A Very Christopher Christmas (A Death Dwellers MC Novella) (49 page)

He didn’t do this type of shit too often. It was too much fucking work. He dominated girls without tying them up and blindfolding them. But this was a special case. He wanted to own every part of Bailey and have her complete trust in him.
 

She turned on her bare feet, throwing her heels aside, and grinning at him.
 

“We need more champagne,” she announced, her eyes glittering in a happily drunk way. She staggered to him and flattened her palms against his chest. She hiccupped and giggled. “I wanna suck your dick off with the champagne in my mouth.”
 

His dick jumped. He knew he should let her sober up, but he wasn’t
that
fucking good. He’d fucked too many drunken bitches to count. Some had even been high on other shit. He could certainly fuck his drunken wife.
 

Standing on her tiptoes, Bailey grabbed his cock and outlined it against his pants. “You want me to show you how I fucked my clit with the little lipstick thing?”
 

No. He wanted to keep Bailey plied with fucking champagne so she could always talk dirty to him.
 

“I’m going to use it on you myself,” he told her, grabbing her waist to stop her wiggling against his dick. If she kept this shit up, he’d abandoned all the fucking work and go straight for the pleasure.
 

She pressed her lips against his and he took advantage of it by unzipping her dress and sliding it down her shoulders. Her fingers went to his belt and he pulled away, lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. He laid her on it, pretending the sight of her in a pink lacy bra with a little black bow and a matching thong, didn’t affect him.
 

Her hair pooled around her and her eyes were heavy-lidded but damn inviting. She lifted her hands above her head and thrust her breasts up.
 

Staring at her made him realize the headboard and footboard had no place to tie restraints and he was almost relieved. Then, he reminded himself she’d had a shitty wedding, so she needed a memorable honeymoon. His eyes honed in on the chair to the dining table.
 

Walking around the suite to prepare everything, he undressed in the process. Finally, he had everything in place except his wife. To play it cool instead of making a fucking fool of himself over her, he grabbed a cigarette, lit it and dragged on it a couple times.
 

“Come here, girl,” he ordered, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He knew she was awake because she’d been humming the entire time he did this shit, laying on her stomach, head propped on her hands, legs bent and feet in the air.
 

She scrambled off the bed and scampered to him, rocking back on her heels, giving him an even wider smile. Unable to stop himself, he grabbed the cigarette between his fingers and snickered.
 

Before leaning over and tamping out his cigarette, he kissed her belly, then he hooked a finger in the waistband of her panties and pulled her to him. She skimmed her fingers through his hair, raising an individual coil and lifting it. A moment later, she arranged his
locks, then traced the curves of his face—lips, cheeks, nose, eyebrows, forehead. Her touch was so tender, so soft.
 

She kissed his forehead.
 

Bailey liked kissing. Mortician knew that. She was pretty good at it, although he didn’t want to explore why that might be. She made him enjoy it, too. Eventually, she’d let him inside her, but just having her wrapped in his arms and enjoying her mouth was fucking beautiful.
 

But
this
kiss. A press of her lips upon his skin. It could’ve been the kind friends gave to each other. Or the type that had a poignant meaning. A wordless farewell.
 

Bailey was getting under his skin. If she hadn’t before, the sheer sweetness of the moment weakened Mortician. She looked so vulnerable, standing before him nearly naked, trusting him with her body. Her heart. The one she’d just handed to him with that kiss.
 

He wanted to push her away. He wanted to
walk
away because he didn’t need this shit. Yet, he couldn’t. Once they returned to the club, he’d distance himself until after the bet. Maybe, by the time it was over, he would’ve gotten control of whatever he felt for Bailey.
 

Right now, he could act like her husband. After all, he
was
. Motherfuckers said often enough what happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas, so Mortician would put that shit to good use.
 

“Sexy girl,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist and licking the skin of her stomach. As he trailed his tongue over her belly, he slid her thong down her legs. She kicked them aside and leaned against him.
 

His hand traveled to her pussy and he massaged her clit with two fingers before dipping into her cunt hole. She was so fucking wet. His dick would slip into her so easy, but he liked this close intimacy between them.
 

He hadn’t meant to tell her the name of his dick. Now, in hindsight, he was glad she knew that about him. He’d answer her questions tomorrow, just as promised. She deserved to know a little more about him.
 

Finding her mouth with his and kissing her, he urged her back to the chair, keeping pace with her on his knees. Somehow, he managed to keep his lips on her and grab one of the items he’d bought at the sex store.
 

By sheer will, he pulled away and pressed the silver bullet against her clit. He was breathing hard and heavy as he turned the vibrator on. She arched her back and moaned.
 

“Show me,” he demanded. He hadn’t been able to get the thought of her using something on her clit and thinking of him.
 

She rocked her hips against it. “I want you inside of me,” she protested. “Why do I have to use this when you’re here?”
 

“Because I want to fucking see.” He also wanted to prove to himself that
he
had the control in this situation. He exchanged his hand with hers and inched back, the scent of her pussy watering his mouth and testing the fuck out of his resolve.
 

“Do it,” he said roughly.
 

She spread her legs wider, holding his gaze, and canted her hips up, whimpering. Each time she rolled it over her clit, she grew a little wetter and his dick got harder. He never imagined watching Bailey get herself off could be so fucking erotic and wouldn’t even fool himself that he wouldn’t blow his load soon.
 

Fuck.
 

He reminded himself this was about control. Soothing his heart and reassuring his head he wasn’t anywhere near addicted to her young pussy. Or to her.
 

She cried out, her thighs trembling.
 

