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Authors: Carmen Faye

Brute: The Valves MC

BOOK: Brute: The Valves MC
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This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

 

Brute copyright @ 2016 by Carmen Faye. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

 

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COLE

INKED

STEEL

TEASE

TEMPTING TARGET

ROUGH JUSTICE

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

The touch of his hand on my back sent hot shivers through my body. I couldn’t suppress a moan. He bent and kissed my lips, pulling at the lower one. I ran my small palms over his front, pulling up his t-shirt. His hard abs contracted at the touch of my hands and he breathed heavily into our kiss. I moved my hands clumsily around his back, pulling up the fabric slowly. He impatiently yanked the t-shirt and threw it on the floor, then grabbed me by the hips and pinned me against the wall with a grunt.

 

I whimpered when his hands reached my buttocks and squeezed hard. Wrapping my legs around him, I gave into our kiss, tasting this man I was finally having. I was ecstatic, mingled images of us parading behind my closed eyelids, making me moan little by little as I let him take over my mouth, take over my body. I felt him pull back and dared to open my eyes. He was watching me and smiled with those wicked steel-green eyes. I couldn’t help but sigh.

 

To give him something to watch, I lowered my legs to the floor and slightly pushed him away. I proceeded to unbutton my pale pink shirt. Excitement sent tremors through my body, making my fingers shake. He growled under his breath and reached to grab the delicate hems, but I shook my head, tentatively. I wanted to tease him and I wasn’t going to let him have at it just yet.

 

He reluctantly let me go on, resigning to rubbing his bulging crotch.

 

I kept unbuttoning, one by one, the little buttons, then parted the shirt on my sides and reached for the waist of my pants. I ran my fingers slowly between the fabric and my skin, stopping at the front, and unfastened my belt, then lowered the zipper down and pulled at the corners to drag the pants below my ass. I saw him lick his lips, the look in his eyes prompting a daring ripple in my stomach. I loved what I was doing to him and I wanted to go on, even if I craved him inside me with every second I prolonged our agony.

 

Running my tongue between my lips, I parted the shirt farther, giving him a view of my lacy, almost sheer, bra. I saw him watching my hard nipples pierce through the fabric as I breathed and he couldn’t help but cup one of my tits. He stepped closer and bent to take the nipple into his mouth. I squealed in pleasure and pushed my breasts towards him. I couldn’t stop a hand from going between my legs. I slipped it underneath my panties and teased my clit with shallow motions. He saw that and pulled my hand out, tasting my wet fingers.

 

Pleasure and anticipation made my vision blurry for a second. I suddenly found myself in the air, him holding me by the waist to pull down my pants. Then, he threw me on the bed and I felt my stomach do a backflip in excitement.

 

I propped myself on my elbows and looked at him. My legs spread by themselves and I could see him whimper at the sight of my dripping wet core. He got rid of his jeans and boxers, my jaw dropping at his length. I couldn’t help but swallow hard and moan lustfully at the thought of him pushing that inside me soon as my hips moved towards him. He reached a hand towards his cock and stroked a few times, the tip glistening with precum.

 

I scooted closer and kissed the tip, making him whimper again. I wasn’t a very well-versed woman when it came to the art of blowjobs, but his member compelled me to open my mouth and welcome it on my tongue.

 

He let me struggle with its girth, watching me through hooded eyes, breathing shallowly. He took advantage of my position and glided the shirt off my shoulders. I helped him get rid of the fabric, then I reached a hand to grab his cock, but I couldn’t wrap my fingers around it. It was too thick and this little discovery sent another round of hot ripples through my body, pooling all my desire between my legs. I was strangely happy about his size, although I was a bit concerned with regards to fitting, so I looked up, wanting to relay to him my thoughts. I was welcomed by the most beautiful sight a woman could wish to have. His muscles contracted under the power I held over his cock, sweat gliding over his dark tattoos and down his abdomen, eyes full of desire for me.

 

Seeing me struggle with his cock, he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out of my mouth, bent to kiss me aggressively, then pushed his hands underneath each of my parted legs and scooped me up. He deposited me farther back on the bed and leaned on top of me, supporting his weight on his strong hands. Looking at me, he lowered his head and pulled the sheer fabric of my bra with his teeth. He circled my nipples with his tongue, then trailed over my flat belly, towards my pussy. I couldn’t help but lift my knees as he kissed the mound and he took advantage of my move to pull my panties down. I was exposed to him now, and he used his position to passionately kiss my wet folds.

 

The sensation made me moan loudly and, as he ran his tongue along my slit, I squirmed in pleasure. I wanted him inside me and I didn’t want anything between us. I reached behind and yanked my bra off, my tits bouncing from the sudden move. He sucked my clit strongly as he saw my perky tits move freely. He managed to get a scream out of me, as he pushed his tongue inside, making me shake with built up desire.

