Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance(192)

Fourteen months later





I laughed, fumbling in the dark for his belt.

“Fuck I’m starving,” Clutch said, pushing me back. “Forget that. I want this sweet *.”

“Shh,” I said. “You’ll wake Ryan up.”

“I think you’re the one who needs to work on being quiet.” He pushed me back onto the bed, and I landed, giggling, as he pulled down my panties, tossing them aside.

His lips found my neck, kissing me softly, his hands between my legs, working my soaked clit. “I think about this all f*cking day long,” he said in my ear.

“Me too,” I whispered.

His lips moved down my neck and down my breasts. He dropped down onto his knees and spread my legs wide, his mouth pressed against my clit.

Pleasure rocked through me as he began to suck my clit, licking me and eating me ferociously. It’d been almost a day since he’d last touched me like this, and that was too long. Clutch had been out on a job with the club, and I had been back at home taking care of our little son, Ryan. He was four months old, and it was a miracle when we could get him down for a nap. Ryan was just like his daddy, full of energy.

But I wasn’t thinking about that. Instead, the only thing I could think about was Clutch working my * as pleasure rolled through me in waves. Whenever he was gone for a while, he always came home and rewarded me with this, making me come so easily with his mouth. He licked and sucked me, his tongue rolling down my skin and pressing inside me.

“Clutch,” I moaned, trying not to be loud. I grabbed a pillow and bit down on it, afraid of making more noise.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “Nothing sexier than you biting a f*cking pillow.” He went back to work with serious enthusiasm, his tongue rolling around my clit, sucking and licking it.

He pressed his fingers deep inside my * the way I loved. That never got old. He was just so damn skilled at what he did. Clutch masterfully worked my body, his strong hands pressing against me, his fingers f*cking my *, his tongue working my clit in circles.

I writhed, moaning into the pillow. I began to roll my hips against his mouth, working into his speed and rhythm, losing myself. Any stress of raising an infant melted away instantly under Clutch’s touch. He was incredible and could make me feel good no matter what the day was like.

His fingers worked me faster, harder, his tongue and lips sucking expertly. My hips rolled as his fingers f*cked me, working my body, his mouth incredible. Pleasure rocked me, rolling through me body, wiping out my mind.

There was only Clutch. Ever since my fake wedding, my bloody, red wedding, there had only been Clutch. He’d claimed me that day and never let me go, and I never wanted him to leave.

My * was ringing like a bell as he worked me, and I could feel that I was on the edge of an orgasm. He was so skillful and easily brought me to that spot every time, like he could read my body like a map.

His fingers worked, pressing deep inside me, f*cking me in and out. His tongue kept licking, working, sucking my clit, and I came, my whole body stiffening.

I had to press the pillow down into my face as my body tensed, unable to make myself stay silent as the orgasm washed over me in big, heavy waves. I came and came hard into his mouth, and he kept licking and sucking me, savoring my taste.

Slowly it passed, and he gave me one long, last lick before rocking back onto his heels.

“Shit,” I panted. “Okay, that never gets old.”

He sucked his fingers. “Same to you, princess. I could eat that * all day every day.”

I smiled at him. “You basically do already.”

“Can you blame me?”

I laughed and pulled him on top of me, kissing him deep and hard. He returned my kiss, and I could feel his thick, big cock pressing against me, hard as hell in his jeans.

“And now do I owe you something?” I asked him.

“You owe me nothing,” he grunted, “but I’d love it if you let me f*ck you until you had to bite down on that pillow again.”

I smiled, biting my lip, and felt a thrill run through me again. “Okay. I think I can handle that.”

But just then, the sound of a crying baby came from the other room.

It completely deflated us. “Shit,” I said. “I’ll get him.”

“No,” Clutch said, standing. “I got it. You relax.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, but he was already leaving the room.

I sighed, leaning back. I heard him talking softly to Ryan as he picked him up, cooing to him softly.

I smiled to myself. I’d never pictured Clutch as a father. I also never imagined he’d want to marry me, but pretty much a few weeks after he’d claimed me, he put a ring on my finger. I touched the diamonds and smiled softly at the memory.

Then, of course, I got pregnant a few weeks after that. Things moved so fast, but that was how it was with Clutch. He moved forward and never thought about looking back, and I loved it. Things were never boring with Clutch and the Demons.

After I heard I was pregnant, Clutch went and bought us a little house. It was a bit outside the city, set back in the woods, and not too far from where Ford and Caralee lived. We spent a lot of time with those two, since they were raising children themselves.

It was ideal. I couldn’t have imagined anything better. And to top it all off, Clutch was a great father, probably because he wanted to make up for the fact that his parents weren’t there for him.