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BABY WITH THE SAVAGE: The Motor Saints MC by Naomi West (57)


Lena

 

I’ve never had sex like I’ve had sex with Booster.

 

He’s so … rough. Commanding. Alpha.

 

And he actually makes me feel good while he’s doing it. I’ve never cum so fast from a man taking me like that, and I don’t think I ever will if I ever sleep with another. I have a feeling in the pit of my gut right beside where my pleasure pools that that won’t be the case.

 

Booster has me hooked. He has my body, I’ll have his child. We’re linked like that now.

 

He pulls out of me, and I’m so empty I could cry. I want him inside me again, riding me like a bull. There’s a delicious ache between my thighs that has them shaking as Booster stands me up. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilled in me is enough to have it running down my thighs and slicking up my flesh.

 

Bedroom. I’m not done with you yet.

 

For that, I’m grateful. I don’t want it only once. I doubt that twice is going to be enough for me. What I do know is that he keeps a hold of me while I lead him to my bedroom. I definitely need it. I don’t think I’d be able to walk on my own.

 

The feeling is both astounding and exhilarating.

 

We get to my room, and he pulls me in to kiss him again. His cock is hard and slides against my shirt, over my belly, staining my clothes with the evidence of our coupling. He practically drinks from my mouth and I moan against him, limp and weak and needy.

 

I’ve never been so, so needy.

 

Booster walks me back until my legs hit the bed. He lays me back and stares down at me.

 

My skirt’s ridden up, my lower half still exposed to him. His eyes roam over my thighs and I see how hungrily he looks at me. With my lip bitten, I spread my legs for him, leaving myself open and vulnerable. My hand … I trail it down, down to play in the mess that we’ve left of my womanhood. I arch when my fingers brush against my clit; it’s so swollen and sensitive, I bet I could cum just having him rub his thumb along it.

 

“Booster …”

 

He grins, but there’s something soft about the way he does so. He comes to me, sliding his hands under so he can tug my skirt completely off. From there, it’s the buttons of my blouse. He undoes them, one by one, until the material falls away from my body and I’m left with my bra exposed.

 

Here, he bites his lips, and I continue to play my fingers between my slick, wet lips, sighing at the continued stimulation. He tugs my bra down, making the straps slide down my shoulders and freeing my flesh.

 

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

 

I blush like I have a thousand times today, but I say nothing. I know that my voice will be shaky, and I don’t want to give away just how badly that affects me. Instead, I watch him with bated breath as he undresses himself, keeping his hungry eyes on my form as I pleasure myself for him. When he’s bare, I think he’ll go back to fucking me, but he’s taking his time now.

 

I suppose we have a lot of that, don’t we?

 

He leans over me, taking one of my breasts into his mouth. I sigh and arch against his teeth—that roughness coming back. I gasp as he suckles at it, pulling the nipple to perk between his lip. I roll my body against his and revel in the feeling of bare skin sliding against bare skin.

 

“Oh … Booster …”

 

He laves and toys with my nipple, and rocks his body against mine. His cock ruts between the lips of my sex, though he doesn’t slide in. Oddly enough, it heightens the sensation, and rock and roll my hips with his movements.

 

“Pretty little doll,” he mutters against my breast, moving to the other. “All mine.”

 

His … yes … His and only his because I can’t imagine having another man go at me like he does. Rough. Then this … slow progression that lights a fire in my belly.

 

“Booster, please. I’m going crazy …”

 

He stays suckled at my chest a little longer, and then blessedly moves up to my collarbones, my neck. As he does, he drags my hands away from my sex, leaving me untouched and aching for release.

 

He finishes undressing me, sliding my shirt off and away along with my bra. Finally, we’re both completely bare. I revel in it, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to draw him closer to me. Hungry, I kiss him, moaning against his mouth.

 

“Claim me again,” I beg him. “I need you inside me.”