 

“Just fuck me…” I couldn’t help but whisper and I closed my eyes as I said it, too embarrassed to look at him.

 

He rose from between my legs and pushed my lips open with a deep kiss as he positioned himself at my entrance. He teased me with the tip, kissing me, then whispered in a raspy voice, ““As you wish,” and he pushed his cock inside.

 

I gasped at the feeling of being stretched by him and I reached my hands around his shoulders, needing to hold on as he started moving in and out, picking up speed.

 

His dark stubble grazed at my cheek as his body moved over mine, the sensation amplified a thousandfold
by the pleasure he was giving me. I grabbed him closer and pushed my hips up to take more of him.

 

I heard him grunt and push harder. He was tormenting me. I couldn’t figure out his rhythm, as he moved fast, then slow, then in circles, leaving me in a continuous state of wonder and discovery. I gave up following his moves, understanding he was in charge and knew what he was doing. He knew, indeed, as he made me writhe underneath him, eager to take everything he was willing to give me. I wanted to wrap my legs tighter around his hips, to get as much of him as possible, and he saw that. He rose and grabbed my legs, pushing my knees onto my chest. Then, he arranged his hands in such a way that one was designated to hold my legs in place and the other went to fondle my breasts. As he changed to this position, he pulled out just until only part of the tip was inside me, then came down fast and pushed inside, setting millions of fireworks off in my mind. He hit spots I never thought I had and from this angle I could feel his entire length inside me, moving faster, leaving me fighting for air.

 

I felt the pleasure build up, my body contracting with the anticipation of sweet release. I cried in ecstasy and squeezed him hard, incapable of letting him go before I came. My move got an animalistic growl out of him, as he moved faster and faster. I could see I had brought him closer, almost on the brink of release.

 

I looked at him as I squeezed harder, watching him come undone, seeing the pleasure in his eyes. He tried to last, he tried to refuse himself the pleasure for the moment, but I didn’t let it happen. I reached with my hands and pulled my ass, letting him see the view I was giving him. Then I squeezed again, rhythmically, as he pushed and pulled. I felt him jerk, his body going stiff, as he pushed his cock as deep as he could and let it release inside me. He closed his eyes and bent his head back, consumed with pleasure.

 

Feeling his hot cum filling me, I felt the edges of my orgasm coming together. I reached a hand between my legs and rubbed my clit shamelessly. He saw that and took over. He pulled out for a second, just to suck my clit furtively, then pushed his still hard cock back inside to resume his expert touch.

 

He managed to get me moaning uncontrollably, unable to string a coherent thought in my mind. My whole body was focused on our bodies joining together, on his seed dripping out of me as he pushed again and again, bringing me closer to climax.

 

His finger touched a spot on my clit that made my body jerk and rendered my lungs useless. I managed a high-pitched squeal before I felt my body stiffen and waves of ecstasy release from my core. For several long moments, I forgot where or who I was; the only thing I knew was the source of this sublime pleasure: him.

 

He closed my mouth, which remained agape from my orgasm, with a passionate kiss, as he pulled out. I reached with shaky hands and caressed his muscles, my eyes still lost in the moment, my body still jerked by a stray ripple of pleasure. I could see his skin reacting to my touch, as my fingers left a trail of goose bumps behind. He collapsed on top of me, his head cradled in the nook of my neck, his breath sending strong shivers down my spine. I whimpered and cuddled him in my arms, grateful for his mere existence.

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

It had been especially hot today and I was in terrible need of a shower. Never thought, as a preschool teacher, I would ever sweat so much at my job.

 

Feeling the water run over my body, I couldn’t help but remember last night. I smiled, eyes closed, water dripping off my pussy. The memory of his body over mine, his scent, his piercing eyes, was too strong, too fresh. I wanted him again.

 

My pussy clenched, trying to re-enact the moment we came together and I moaned. I could feel heat spreading through my body and it wasn’t from the steam surrounding me.

 

I would’ve lost myself in the moment if I weren’t so aware of the mountain of paperwork I had to finish. The fantasy was gone, but not the desire. I knew I wanted more of this man and I was intent on having it.

 

Stepping out of the shower, I dried my skin and put a light sundress on. I decided against blow-drying my hair and gathered it in a golden bun instead. Feeling refreshed, I went to make myself some lunch.

 

Deciding on a chicken salad, I thought it would be best if I had it on the front porch. Passing through the living room, I grabbed the pile of files from the coffee table, a bunch of pens and the chocolate bar I had salvaged from my purse and set up shop on the white wrought iron table outside.

