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Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(45)

By:Meg Jackson


"Oh, fuccccckkkk," she moaned, and looking up Reign watched her eyes  roll back into her head as she took the entire length of him into her  tight pussy. She felt warm, and wet, and he moaned as he thrust his hips  upwards, filling her even more as his tongue darted around her nipples,  moving back and forth from one to the other, his hands kneading her ass  as she began to ride him.

"Oh, God, fuck, Reign, you feel so fucking good," she whimpered, her  hands draped around his neck now as she twisted her hips in a circle  while pumping up and down on his cock, her face growing red and her  breathing labored as she impaled herself on his member.

Reign brought one hand to her clit, gently pressing against it as she  gyrated atop him, lowering herself forcefully onto his cock, no longer  aiming to please him, lost in her own pleasure. Just how he liked it. He  thrust his hips upwards to meet her, using his strong arm around her  ass to help her move faster, harder.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me, baby?" he said, watching as her eyes  seemed to lose all focus, her mouth forced open into an O shape as she  got carried away, now not needing his help at all as her body took over,  demanding release, filled with his cock.

She began to tremble on top of him, and he increased the pressure  against her clit. She looked down, her face almost pained, pleasure  dripping from her lips like nectar as she cried out in short bursts, her  pussy dripping onto his thighs. Her grip around him increased, and her  eyes popped open.

"Yeah, just like that, baby girl, fuck my dick, come for daddy," he  growled, knowing that a girl like this was likely to lose her mind just  from the word "daddy". He was right, and seconds later she was clutching  him to her, crying out as her pussy contracted around his cock,  throbbing and milking it for all it was worth, her body trembling in his  arms.         

     



 

"Oh, god, fuck, yes, Reign, fuuuuuuuuuck," she moaned, her hips gyrating against him wildly now.

"Fuck yeah," he whispered into her ear, pressing his hand against her  lower back to fill her even more as she bucked on top of him. He loved  watching her lose control, loved when women went crazy on his dick,  begging for more. Finally, the tiny brunette slumped against him, her  hips now thrusting with much less enthusiasm against him as she  recovered from her climax.

"That was fucking amazing," she said, picking up speed now as she rode  him again. But he wouldn't come that way, and he pulled her upwards and  off him, taking his own dick in his hands.

"Take off your top," he demanded, knowing that if she hadn't already  been willing to do whatever he said, she certainly was now. She obliged  quickly, dropping the top to the floor. "Kneel down."

Again, she was happy to oblige, planting her hands on his thighs once  more as he stroked his cock, now slick with her juices. He looked at her  face, still flushed and rosy from her climax, her breathing not quite  back to normal.

"Are you gonna come on my tits, daddy?" she asked, pouting, playing up  the "daddy" angle. It wasn't really Reign's thing, but he liked to do  whatever made the girls happy.

"Yeah, baby girl, daddy's gonna come all over your tits, and I want you  to lick it all off," he said with a snarl, doing mental gymnastics to  try and put some meat on the lithe body in front of him  –  too thin for  his taste. She was gorgeous though, with those pouty little-girl lips,  and soon he felt himself automatically jerking off harder, his balls  churning, the girl in front of him thrusting her chest out for him and  running her hands up and down his thighs.

"Fuck," Reign groaned as a stream of cum shot out of his cock, landing  square on the brunette's chest, making her close her eyes and squeal in  pleasure. He shot load after load onto her, watching her systematically  wipe the cum from her tits and suck it off her fingers with relish.

"Thank you, daddy," she whispered through a mouthful of his hot cum, the  last of his load landing just short of the mark. He watched her get the  last bit of semen, which hung almost comically from her nipple, and  guzzle it into her throat. She's cute, he thought, unable to fight the  slightest bit of affection for the otherwise anonymous girl.

"Thank you," he said. "But daddy's gotta sleep now."