 

Booster presses his mouth to mine, drowning out my moan as he sinks into me once more. An easy push, and I arch up from the bed to have him fill me again. In this position, I can wrap my legs around him, have my nails in his back, and I cling to him tightly as he starts me out on easy, fluid thrusts that gain momentum and force as he goes.

 

This is … incredible. I pant against his lips and when I’m moaning too much to kiss him properly anymore, I put my face in his neck and groan. My bed rocks against my wall, knocking into it hard, and I hope that it leaves a dent just so I have the memory of this every time I come in my room. It’s a terrible, naughty thought … But I don’t regret having it.

 

“Fuck, Lena. How’re you still so tight?”

 

I flush at his praises as I have all night. I love how gruff he is when he tells me how good I am, how amazing I feel. I hope that it makes him want to take me over and over again, with wild abandon.

 

“Ah—Booster … don’t stop …”

 

The second orgasm doesn’t come quickly, but it does come hard with Booster drilling steadily into me. And then it’s another … and Booster follows …

 

We spend the night like that. He fucks me, rolling his cock into me over and over and cumming so much I lose count. No man I’ve known has ever gone as long or as many times as he does, but by the time we’re finished, my legs are jelly, and I know that I’m too weak to even bathe properly. Not like I want to.

 

I lie beside him, sweat- and cum-covered, and finally—finally—tuckered out and too sore to continue on. Booster seems to be in the same state.

 

My thighs … God … They run wet with cum and if I’m not pregnant yet, then I know I have no issue with going and letting him have me like that every night until I am.

 

Or while I am; they say pregnant sex is amazing.

 

Booster has his arm under my head, and I curl my body into his. I worry for a moment that he’ll pull away—now that he’s gotten what he wants, in part. We’re one step closer to me carrying his child. Perhaps all the intimacy up until this point was just buttering me up for sex—

 

He wraps around me, drawing me close. I smile as a satisfied sound leaves him, and I look up to see that he’s drifting off to sleep. It’s a surprisingly cute image; this big, tough man, that’s just spent the better part of my night fucking me into a cum-filled mess, is like a child after a day of too hard play.

 

My smile deepens.

 

A child …

 

We can only hope.

 

The next morning, I wake up before Booster. I slept like a rock, and now I’m wide awake, and ready to start my day. There’s something about really, really good sex that makes a woman ready to conquer the world, and I feel like I can as I slide from my bed.

 

Oh, there’s an ache. There’s a deep-reaching ache, and it reminds me how deeply Booster has pushed inside me and spilled his seed. The thought makes me giddy, like a schoolgirl, almost, and I decide that for the sake of hygiene, I’ll take a shower, and then I’ll get my house in order.

 

Maybe I’ll make breakfast. Call my adoptive mother. Maybe I’ll go for a walk.

 

There’s a pep in my step that wouldn’t otherwise be there, waking on a weekend. I have homework to grade, and chores to do—things that aren’t fun, but I can’t find a reason to not be happy or be in a good mood.

 

I turn on some music while I work. I’m in that good of a mood. All I can think about is the way that Booster had taken me the night before, and how many more times he’ll take me. I want it every night like that I want—

 

Booster. That’s what I want.

 

The thought is only a little sobering, as I know that Booster likely won’t want anything permanent with me. But if we’re having a baby together, won’t there be some … co-parenting?

 

Hm.

 

I feel like a teenager, having made the choice to screw around before actually thinking about the consequences of my actions. I worry my lip between my teeth.

 

What if Booster wants nothing to do with me after? He can’t just take the baby from me, right? It’s not like a donor situation. This is my child.

 

This turn of thought makes me pensive as I continue to clean, and I’m in deep thought by the time Booster comes down.

 

“Someone’s way too perky for mornings,” he grumbles. He’s definitely not a natural-born morning person, and the vison of him up at this hour when I know he’s not used to it would be amusing if I didn’t have something serious that I wanted to talk to him about.

 

Funny how responsibilities ruin fun.

