Wild Like the Wind (Chaos #5)(13)

And again he almost came in his pants.

Instead, he reached long to his nightstand.

“No condom,” she breathed. “Just you, baby.”

“Condom,” he grunted, tugging open the drawer.

“Hound, I’ve got it covered so just you and me.”

He gave her his attention and landed a hand sharp on her other cheek.

She quivered visibly.

Fuck, she was undoing him.

“Stay like that,” he ordered, pulling at his belt, undoing his fly, yanking down his jeans, feeling the sweet relief of his dick springing free, watching her the whole time, her cheek in his bed, ass in the air, red from his spankings, the print of his hand marking her … both sides.

And he watched her watch him with a need that drew her beautiful features tight as he rolled on the condom.

“Hurry, honey, fuck me,” she begged.

He moved around, positioned, grunted, “Spread,” and watched her do it, his dick jerking. He then grasped her hip in one hand, his cock in the other. He positioned and then thrust in, watching her pussy take him, her body sway with the force of his drive, and he was buried to the root in Keely.

He closed his eyes at the flawless agony of having her wet tight all around, and he couldn’t have stopped it if he’d tried when he mounted her, fucking her rough and fast and deep, curving his body over hers, hand in the bed beside her, face in her neck, buried in her hair, listening up close to her excitement, to what he was doing was giving to her, how much she got off on it, as he dove his other hand between her legs and worked her.

Relentless.

It took everything out of him to hold it back as he pushed her through her second orgasm, her third, then heard her beg for him to stop.

“Too much, baby. Too much, Hound. I’m coming apart,” she whispered.

So he pushed her to her fourth and went with her.

It was savage. There wasn’t a woman he’d fuck that hard and that rough.

And there was not a woman that had made him come that powerfully, making him feel his cum didn’t drain from his balls, but from his goddamned soul.

His face was shoved deep in her neck, his cock buried deep in her pussy, his breath coming fast and uneven, when he came back to Keely on his dirty sheets in his shitty bed in his ratty-ass apartment.

It was all he had left to pull out, fall to his back and lift his hips to hike up his jeans.

He didn’t do them up. He didn’t even fully tuck his cock inside.

He stared at the ceiling wondering how in the fuck he’d let that happen.

He’d fucked another brother’s old lady.

He’d fucked Dutch and Jag’s momma.

He’d fucked Keely.

Before he could get his shit together to do whatever he had to do to talk that out with her, get her ass out the door and make plans never to see her face again, she rolled into him and did not hesitate even a second to dive her hand inside his jeans and cup his balls like they were hers to claim.

His eyes slid to her.

“That was not smart,” he growled.

“Wrong,” she returned, giving him a squeeze that made him grunt and honest to fuck, his cock wasn’t even soft yet and it started to get hard as a rock. “What it was, Shepherd ‘Hound’ Ironside is about fucking time.”

“Keely—”

Her hand stayed latched to his boys, she lifted up and her other hand yanked up his tank. “Mama’s gonna take care of you this time,” she whispered, putting her mouth to his chest.

“Keely—” he bit out.

She bit his nipple and threw a leg over him, straddling him and moving her hand to stroke his dick over the spent condom.

Fucking hell, the bitch was in heat.

“Quiet, Hound, got work to do,” she muttered against his skin.

“Woman—” he started, but it was another grunt because she was tugging at him hard.

Her head came up and her beautiful eyes in her flushed face were lazy and excited and hungry and goddamn it, he started fucking her hand.

She grinned.

He let out a muted roar, pulled free but only to roll to seat himself at the edge of the bed, dragging her belly down across his lap.

“Spread your goddamn legs when I spank you,” he ordered roughly.

She complied immediately.

So that was when Shepherd “Hound” Ironside taught a latent biker mama an important lesson.

And it would be a tough call to say who got off on it more.



He was on all fours, neck bent, watching himself fuck her face, watching more how much she got off on it, feeling her nails digging into the crack in his ass, when he couldn’t take anymore, pulled out and dragged her up under him.

“I’m on the Pill,” she gasped.

“You take me gloved,” he bit out, reaching for the fourth time to his nightstand.

“Next time, you better have been tested,” she groused.

He wasn’t thinking about the next time.

He was tearing a wrapper off a condom.

He got it on and then buried it.

When he was up in her to the hilt, her back arched off the bed, hitting his chest.

He dropped down and pounded her.

“I want top this time,” she panted.

“Nope,” he declined.

“Baby, no fair, you’ve had top every time.”