For the third night in a row, I’m back at the Sinners’ clubhouse and on my way to Echo’s bed.
“Livvy.” His voice is full of command, and I reach for him, my skin tingling and desperate for his touch. Warm fingers wrap around the back of my neck, his thumb grazing back and forth over the pulse point. He guides me through the bar. My panties are soaked with arousal, and my heart races. I count the steps till we’re alone.
Several sets of eyes follow our progress, but instead of the lascivious looks I got the first night, there are respectful nods.
His grip on my neck tightens. “You’re my old lady now,” he says. I nod, and understanding dawns on me. To this brotherhood of men, being an old lady elevates me above the women just here to get fucked. Being an old lady makes me significant, a part of this life, a part of the club.
Opening his door, he urges me through before shutting and locking it behind us. His room’s tidy and impersonal, clinical almost. The last two times I’ve been here I’ve been too angry and filled with lust to really take notice.
“Do you live here all the time?” I ask. His eyebrows lift in surprise, and I shrug. “I don’t know anything about you. It’s not like we’ve done a lot of talking the last few days.”
He chuckles lightly. Reaching out, he collars my neck, his thumb stroking the skin on my cheek, and says, “I live here most of the time, but I’ve got a house just outside of town. I don’t use it that much, too quiet.”
Unexpected tears well in my eyes. His answer is much more telling than he realises. “Do you have any family in town?” I ask. He narrows his eyes, his hand falling from my neck, and he shakes his head. “Do you have any family anywhere?” I swallow down the emotion in my voice.
His eyes narrow and darken. “What’s with the twenty questions, sugar?” His voice is harsh, and I flinch at the accusation in his tone.
I stiffen and blurt out. “I’m just trying to get to know you a little better. Is that a problem?”
Suspicious eyes focus on me, searching my face. “You still sore, Livvy?” he questions, as heat starts to smoulder in his green depths.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be okay.”
He nods then fire burns in his eyes. “How ’bout we play a little game.” A cunning smile twitches at his lips, and straightening to his full height, he’s in complete control again. He towers over me, intimidating me, and I bite my lip nervously.
“Wh‐what game?” I stutter and instinctively step back as he watches me, his eyes narrowed in amusement. He steps forward, and I retreat, caught in a game of cat and mouse where I’m the prey. My back hits the wall; there’s nowhere left to run. He keeps moving till his chest pushes up against mine, and leaning in, he dominates my mouth, kissing me till I’m breathless.
“How ’bout this, sugar, a nice easy game. For every question I answer, you do something for me in exchange,” he drawls seductively.
“That seems like it works more in your favour than it does in mine,” I say nervously.
He laughs, his fingers absentmindedly caressing the swell of my breast. “Okay, well, how ’bout this. You ask me a question; I’ll ask you to do something. But I guarantee by the end of the game you’ll be enjoying yourself.”
I duck under his arm and dart across the room, putting the bed between us. “Okay, Biker Boy, game on.”
A loud laugh bursts from him, and I grin in response. Resting his back against the wall, he crosses his legs at the ankle, relaxed. “Okay then, sugar, ask away.”
Full of cocky confidence, I stand tall, my hands on my hips, and say with a smirk, “I already asked my question. Where’s your family?”
Echo’s arms are crossed across his chest, he tenses, the action so small I could have imagined it. “My folks had me when they were older. We didn’t get along that well, and they passed away a few years back. I’ve got an older sister that’s settled and living in Florida with her husband and a couple of kids. We don’t speak much.” His voice is monotone and emotionless, but the torment in his eyes betrays him. I want to go to him, to comfort him, but then the storm in his eyes clears and my alpha biker is back.
He rubs his hands together, straightens, and takes a single step closer. “My turn, sugar.” His eyes scan my body head to toe, and he bites his lip while he thinks. “I wanna see that ass. Come here, turn round, and bend over. Palms flat on the bed.”