 

I adjusted the cushion, then arranged the paperwork in two categories, pens neatly placed as separators and started eating. Incapable of mindlessly chewing, I couldn’t help but reach a hand for the stack that required only reading.

 

Not long into my workaholic binge, I heard a motorcycle approaching and my body reacted instinctively. The heat I felt in the shower grew fast, as if it had never settled down, and my pussy clenched at the prospect of seeing him again. I looked up, delighted to watch him end his ride, dismount and lower the zipper to his leather jacket. He ran a hand through his black hair and looked at me. I moaned. Good thing he wasn’t close enough to hear.

 

For a moment, I thought he’d come to me but his front door opened and Ginger ran towards him. He settled for smiling at me, then bent down and hugged his daughter. I smiled back, feeling a pinch of disappointment. I watched him for a few seconds. He talked to the little girl, ruffled her hair, and lifted her in the air. He looked handsome in his father role and I loved that.

 

Trying not to imagine him touching me, I resumed my work. After a few attempts, I managed to focus enough to finish the paper I was holding. My appetite was gone so I pushed the half-full salad bowl out of the way and focused on tackling the pile of papers designated for reading.

 

An error in one of the administrative forms prompted me to redo an entire file. It must’ve taken me close to an hour and I felt thirsty. I lifted my head from the paperwork and startled at the shadow cast over me.

 

“Hey there,” he greeted me, his smile melting my heart.

 

“Hey. You scared me for a moment.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

He was leaning on the pillar closest to me and, by the looks of it, he had been standing there for a while. Changed out of his riding gear, he wore a white T-shirt and faded jeans, his hands crossed over a muscular chest. I swallowed hard, unable to look away. He smiled again, probably reading my mind.

 

“Busy working, I see,” he remarked, gesturing towards the disarray of papers on the table. I nodded. “You’re working too hard. Should’ve finished your salad first.”

 

I regarded the bowl, contemplating whether to tell him he was the reason I kept losing my appetite and would probably starve soon. I didn’t have time to ponder too much on the issue.

 

“Good thing me and Ginger are planning on having a little picnic on our front lawn, then. There’s no question of not coming.”

 

I looked at him. “Me, you, and Ginger?” It was not that I didn’t comprehend his suggestion, just that my vocabulary suffered losses whenever I was around him. I felt dumb the moment I spoke and looked down, suddenly preoccupied with the way my tan sandals fit around my toes.

 

I heard him chuckle and I blushed. “Sure. The food is delicious. Ginger helped me make it.”

 

“You cook?” I blurted out and felt my face flush even more.

 

“I won’t call it cooking. Just some sandwiches and a fruit salad. Oh, and ice cream. Always ice cream,” he said, reaching for my hand.

 

I grabbed his and stood. Concerned with some mysterious and currently absent draft spreading my papers all over the neighborhood, I pulled my hand back and gathered my files in one single pile on top of which I placed the salad bowl.

 

He took my hand again and we crossed the small green patch between our adjacent houses. I saw he had already set a folding wooden table on his lawn with a cute checkered tablecloth giving it a vintage feel. The centerpiece was a huge bowl of colored fruit and, right next to it, a basket of deliciously looking croissants.

 

“You didn’t mention pastries,” I pointed out, honestly impressed.

 

“Don’t worry, I bought them,” he laughed.

 

At that moment, Ginger walked out of the house carrying some paper plates and towels and squealed at the sight of me. “Miss Bennett!”

 

“Hi, Ginger!” I reached for her load and placed it on the table. “I heard you made all these lovely things.”

 

“Not really. Daddy made them, but I helped.”

 

I had always loved her honesty. In class she seemed older than her peers and much more self-aware than the average five-year old. I smiled at her and reached to ruffle her hair.

 

“Are you joining us, Miss Bennet?”

 

I looked at her father.

 

“Yes, she is, baby. Why don’t you two sit and I’ll go get the sandwiches?”

 

“Yay!”

 

I helped Ginger in her chair, which seemed a bit too high for a child, and sat myself across the table from her. She was already reaching of a piece of fruit.

 

“Wouldn’t it be better if we waited until dessert time, honey?” I suggested, unsure of how to speak with one of my students outside the classroom.

 

She looked at me with a puzzled expression. “Daddy always lets me eat from the fruit salad.”

 

I didn't know how to respond, though I felt I should say something.

 

“Why is it better to wait?” she asked, still looking at me. I swallowed.

 

“Well, sweets make you feel full, honey. And they make you not want to eat. But fruits are not like food; they don’t give your body the same things food does, so you need to keep you tummy ready for food first, then fruit. Or ice cream. Do you understand?”

