Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(76)

Pressing one hand between my legs, his fingers lifted underneath the waistband to my panties. He cupped my mound, squeezed, and I nearly lost it on the spot.

“Oh, God! Jackson!” I sputtered.

“Fuck, yeah. Give it up for me, Missus Taylor.”

Holy shit. Missus Taylor.

Hearing him whisper my new last name through sheer lust lit my brain on fire.

The next couple minutes were a blur as he kissed me, teased my clit with his thumb, so long and hard I couldn't help but grind against it.

“Fuck my fingers. You get this tongue when I know you really want it.”

“Yes,” I moaned. “Please!”

“Not good enough, Summertime. Make. Me. Believe.” His dense, hazel eyes drilled through mine. “I can't hear you, girl. I'm deaf, or you ain't begging hard enough.”

Oh, hell.

I twisted against him, biting my lip when he pushed my hips back, every time I tried to buck back against him a little tighter. Snarling, he grabbed my hands, twisted them above my head, and pinned them down.

The delicious torture must've went on for at least a solid minute before I started to tremble, moaning all the way.

His lips covered mine. His tongue pushed through, taking mine, taking me over.

PROPERTY OF JOKER, my new tattoo said. I finally felt it, all the way down to my very soul, just kissing, teasing, and surrendering to the beast on top of me.

When he'd finally had enough, he stood up, lifting away my panties with a final jerk of his hand. “Stand up,” he growled, taking my hands and placing them on him.

He moved my fingers, helping me undress him. Withering need coursed through me. I had to press my thighs together while he held me by the wrist, smiling as I helped him out of his cut, his shirt, and then his jeans.

Boxers went down. His cock sprang out in my hand. Angry, pulsing, and alive.

Two could play at this teasing game. I wrapped my fingers around it, barely edging the tip of his cock with my tongue.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah,” he growled, looking down when he felt me stop. “What the f*ck?”

“Make me believe you want it,” I said, smiling sweetly. I kissed the head for good measure, my lips passing right across the stud in his swollen tip.

“Suck it, babe. I want my f*ckin' wedding present, and I want it now. Not gonna ask again.”

“No?” I said, keeping my lips away this time, blowing hot air across his swollen shaft. “Not even one more time?”

It twitched in my hand, tempting me so much, but still I held back. I loved it when he got mad.

Loved it, because it was a one way ticket to getting f*cked twice as hard.

He lasted about five brutal seconds. Then Joker grabbed my hair, fisted it, and shoved my face down on his cock. I opened wide, taking every inch of him, pulling him along my tongue.

I moaned. I sucked. I worked his cock like my life depended on it, or at least my next orgasm.

His next few growls were pure satisfaction. His fingers tugged a little tighter as his pleasure built, twining my hair together in tiny knots.

Perfect, really. It mirrored everything I felt inside.

Every ache and need and want wrapped up in this man. My badass, my husband, my savior.

“Fucking shit,” he swore, jamming my mouth down harder on his dick.

I sucked him better still, tasting the salty pre-come oozing out along my tongue. It always brought me a strange satisfaction, wherever it ended up inside me.

I doubted he'd let me take it down my throat, though. And I was right.

“No, no, f*ck no,” he said, jerking my face off him by the hair. “Stand up, Summertime. You know the rules.”

“Do I?” I asked, taking his hands. He violently jerked me up, spun me around, and pushed me past the bed.

He didn't say anything until I was against the wall, his swollen cock against my ass cheeks, kissing at my neck. “Yeah, you f*ckin' do,” he growled, nipping at my sensitive skin. “Your mouth, your ass, your tits don't get my come 'til you're knocked up again. I'm spilling every drop I got in that hot little cunt, poundin' it straight to your womb. Alex needs a little bro, a little sis, maybe f*ckin' triplets.”

Fuck! I moaned loudly, enough to get his hand across my lips.

He moved it down when I'd stopped making noise, cupping my breast, sinking to his knees. His free hand pulled my * open from behind, stretching its lips, making way for his hungry tongue.

Oh, Joker. Oh, Jackson. Oh, shit, shit, shit.

My knees began trembling as soon as he started to lick. His tongue f*cked me, straight up, edging along the most sensitive spots he'd be taking with his cock next.

He held me up, just enough so I could rest on his face, closing my eyes. I reached out behind me, clawing for his shoulders, losing it while I fell into total bliss.

He growled through his licks, pulling my clit into his mouth, strumming it with his tongue like never before.

Countdown.

Ignition.

Launch.

I went off like a rocket. He brought me off, so hot and intense and cataclysmic that I'd never come like that in my life.

I barely held in my screams. Joker wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me against his mouth, savaging me with ecstasy through the next few mind blowing minutes.

When it was over, I was still shaking, dripping on the floor. He licked and kissed softly at my inner thigh, rising up, bringing more kisses up my back.