Man of the House(158)

He was an animal. I knew he’d be incredible, but I couldn’t give in to him. I kept touching myself, faster and faster, my pussy dripping wet.

In my fantasy, Clutch would fuck me rough and deep, getting deeper and harder with each stroke. He’d whisper into my ear about how good my pussy felt, how much he loved savaging my tight body.

And as I’d get close, he’d suddenly stop and pull me back, grabbing me by the hips and practically carrying me along with him. I’d be panting and begging for him to keep fucking me.

He’d sit down on the couch and drag me down on top of him, spreading my legs wide. He’d pull his shirt off and toss it aside, and I’d trace the ink across his chest as he slowly lowered me down onto his thick, hard cock.

I’d throw my head back and groan as I began to slowly ride his length. I’d slide up and down along his hard cock, my pussy dripping wet, my mind crazy and wild with desire for him.

He’d hold my hips and fuck me, pushing himself into me, his delicious lips against my neck. He’d tell me how he loved to watch my hips ride his cock, how he wanted me to ride him faster, harder. I’d keep moving my hips, moving faster and faster as he slapped my ass. I’d grind down on him, his rough hands on my breasts, his lips at my neck, taking him, riding him, making him fuck me.

As I got closer, my hand working my clit, I had to bite down on the comforter to keep from moaning. I kept picturing Clutch’s tattooed body fucking me, making me sweat, working me within an inch of an orgasm and holding me there, making me beg for it.

He was the type of man that made women beg, and then always delivered.

I made myself come then, trying not to moan, biting down on the comforter. My body spasmed as the pleasure washed over me, my mind locked totally on Clutch and only Clutch.

It slowly passed, and I lay there panting.

I’d never gotten myself off with a person in the other room before, let alone imagined that person.

What the hell was happening to me? I was going to be a married woman soon. Maybe I didn’t want to be, but I was going to do it for the club.

The club needed me, and I needed to prove that I cared about them. They’d given me so much. The least I could do was help save some of their lives.

I couldn’t live with myself if I had a chance to make the war go easier for them and didn’t do everything in my power to make that happen. The men of the Demons MC did hard things all the time. I just had to be strong.

I slowly got out of bed and made sure to put on some clothes this time. I wrapped a robe around myself just to make sure. As I left my room, I peeked into the living room.

And saw Clutch sitting on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, without a shirt on.

His body was ripped and hard, all rough muscles and tattoos. I couldn’t help but stare, my mouth hanging open, at his incredible body. He hadn’t noticed me yet, as he watched the morning news, a cup of coffee in his hands.

I quickly tore myself away and went into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and did something with my hair.

I had to get ahold of myself.

I walked back out and went into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Clutch grunted.

“Put a shirt on,” I said.

He grinned. “Why? You distracted?”

I made a face. “If you’re staying here, you’d better at least try to stay decent.”

“Whatever you say.” He grabbed his shirt and pulled on it, and instantly I wished he hadn’t.

“I need to go to the clubhouse,” I said to him.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

I bit my lip but didn’t respond. I looked at him for a second but decided I didn’t want to press. I got some coffee and went to my room to get dressed.



The ride out to the club was easy. We didn’t talk much, and I got the sense that Clutch wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

That was fine with me. I was about to go agree to something that seemed truly horrible, even though I knew it wouldn’t be real.

I’d never actually marry this guy. I’d say the words and play the part, but I’d never really be his wife. It was only real and only had power if I let it.

We pulled up out front and Clutch killed the engine. I climbed off and he just looked at me.

“Not coming in?” I asked him.

He stared at me silently for a second, his gaze intense and brooding.

“You sure about this?” he asked me.

“Yeah,” I said softly, “I am.”

“Seems to me that you have no real reason to do anything for the club,” he said. “You don’t owe us anything.”

“I do though,” she said. “Just like you, I grew up here. This is my home. I have to help if I can.”

He just shook his head. “I’m not watching it.”