 

As soon as he hits the bottom of the stairs, I spring on him.

 

“We need to talk,” I tell him. He blinks at me, almost as if he’s delirious. but mostly because it’s too early for him and he’s not used to serious conversations happening.

 

“Um… Right. What about?”

 

I nod him into my living room, where we sit on the couch. He groans a little, stiff, but I force my thoughts to not wander to why he’s stiff in the first place. That’s not what this conversation is about.

 

“I wanted to ask … If I get pregnant … how much of a role am I going to have in this baby’s life?” I cut right to the chase. “Will I have it and you just take it and leave? Will I help raise it? What you—”

 

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down.” He blinks and scrubs his hands down his face, I think trying to wake himself up a little more for the conversation at hand. “What makes you think you’re not going to be in this baby’s life? I want a kid; a kid needs a mother. It’s why I chose you, a teacher, a good woman, to be the mother of my child. If I just wanted some dumb surrogate, I could have fucked a baby into a club girl years ago.”

 

Okay. At least he’s straightforward.

 

“Right. Okay.”

 

“Were you actually worried that you wouldn’t be a mother?”

 

I stare at him for a moment, my brows furrowed.

 

“Honestly? The thought occurred to me. Especially since we haven’t really talked logistics outside of … my personal life won’t be disrupted while we’re trying, and I’m not supposed to sleep with other men. Which, I think is a given, but whatever.” I laugh a little. “It’s just. I really, honestly … would love to be a mother, and I had a small fear that once everything was said and done, I wouldn’t be able to get that because this was initially something that was for you.”

 

Booster stares at me pensively for a moment. I think he’s still trying to wake up, which I understand. I allow him these moments to compose himself and figure out what he’s trying to say when he scoots a little closer to me.

 

“I knew that you wanted kids. When I chose you,” he says. “Remember, I was watching … You don’t realize, but you have this look on your face when you watch other the students coming and going from the school, and when you’re talking about your classes. You’re passionate about kids. So there’s no way in hell that I would keep you from ours.”

 

I like the way that he says ‘ours’ too much. I like the way that he admits watching me and understanding me even more than that. I like that I’m being given the chance to have a child—unconventional as it is—way too much.

 

But I do. I can’t deny it, and I can’t deny that I believe everything that Booster’s telling me. Maybe it’s just because I want it bad. Maybe Booster’s just … Maybe we’re …

 

I lean forward, kissing him. He kisses me back easily, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me closer to him still. I find myself growing weak for him, and I sigh against his mouth.

 

“Hey. Come help me make breakfast,” I tell him. “I want to know how you fry eggs so well …”

 

He laughs, and stands up with me.

 

We spend the day together. He helps me make breakfast and clean up after, as well as clean up the rest of my house. We’d have gotten done in record time … But Booster is easily distracted when I’m in nothing but my underwear. We end up having sex again, first in the living room, then in the hall, eventually making our way to my room. After, we bathe together … which just leads to more sex.

 

In this weekend, I’ve had more sex than I think I’ve ever had in my life. Booster has stamina and just … keeps on going. And going. I can’t say that I’m complaining, however. I’m not. I love the way he can just take me and take me, cum inside me, and still be hard to go again.

 

By Sunday, I’m addicted; I know I am. There’s no way that I can’t be, and in all honesty? I don’t really mind, if it’s Booster’s cock that I’m addicted to.

 

I’m addicted to him.

 

Sunday also brings my car, and the reminder that another school week starts. I’ll be driving myself to and from school again, and I won’t have Booster to myself for hours and days on end. It leaves a little feeling of melancholy when he leaves my home. I stand on the porch and watch him as he walks down toward his bike. He waves to me when he’s on and also after his helmet is on. I spare him one in return, waving back to him, wanting him to come back and take me up in his arms, sweeping me back inside to have at me again.

 

I’ve got it. Bad. And there’s nothing that I can do to stop it.

 

Not like I want to, anyway.