Page 31 of Chelsea’s Knight

Fuck. Me. Running.

“Sweetness, I’m clean so if you’re okay with me being bare inside of you, then I don’t need to use the condom.”

Not like I want to stop and have this conversation right now, with my cock so hard I could hammer railroad spikes into the ground, but I also wasn’t expecting our night to evolve into this, either so there’s that fact to consider.

“Canyon, less talking, more action,” she teases, throwing her arms around my shoulders to pull me down onto her where we’re chest-to-chest. “Wait, you’re still wearing far too many clothes,” she fusses when she feels the coarse material of my sweatpants pressed against her heated core.

I can’t help it; a burst of laughter bubbles from my chest because she sounds equal parts disgruntled and irrevocably horny.

Leaning back a little, I reach between us and shove my offending garment down, but she takes over, somehow using her toes to slide them down low enough I’m able to shake them completely off, joining the other discarded clothes somewhere on the bed.

Or they could be on the floor at this point, but that’s neither here nor there and at this point, I don’t give that first fuck.

“This might hurt,” I caution as I position the head of my cock at her dripping entrance.”

“Don’t care,” she pants out, using the heels of her feet against my ass to try and bring me closer.

Leaning in, I softly kiss her and reply against her lips, “Well, I do, sweetness, so we’ll do it my way, at least this time, alright?”

“Hmmph, whatever, just… do something,” she hisses, her frustration ramping up as her desire is unfulfilled.

As I slowly enter her, all but groaning as I feel her tight sheath conform itself to fit firmly around my cock, I capture one of her nipples in my mouth, flicking my tongue over the nub until it’s distended before shifting over to the other one.

Between her writhing body and my slow, constant thrusts, it takes no time before I’m buried balls deep in her.

“Fuck,” I slowly breath out, hoping to stave off my impending release which feels like it’s hovering from erupting with just a few strokes away.

“Fuck is right,” she quips, leaning up to kiss my jaw. “This has already been the best thing I’ve ever experienced,” she admits, “and you haven’t even fully moved.”

“But wait, there’s more,” I gently tease, referencing all those late-night infomercials we’ve made fun of so many times. When she starts to giggle, I strike, my hips soon pistoning in and out of her as one of my hands moves between us to stroke around her clit. When I add a swivel on the downstroke, I feel her pussy flutter and tighten as her back arches.

“Canyon!” she keens, her nails scoring down my sides, the slight bite of pain triggering my own release, causing me to bellow out her name.

Despite feeling as though I ran a marathon, I still have enough presence of mind not to collapse on her, rolling to the side instead and carrying her with me.

“Fucking phenomenal, Chelsea,” I whisper, kissing her temple.

“You got that right,” she says, her voice slurred in sleep.

“Rest, sweetness. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

“Mmmph. Whatever,” she slurs.

As she falls into dreamland, I grin, content for the first time in a very long time.

Rolling away from her, I get up, find my sweatpants, and slide them back on before I go in search of a washcloth to clean my woman up.

CHAPTERTEN

Chelsea

It amazes me how much goes into training a service dog.

We’ve been at the Black Tuxedos MC’s compound for nearly three weeks now and I finally feel a little confident when it comes to handling Smokey. I hope like hell he never has to help me, but it’s probable that it’ll happen at least once based on my medical history.

What makes me even happier, is that Nick found someone who actually trains seizure dogs, and they’re here working with me as well. They came ahead of time and went through all the dogs currently living at The Sanctuary and identified three that would be good choices to train.

Of course, Smokey chose me and the rest, as they say, is history.

---