes dilate with need, but when she started in on her little breathy moans coupled with watching her fingers slide in and out of her drenched pussy, that black lace pushed to the side of her fat mound.
I went on autopilot, while my dick took the lead.
What’s a red-blooded Southern guy to do?
I pulled over on a dirt road just a few minutes from the clubhouse, gravel flying as I yanked to a stop.
I wasted no time burying myself in her tight, wet pussy.
Her dress has been pulled off and thrown somewhere in the back seat of my truck.
The cups of her bra are only pulled down enough so I could get my mouth on her perfect C-cup breasts.
If her father knew I fucked his precious daughter like this, I would be a dead man for sure, his VP or not.
The fact that I’m his VP would just add gasoline to the fire.
“One day I’m going to pierce these beautiful babies.” Smacking her ass, urging her to ride me faster as I bite at her perfect nipples. “That’s it, baby girl, get there for me.”
She rewards me with a guttural moan, digging her fingers into my chest hard enough to draw blood.
She’s in her own world of nirvana as she bounces up and down on my dick with her legs pinned at my sides.
My little Pet has that sweet, innocent look outside of the bedroom down pat, but when it's just the two of us, she turns wild and wants me to dominate her. Can’t say I mind with my need to control and all.
We are in our own little world in this steamed-up truck.
The windows are covered in a thick coat of fog from our heavy panting.
Emma’s head is thrown back in ecstasy as she groans out her moans, her back arched over the steering wheel.
It’s a tight fit with my tall frame, but I gain traction with my motorcycle boots gripping the plastic floorboard covers, allowing me to piston in and out of her at a relentless pace.
She looks like a beautiful, well fucked mess, and it only turns me on more.
Her pussy juices are dripping down my balls as my belt buckle jingles with every thrust.
Sweat runs down her body and my chest, even with the AC on full blast in this Oklahoma summer heat, even with it being dark out.
The glow of the moon and the dashboard were our only sources of light.
Her hands change directions, and she drags them down my abs before rubbing her clit in tight circles.
She’s every wet dream I could ever have.
I yank on the chained necklace around her neck. “Look at me, pet,” I pant out from the exertion of fucking her with everything in me, demanding her full attention. She returns the motion with heavy, hard slaps of her ass against my thighs, meeting me thrust for thrust.
She instantly snaps her eyes to mine. “Good girl,” I praise her.
With a wicked smile, she rides me faster.
Using my feet on the floorboard for leverage, I thrust into her tight pussy.
I feel it grip and wrap around my cock, letting me know she is almost there.
“My bitch has the tightest pussy, and so wet for me.” I reach my mouth out and capture hers, sliding my tongue in her mouth in the same fever I’m fucking her, trying desperately to mold us together as one.
“Squirt for me, baby. I want to see you lose control and gush all over my lap.”
I lick my finger before reaching down to knock her hand out of the way and strum her clit before latching onto her nipple.
I bite down before sucking, causing her to detonate.
Both hands grip my wrist as if she's begging me not to stop as she squirts all over me and my black leather seat with a deep moan.
Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she rides her wave of ecstasy.
The squeezing of her pussy around my cock coupled with the fact that I made my bitch squirt, turning her into a human slip and slide, is enough to rip my orgasm from me.
“Mine,” I roar as I slam her back down onto my dick before coating her womb in my cum, marking her from the inside out as mine.
Praying like hell that I pump my kid into her.
For the past three weeks, I’ve had this urge to see her pregnant with my kid, and it’s almost overwhelming.
One day, I walked in on her in the shower, and she looked like she was glowing.
The urge to claim her as mine was so stifling that I stripped off my clothes faster than I ever had in my life, banging into the clubhouse bathroom vanity and knocking a whole shit ton of girly stuff off the countertop in the process, then climbed in with her.
“Such a good girl,” I praise her. I kiss her forehead as I catch my breath after letting go of her necklace. Emma slumps against my chest. I rub my calloused hands up and down her body in a soothing motion as she comes back to planet Earth.
She rubs her face against my chest like a cat in heat. “I never knew I could do that until you.” She moans in contentment.
I smack her ass, making her yelp. “My dick’s still in you; don’t talk about other motherfuckers,” I growl.
She rests her chin on my chest, smiling up at me. “It’s a good thing you opted for the leather seats, huh?”
“Smart ass. I’m going to make the prospects clean it when we get back.” I chuckle.
She smacks my chest, her face burning with mortification. “You wouldn’t dare.” I grab her wrists, pinning them to the roof as I lean in and kiss her lips with searing intensity.
“Fuck yeah, I’m going to. They’re so green they won't even know what it is.” I let go of her hands to smack her ass again. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. Trust me, they’ve cleaned up worse around the clubhouse. They should be so lucky to clean up after you,” I joke.
“I still think it’s gross.” She laughs, then rests her head against my chest. I wrap my arms around her again. “I love you, Trey.” A contented sigh escapes her lips.
“I love you too, pet.” I kiss the top of her head and pull her close.
It’s true I love her, and it’s time to stop sneaking around the club like a dirty secret.
I want this woman as mine, and I’m willing to take the beatdown I deserve.
We have church tomorrow, and I’m planning to come clean to the club and then make her my wife.
“I gave my dad the blueprints for the house I’m going to build for you.
It’ll be on the lot next to his. The crew will break ground next week.
” I murmur into her hair as I hold her close. She knows what that means.
She knows this is me asking her to stay, to be mine.
If she says yes, I will bring this to the table and start our life together.
She will make the perfect VP ol’ lady, and as the years go on, the perfect President’s ol’ lady.
She’s sweet to me but will stand strong with the other old ladies, refusing to take any shit.
She fits into this life like she was meant to be here all along.
Hell, if Donna hadn’t stolen her away to Arkansas when she left Beaver, maybe she would have been mine all along.
As it stands, only my best friend and sister know about our relationship, though I think my grandmother suspects something is going on, how she watches me and Emma like a hawk.
It’s not judgmental. She watches us with warmth and happiness in her eyes.
I see her knowing twinkle when she catches us brushing up against each other in public.
It makes me want to shout from the rooftop that this woman, curled up on my chest and parked on the side of a dirt road, is my ol lady in every sense of the word.
She will not only be a good woman for me but also a good asset to the sisterhood, something most brothers consider before making a woman an ol lady.
I think it’s one of the reasons my dad hasn’t been down that road again since my mother, or, as Harley and I like to joke, our toaster.
She cooked us; that’s it. It’s morbid, I know, but I gotta survive somehow, and dark humor is it.
She shoots into my lap with a big smile, cupping my face in her hands as she squeals. “Are you serious?”