 

She nodded thoughtfully. “But fruits are still good, right?”

 

“Yes, honey. They are very good. They have good things in them, too, but we need the things in food mostly.”

 

“Mmhm. Okay, I’ll try it your way, Miss Bennett.”

 

I laughed. “Thank you, Ginger.”

 

Her father walked out of the house with a plate full of attractive sandwiches and placed it on the table.

 

“How are the girls getting along?”

 

I smiled, still uncomfortable with intruding upon his home education like I had just done. Ginger didn’t say anything but dove into the closest sandwich. He looked surprised. Sitting next to me, he waited until I chose a nice looking turkey and rye bread arrangement, then took one for himself.

 

“This is delicious!” I couldn’t help but exclaim. “Who’s responsible for this?”

 

He pointed at Ginger and she smiled with a mouthful, looking proud. I was impressed again.

 

“Thank you for this, honey. This is amazing.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Bennett. I like it best, too,” she said and reached for the last turkey and rye bread sandwich.

 

“Yes, she has a real talent in the kitchen, this one,” her father joined in.

 

“Hey, Dawson! Having a picnic, I see! Hello, Mari!” we heard from behind us.

 

One of our neighbors, a round man who, I remembered, worked as an accountant for some big corporation, approached us. He was taking his regular stroll through the neighborhood and, jovial as he was, decided to approach us.

 

“Hi, Albert. Care to join?”

 

He looked at the array of sandwiches on the plate, visibly interested, but shook his head. His eyes fell on my hands. I has holding my sandwich tightly, careful not to waste any of its goodness. “No, thank you. The old ball and chain put me on a diet, she did. Says something about my cholesterol and I believe her. Do I have a choice?” he laughed. I tried to smile back politely as Dawson stood and shook the man’s hand. “Married life is wonderful. How’s, uh… your life treating you, Mari?”

 

I blushed. The subtlety was clear as day. Trying to keep my mouth shut, I forgot to chew. The words I was trying to keep at bay were too strong for the time and place; I simply didn’t like the way I was treated just because this corner of the world felt appropriate to live by ancient standards. I wanted to get married, too, but that didn’t mean I would give up a career or settle just to stop neighbors from gossiping.

 

Thoughts began to build inside me and I was on the brink of spilling them out when Dawson, probably watching me, decided to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled over us.

“Well, I suppose you have to listen to your wife,” he said. “Too bad, though. How’s your work going?”

 

“Fine, thank you. Looking forward to a bit of vacation, if you know what I mean,” Albert replied, winking at Dawson.

 

I, for one, didn’t know what he meant, but decided against getting too involved. Dawson exchanged a couple more pleasantries with the visitor then sent him on his way swiftly. I followed his diplomacy with interest, surprised to learn he knew his way with words better than I imagined.

 

When he sat back down, he smiled at me, then looked at Ginger. His eyes widened with surprise as he saw his daughter struggling to finish another sandwich. “How did you manage that, baby?” he asked her, real interest permeating his voice.

 

“I was hungry, daddy.”

 

He looked at me as if to make me a witness to this scene. I shrugged. “She never eats that much,” he explained.

 

“Oh?” I replied, having some ideas as of why would that be, but Ginger beat me to it.

 

“Miss Bennett told me food has better things in it that are good for me and that I should not eat sweets and fruit before a meal so I can eat more food.”

 

“Is that so?” he asked, regarding me with obvious gratefulness. “And here I was thinking you didn't eat enough.”

 

“I suppose Miss Bennett knows better than you, then,” the little girl replied and we started laughing. She looked puzzled.

 

“That was the best comeback I ever heard, if you want my opinion,” I managed to say.

 

Dawson nodded, still laughing openly. Ginger’s choice of dealing with us with a shake of her head didn't help in settling the raspy cascade of laughter that had seized him.

 

I felt proud for making him happy. I wanted to thank him for accepting my intervention and his happiness made me feel more comfortable. I even dared to have another sandwich.

 

The rest of the picnic went smoother and I was sure I haven’t enjoyed myself that much in a long time. At the end, I helped carry the plates to his kitchen and he stole a kiss from me while Ginger was in the bathroom.

 

“Are you free tonight?” he whispered and my body felt his words in every fiber and cell. I nodded, already picturing our bodies together, passionately making love. He smiled and I was beginning to suspect he had a way of reading my thoughts.

 

Still blushing after our short tête-à-tête, I pulled back when Ginger walked into the kitchen. She didn’t seem to notice anything suspicious and I took advantage of them negotiating over which ice cream to eat and made my excuses to leave. He didn’t stop me but his eyes promised pleasures I couldn’t wait to have.

BOOK: Brute: The Valves MC
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