Page 55 of Devil's Due: Sarge

“Fuck, baby,” he grumbles, and I tongue another swirl. Then I move to suck on his balls. The sound he makes from that is indescribable. But I know he likes it the way he shifts to push his balls deeper into my mouth.

Giving head is powerful. I’m the one in charge, controlling when and how he gets off. And I keep at him, moving back to his cock, going the pace I set, not the one he tries to force me into by thrusting up his pelvis. He writhes, fisting the sheet in his hands. His strong jaw tense, his eyes squeezed shut. The muscles in his stomach constrict and his cock has swelled when there’s a knock on the door.

I stop. That has to be the prospect with our food.

“Don’t you dare stop,” he barks. Now his eyes are open and he’s staring me down, showing me the pain of how badly he needs this to go to completion. I nod and go back at him. “Don’t… you… open… that… door,” he shouts his panting words to the prospect. This is so humiliating. That prospect knows damn well what’s going on in this room. Still, I love Sarge and he deserves this. I take him all the way one last time and grind my mouth.

His cock explodes at the same time he shouts, “Fuuuuck!”

Maybe love makes the difference… on whether or not you swallow. Or maybe it just makes the difference for me. I wipe my mouth and chin with the inside of the T-shirt then fold his underwear back into place.

With his chest still heaving, he reaches to haul me up the bed. I move before he bends too far. “Stitches,” I remind him.

“Don’t care,” he replies. “Come ’ere.” He presses his lips to mine then positions me so that my head rests on his non-injured shoulder and he wraps his arm around my waist. Once he flips the comforter back over us, he shouts, “Now you can come in.”

The door opens as if the prospect stood there the whole time listening to me blowing my man. I feel my face heat.

“Damn,” the prospect says to Sarge while dropping the food bags on the bedside table. “Can’t wait ’til I get my patch. I can get pussy like her.”

“Boy, you’ll never get a woman like her.” When the kid’s face falls, he goes on, “Because she’s one of a kind.”

That’s really very sweet. I’m still embarrassed as all hell. As soon as the kid leaves this room, he’ll be spreading the word about me blowing Sarge to all and sundry. Bikers like to gossip. People say women like to gossip, and most probably do, but they don’t come close on a whole to bikers.

The kid heads for the door, but before leaving, he turns to me, waggling his eyebrows and says, “Bye, Greer.” Then he winks. Ew… creepy.

“That was uncomfortable,” I admit.

“Baby, that just made you a legend. Not a man in this club aside from Vlad who won’t envy me having you in my bed.”

“I think you fare better in their eyes than I do.”

“Bullshit.” His tone is startling. “Woman as sweet and beautiful as you. Intelligent. All that’s you and you take care of me the way I need to be taken care of. Those men have nothing but respect for you. Bikers like to fuck, that’s no secret.Ilike to fuck the right woman. And all I have to do is ask.”

“Do women grumble about that?”

“Bitches—club whores—they’re here for the sole purpose of fucking and sucking cock, but classy women like you…” He lets his thought trail off, swallowing.

I feel his words. “Let’s eat,” I say instead of responding, because I don’t know what to say that won’t reveal too much.

“Yeah, I’m ready to eat.” But when I push up to get the bags, he tags my shirt, pulling me over to him. “Apparently, you didn’t get my meaning, baby.”

“Huh?”

“Take off your underwear and sit on my face.”

Oh my god.

“Baby,” he says, but it’s really an order. I contemplate in my head if I can really do it—sit on his face. Like most women, I like oral sex—no,love, love is more the word. But it’s calledgoing downfor a reason.

“Greer.” He’s getting antsier. Okay… all right… I strip off my panties and crawl up to sit by his head, facing the headboard. After taking in a long breath, I let it out and move to straddle his face. Sarge clamps his arms around my thighs and drags me down until I feel him against my center. My head falls back and I hang on to the headboard for dear life. His teeth are a miracle. His lips angelic. But his tongue is the devil doing all the bad things in the best possible ways. I’m dying, being brought back to life and then dying all over again with every lick, nip, and stroke.

When I grind down, he growls and I feel his “yes” whispered against my clitoris. He has no idea what yes means. Not until he’s felt this. My heart begins to race. I can’t take in a breath. And then every muscle in my body seizes up right before the sonic ripple sweeps through me from hair to toenails, sweeping me away to a land of sunshine and rainbows and… I don’t know, butterflies or whatever. Someplace magical. Definitely magical.

Once the orgasm leaves me, it takes every bit of fortitude left in me to lift my leg from around him, but I can’t stay upright any longer. I came so hard, I’m on the verge of passing out and fear I’ll suffocate the man if I don’t move.

Back under the covers next to him, I watch Sarge lick his lips clean then use the sheet to get the rest.

“Give me a minute to reach the bags,” I say, still completely breathy, like I sound like I’ve been running a 5K.

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