"Of course," the girl said, knowing her place well enough not to ask if  she could sleep with him. Instead, she hopped to her feet and quickly  dressed herself, leaving her shorts unbuttoned. Reign noticed the  slightest string of cum dangling from her hair and decided to leave it  be; she'd probably just move on to Endo or whatever other club members  were hanging around the bar. He leaned forward to smack her ass,  playfully, as she skipped from the room.

He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was sitting on the floor near the  couch and took a huge guzzle, feeling it burn down his throat. And then  he lay down on the couch, stretching out, closing his eyes. As he  drifted off to sleep, he felt cold and wished he had a blanket, or a  warm body next to him. Not the girl, but someone else. Someone he'd  never met, but who, deep down where he could barely admit it to himself,  he wished he would meet soon.





3





I was almost done. Three more rooms, and I'd have finished my duties for  the day. I was more than ready to clock out, change into real clothes,  and drive away as fast as I could. Less excited to arrive at home than I  was to just get the hell away from work, I knocked on the door of my  next room before letting myself in. My eyes immediately fell to a blue  duffel bag sitting on a chair in the middle of the room.

I picked up the duffle bag, wondering how someone could have forgotten  about it when it was just sitting on the chair, declaring its presence  at first glance around the room. It was surprisingly heavy when I lifted  it and set it down near my cart, meaning to bring it straight down to  the front desk once I was through with the room.

There was an odor in the room that I couldn't quite place. It smelled  metallic, cold. But, blessedly, that seemed to be the only major problem  with the room. No vomit or spilled beer here.

As I heaved the comforter and sheets off the bed, back aching from  performing the same motions over and over again, I saw something that  made my blood turn cold. I wanted to believe it was something other than  what I saw, but I couldn't fool myself. That smell was blood, and what  made that clear as day was the small pool of brownish-red liquid under  the bed. And in the middle of that pool, just barely peeking out, were  two fingers.         

     



 

Two fingers that were, presumably, attached to a whole body.

I nearly pissed my pants and threw up at the same time. I backed away  from the bed. I'd seen a lot of things in my time at the hotel, but  nothing like this. Nothing even nearly as bad as this.

Maybe it's ketchup and a glove, I thought, irrationally, knowing full  damn well that it wasn't. But something inside me insisted that I make  sure it was what I thought it was before telling everyone about how the  sky was falling. Tiptoeing around the bed, heart pounding, I kneeled  down a fair distance from the pool of blood (or, I still hoped,  ketchup). Holding my breath, I peered under the bed.

Yup. That was a body. Sure as shit, that was a dead-ass human being lying underneath that bed.

Why even bother to hide it there … I wondered, my mind moving slowly, not  quite processing what I was seeing. I shot straight up, mouth suddenly  very dry, heart beating faster than a drummer in a metal band. My eyes  darted to the duffel bag set near my cart.

I can only chalk my actions after that up to divine intervention, or  possibly shock, or maybe even just morbid curiosity. The appropriate  thing to do would have been to get on the walkie-talkie and report what  I'd found to my boss, and the police, and get the hell out of that room  before I further muddled up what was certainly a crime scene. Instead, I  walked to the duffel bag, leaning down and yanking at the zipper with  shaking hands.

Holy

Fucking

Shit.

That was a LOT of money. Like, stacks on stacks. Of hundreds, not  twenties. And mixed in with the money was a lot of taped-up Ziploc bags  full of what I'd come to recognize as cocaine. Like I said, you find a  lot of crap in hotel rooms after people have flown the coop.

I took one large step back before falling on my ass against the bed.  Thinking of the corpse that was only a foot away from me, I scurried  away from the bed to the wall on my hands and knees. If my heart had  been pounding before, it was basically ricocheting out of my chest at  that point.

I guess, even then, I knew what I was going to do.

See, there's only so much a human mind and body can take before it  breaks. And everything in my life had been working on me so long:  Jeremy, the job, the dullness of my days, the violence of my nights. I  hadn't thought I could ever get away.