Pushing the bullet out of the way, he moved between her thighs and stroked his dick, grunting as he came against her swollen clit, his cock jerking. She attempted to pull his dick to her pussy. Mortician didn’t allow it and she growled in frustration.
 

Since the restraints were already in place, Mortician decided to put them to use. She couldn’t touch him if her hands were not free, so he made quick work of securing her hands and feet to the chair. Her ass was right on the edge, so he got the other vibrator, the dual action one with the rotating head and pulsating beads.
 

Her breath hitched and Mortician’s pulse pounded in his ears. He picked up the warming lubricant, the curiosity flaring in her eyes almost undoing him.
 

He handed her the vibrator. She still wore her bra—oh fucking well—and he couldn’t use the blindfold. He wanted to watch her, gaze into her eyes as she fell apart for him.
 

Kissing the column of her neck, he pumped a little of the strawberry flavored gel on his fingers and rubbed it on her pussy. She groaned.
 

“You addicted to my dick, Bailey?” he whispered, between sucking on her bottom lip. She had to be. He certainly wasn’t addicted to
her
pussy and she better not fucking be getting cock from another motherfucker.
 

The lubricant had heated up. He flicked his finger against her clit lazily, ignoring Bailey’s urgent pulls against her restraints.
 

“You want to fuck?” he asked her again, removing his hand because she was close to coming. “Answer me.”
 

“Yes!” she cried.
 

He tugged the vibrator from her and lubed it up. He laid the rabbit ears against her clit and turned it on before inserting the rotating head inside of her. She was already falling apart, her entire body shaking, her eyes rolling in her head.
 

He sank his teeth into her neck and kept the vibrator in her pussy. She shook her head from side-to-side and screamed. He twisted it a little and she panted, her skin flushed and hot, her eyes dark and glazed from the intensity of her orgasms.
 

“You like being at my mercy? Submitting to me?”
 

“Yes!” she gasped out, moaning when he increased the speed. “Lucas—“
 

“What, baby?” he crooned, shoving down the cup of her bra and sucking her nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and teeth.
 

Her body stiffened and she squeaked, her mouth open in a silent scream, her pussy creaming on his fingers and drenching her thighs. Before she spiraled down, he took away the vibrator and filled her with his cock, her pussy muscles squeezing his dick, her juices dripping onto his balls.
 

He seized her lips, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth, the vibrator buzzing in his head. Clutching her waist, he drove into her. She was stretched around him, milking his dick, taking each of his deep thrusts.
 

The thought that she belonged to him and he belonged to her pissed him off. This couldn’t fucking be happening.
 

She turned her head away. “I want to touch you. Untie my hands.”
 

He gritted his teeth to keep from giving in to her request, pumped into her a couple more times and, then, filled her pussy to the brim with his cum.
 

Pulling out of her, he rested back on his haunches and leaned his head in his hands, breathing hard, sweat saturating his chest and forehead. When he looked up again, he saw Bailey resting against the back of the chair, watching him.
 

Silent, he untied her, grumbling under his breath about this additional step. Tying required interrupting getting
in
the pussy. Maybe, he wasn’t an imaginative motherfucker, but he couldn’t see tying a girl up
before
they even started kissing, so he had to think of ways to do the tying while trying to get the pussy.
 

Then, at the fucking end, after his head was still light from the release of so much cum into Bailey, he had to ruin shit and untie her.
 

She rubbed her wrists and he scowled at her. He hadn’t tied her that tight, but then he saw the marks and remembered how she’d bucked to free herself when she got off.
 

Not saying anything, he gathered the restraints, the bullet, the vibrator, and dropped them into the bag before balling everything up and slamming it into the next garbage can.
 

“Why did you do that?”
 

Bailey’s voice was hoarse and throaty.
 

“Restraints too much fucking work and you not using nothing to get your pussy off except me.”
 

She smirked. He glared.
 

“I think I’ll get in bed,” she purred, removing her bra and dangling it from her fingers. “No restraints required to keep me there.”
 

Snorting a laugh and shaking his head, he followed her to bed, knowing they wouldn’t sleep anytime soon.
 

MISALLIANCE
 

Book 4.5 – Death Dwellers MC Series
 

After walking away from Johnnie six months ago, Kendall is back, hoping for another chance with him.
 

Warmth surrounded Kendall, the scent of sandalwood and citrus invading her nostrils. Drawing in a deep breath, she sighed in contentment, turning to the source of heat and snuggling closer.
 

A feathery touch whispered across her lips.
 

“Mmm,” she murmured, opening her eyes at the light contact.
 

Johnnie’s smile greeted her. Unable to stop it—not wanting to—she lifted up and returned his kiss, then grinned at him.
 

“Hey.”
 

“Hi, gorgeous.”
 

Her insides warmed at his husky words. She brushed her fingers along the curve of his jaw, his morning stubble tickling her sensitive skin. They faced each other, both of them lying on their sides. She stared into his eyes, free of fatigue or anger, just basking in
her
. Whatever else she’d ever doubted she always knew how much he enjoyed looking at her. Even when she’d been uncomfortable with his attention, he took pleasure in her height, her curves, and her red hair.
 

“Are you feeling okay?”
 

She nodded. “I barely had morning sickness. Don’t you remember?”
 

He moved a lock of hair away from her cheek. “Yes. I didn’t know if that had changed or not.”
 

“It hasn’t,” she said softly. Grabbing his hand, she placed it on her stomach, hoping the baby moved. Kendall had noted, weeks ago, it didn’t do early morning. Most of its activity happened from late afternoon to late evening.
 

Johnnie caressed her, the nightgown she wore serving as a thin barrier between his touch and her skin. Her nipples tightened. Desire shot through her at the sudden flame smoldering in his eyes.