The tattooed millionaire’s arms were like steel poles. It was like being clamped in some kind of sexual torture device that I was enjoying all too much. With this grip, this leverage, Jace fucked me so hard that I had no choice but to scream his name just like he said I would.
Every impact nearly took my breath away, and my breasts wobbled crazily despite how small and perky they were. I almost needed a sports bra, but I couldn’t hold on to them. I curled my arms around his hand and held on for dear life as Jace impaled me over and over again, stoking that fire in my belly.
My breath began to hitch again, and I thought I couldn’t be more than a few thrusts away from my second blinding orgasm of the night, when Jace released me and rose up on his knees. I stretched out, surprised at how stiff my back felt, but he didn’t give me any time to work out the kinks.
He pushed my legs to his left, then flipped me into a doggy-style position, never taking his magnificent cock out of my eager sex. Pausing for a moment, he regathered my hair into another ponytail and pulled me back against his cock.
Smack!
I yelped in surprise and then shivered in pleasure as he slapped my ass, hard enough that I was sure I’d have a big red hand print there in a few seconds. My legs quivered in anticipation. Would he start fucking me hard, or spank me again? I was amazed to discover that either would have been completely fine by me.
Smack!
“Ow! Oh… mmm!”
I didn’t have the words to describe how good that sting felt, that control he had via the grip on my hair, how good that fullness felt. All I knew was that I was his and he could do anything he wanted to me.
“You like that, Kendall? You like being my little fucktoy?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I panted.
“What do you want?”
Smack!
“Ow! Please… fuck me!”
“Fuckin’ right!”
Jace gripped my hair tight enough that the back of my head stung almost as much as my ass cheek and pounded into me so hard that each thrust and impact was a blur. With that hold on my hair and one hand on the small of my back, he kept me in the perfect position to rail me at full power until I felt new tears of pleasure watering my eyes.
That second climax that had been hovering around the edges since shortly after the first was perilously close now. I closed my eyes and grit my teeth.
Smack!
That was all it took to push me over the edge. Pleasure beyond reckoning shook my body, and my tight pussy muscles clamped down on Jace’s cock. I thought I was screaming his name, but in reality I could have been screaming in tongues for all I knew.
As I floated on my tidal wave of ecstasy, I felt the first spurt of Jace’s hot cum inside me and that wonderful warmth spreading out. It was like his essence, his strength, was becoming part of me. I felt powerful, strong, fearless, as if I would feel like this forever.
I should have been worried about getting pregnant, but even after our first encounter I hadn’t gone to get the morning-after pill. I’d thought about it, but then left the pharmacy with some aloe vera cream for my tender pussy instead.
Jace had given me a gift, and again tonight, and that would have been like rejecting it. I couldn’t do that. Everything he gave me was precious because it was from him, the only one in the whole world who looked at me and saw something special.
I realized now, as the orgasm-fog cleared away, that I never had any hope of keeping it purely professional with Jace. He was in my head from the moment I saw him, and everything he did was helping him force his way into my heart too.
*****
I could have happily fallen asleep in Jace’s arms after that, but when he’d said we were going to do everything he wanted all night, he meant it. It was almost three o’clock in the morning by the time he’d had his way with me to his satisfaction.
Afterwards, my legs wouldn’t immediately work, so he carried me to the bathroom. He set me down in the shower, with seven showerheads blasting us with warm relaxing water. Jace cleaned me from head to toe with shower gel that smelled a lot like the oils from AquaVell.
By the time he’d done that, I was able to return the favor, exploring his body with slow awe, feeling every scar and muscle at my own pace, without having his hard dick bending my mind to distraction at the same time. He was a work of art, and he was right. Some pieces of art were more OK than others.
After the shower, instead of returning to the same room we’d just been in, he carried me to another bedroom as if I was light as a feather. This was much more extensively furnished, and I guessed this must be the real master bedroom.
He put me in bed, then turned out the light before joining me. I cuddled up to him, and after a pause as if he was unsure of himself for the first time, he cuddled me back.
I took a deep breath and sighed. So exhausted, happy and satisfied, I nuzzled into him even closer and was halfway to drifting off to sleep when Jace spoke in the darkness.
“I never tracked down my parents,” he said.
“Hmmm?”
“To answer your question. I never tracked down my parents.”
“Why not?”
“Because they died in a car crash when I was five, maybe six. I was in the car with them.”
Chapter 18
Jace
The Ex Machina Motorcycle Club headquarters was built like a post-apocalyptic fortress. I let them run their drugs through the city with almost zero regulations, other than fair competition from my guys, so I knew, with the kind of money that was flowing through their hands, they could have done a lot better.
Yet, they seemed to like it like this, walls made from mismatched pieces of corrugated iron, barbed wire everywhere. That was their style.
The only thing they’d really changed since I first made my deal with them was an upgrade of weapons. The men manning the walls up there by the spotlights weren’t doing it with pipes, chains and second-hand six-shooters anymore. Now they had machine guns.
Normally I wouldn’t come here, but a day like this demanded my presence. Their availability as an on-call mobile army, separate from my own operations, was too valuable an asset to lose.
Two Ex Machina members escorted me across the courtyard. We walked past a bonfire where a big group sat around drinking beer, barely avoiding breaking into brawls, and semi-ignoring the biker-chick getting finger-banged not quite outside its circle of light.
Some of them stared at me with open hostility. They could fuckin’ try it if they wanted.
One building, obviously designed by the same architect responsible for the outer walls, was rattling and shaking so loudly that it was impossible to tell what kind of music was causing it. Smoke and lights poured out of the gaps in the walls, and mingled with the night air. Weed, grease and burning rubber.
Another building was filled with bikes in various states of being dismantled and rebuilt. Sparks flew from grinders and welding masks stared at blindingly bright lights as they made whatever modifications they wanted.
This was what a motorcycle club did after getting caught in a surprise attack by a well-armed enemy. My enemy.
I wasn’t being led to either of those buildings though. I had a meeting with “Iron” Jim Morrins, the man in charge here, and I was heading towards the door with guards posted.
One of them reached back and banged on the door with his fist without saying a word to us. Somebody on the inside unlocked it before swinging it open on hinges that screamed. Jim had three people talking to him at once, and there was a map on his desk. They all shut up when they saw I had arrived.