“What if I want breakfast in bed?” I retort.
“Then I’ll eat your pussy until you pass out, then when you come to, it will be ready. Sounds pretty damn perfect to me,” he says smugly, like that’s all solved, and I’m sure he believes it is. I bet by the end of the day, half his shit will be here. I’ll bitch about it taking up my space, then he’ll probably fuck me on it to show me how functional it is.
I smile, looking forward to the fight. Leaning down over me, he kisses the smile from my face until I’m rubbing my pussy against his cock. His body moves in closer until we’re chest to chest. His hand shifts between us making me gasp as his finger explores my sex.
His face drops into the nook of my neck, where he licks under my ear, until the lick turns into an open-mouthed kiss. Part of me wants him to leave a mark there, but the other part of me doesn’t want to hear shit from the guys about it. It reminds me how different we are. Just last week he begged me to leave little marks all over him, and I did without question.
His fingers rub the wetness into my clit, drawing little circles.
“Fuck, you smell so good. I just ate your pussy but I want it again. I want your smell imprinted on me. ”
He replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, rubbing back and forth, making me moan. There’s no stopping the sounds pouring from me.
He doesn’t enter me, just rubs the head of his cock back and forth, making me cream with need.
“Come for me, Mackenzie.”
My hips bunch and I do as he commands, crying out softly. My orgasm hits hard and fast as the pleasure of it tears through me.
His body goes solid on top of mine and warm wetness spreads across my pussy. He groans into my ear as he continues to splash me, hitting not just my pussy but my thighs too.
Standing up he runs his fingers through the cum he’s left on me.
“This is how I mark you,” he says as he rubs his cum all over my pussy lips, down to my ass. Moving my panties back into place, he adds, “You’ll get little smells of me all day now. Remember that you’re mine.”
Pulling his boxers back over his half-hard cock, he tugs me to a sitting position on the island with him still between my legs.
“Maybe you’ll mark me back some day,” he says, grabbing me by the chain of my dog tags and pulling me in for a kiss. I know he isn’t talking about another hickey, or the scratches I leave on him. He’s talking about my tags.
He asked me about the club one day and I told him only members or old ladies are allowed in. No sweet butt, or in his case, sweet cock. He wasn’t too happy when he realized he was classed as a sweet cock and would remain that way until I give him my tags. Now he is always eying them.
I’d love nothing more than to give them to him, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be around. My brothers were reluctant at first when they realized that this isn’t all some game anymore, or me just trying to find out what the fed knows. Pres seems to like the idea of having him close, but I think that’s for his own personal gain. Who wouldn't want a fed on their side? But who knows how they’ll react if they see my tags around his neck. Fucking him is one thing, but letting him into the club is another.
Things with the Five Aces have been quiet, and the guns still haven’t turned up, they could at any moment, and I could be hightailing it out of town with nothing but memories of Vincent to hang on to, and I want all of them I can get. The thought makes me deepen the kiss.
I love the way he kisses. He always possesses and dominates my mouth. His tongue moves alongside mine the same way he moves when he’s buried deep inside me.
The beeping of my phone pulls me from my haze.
“Don’t,” he says against my mouth, not wanting me to pull away. Then his goes off too.
“Fuck,” he grunts, pulling back from me. Moments later he’s handing me my phone and answering his.
“Cassano,” he says as I watch his face turn serous. He turns and leaves the room.
Sliding my finger across mine I unlock it, see the text, and I feel the bottom of my world drop out.
Pres: FUBAR
Now I know why he took the call out of the room, it is about the guns. Pres doesn’t send a FUBAR alert if it isn’t bad…Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. It’s the end of the line. It looks like all the moments I was trying to store up have reached their limit.
It’s funny how my father is taking another person from me that I love, even from the grave. And that’s when it hits me. I am madly, totally, completely in love with Vincent. It occurs to me that my first thought isn’t having to leave the club, it is having to leave him.
This man who is everything I ever wanted. He’s so domineering, but he doesn’t try to control or change me. He lets me be me and molds around me, and now I’ve lost him. It would be selfish of me to ask him to come with me. He loves his family as much as I love the club, I know that because of how much he talks about them, pressuring me to meet them, and I know it will rip him in two to leave his life behind. They’re a big part of him. At first I thought he was getting all these random calls from women but soon I realized he has a bunch of nosey sisters. It’s silly of me to even think he would leave them all. For all I know he could stop me from running, drag me down to the station. No, he won’t do that, but he will try to get me to stay, tell me to fight it. There is no fighting it. I killed my father and this is the first time I’ve ever had a sliver of regret about it. Not because I’m sad about what I’ve done but what it’s about to cost me.