Slowly, I sashay around the bed. Turning away from Echo, I look back over my shoulder, my skin tingling in anticipation. Slowly, I bend forward, watching him as he watches me. My palms reach the mattress, and I pause, my eyes still locked with Echo’s. The silence is filled with sexual tension. I wait for him to pounce, but he doesn’t move.
When it’s clear he isn’t going to, I ask, “Is Echo your real name?”
“No, ma’am, my mama christened me Foster Michael Stubbs, but I haven’t answered to anything but Echo in years.” His voice sounds distant, even though he’s only a few steps away.
“Foster,” I speak out loud without realizing. “Hmm, I think Echo suits you better. How did you get the nickname Echo?”
He smiles and says. “When I first joined the Sinners, I was straight out of the army. I was used to takin’ orders, so when one of the guys asked me to do something, I answered ‘Yes, sir.’ They thought it was so fucking funny, said I was like an echo. It stuck, and I’ve been Echo ever since.”
He chuckles at the memory before warm hands land on my hips. Startled, I jump, and his fingers slide around my waist and slowly unbutton my shorts. He’s close enough I can feel the heat from his skin, but not quite touching me. “It’s all about this ass today, baby. Let’s slip these shorts off.” His voice is a low growl now, and he peels the shorts and panties down my legs. I groan when his hot breath hits my exposed skin. Lifting my legs one at a time, he frees my shorts and drops them to the floor behind us.
Hands grab my arse cheeks, squeezing tightly, spreading me slightly. “Ummm, this ass,” he groans. I feel his loss when he releases me and steps back. I rub my thighs together and squeeze my internal muscles to quell the ache of desire.
Desperation laces my voice. “How old are you?” I ask breathily.
“I’m thirty-five. How ’bout you?”
“Twenty-five.”
He’s close behind me, not quite touching, but so close I know if I pushed back slightly my arse would hit his crotch. Shivering, I groan as his hot breath caresses a path down my spine and across my heated sex. “Clothes off, sugar, then back into position.” It’s an order, and all pretence of the game is gone. He’s in charge, and I’m a willing pawn desperately doing what he tells me to.
I quickly comply, ripping my shirt off until I’m naked and panting, desperate for his next command. “So submissive. I love that about you. So eager to do what I tell you.” His words are laced with his smoky southern accent, and my pussy throbs, arousal so heavy that one touch from him would have me screaming.
“What’s your question? Or are you bored of this game now?” he asks.
I close my eyes and gulp a deep, calming breath. “Er, how long have you been with the club?” I force the words out of my dry throat, and I can hear my own desperation.
He’s playing with me; I can sense his amusement and hear the obvious smile in his voice. “I joined the Sinners straight out of the army, so ’bout seven years ago.”
I hear his words, but I’m so consumed with desire that I fidget, rising onto and falling from my tiptoes. “Echo, please,” I beg.
“Spread those legs wide, sugar, let me see you.”
I push my legs wide and drop onto my elbows. Arching my back, I push my bottom high in the air. “Do you enjoy telling me what to do, Echo?” I ask, already knowing the answer but need to hear him tell me.
He chuckles, low and raspy. Arousal gushes from me and drips slowly down my legs. “I fucking love it. Just like you do, Livvy. I fucking love that when I tell you to touch yourself, you won’t think about it. You’ll just reach your hand between your legs and fuck yourself with your fingers.”
My forearms are braced against the bed, and dropping my cheek against the mattress, I free one hand. The ache in my pussy pools in my stomach. My fingers easily slide into my soaked sex, and I groan with relief. “Oh God,” I cry. Pulling out, I circle my clit, shuddering, so close to release.
“Fuck, you’re soaked. Are you okay? Not too sore?” His voice is laced with desire, and I frantically shake my head and groan in response. I don’t see him move, but I feel his lips against my arse cheek, kissing me quickly and warm against my skin.
“Now two, baby. I wanna see you fuck your fingers,” he orders. Pushing two fingers back inside, I stroke my internal walls, the flesh soft and warm. “Harder,” he demands, and I push deeper, curling upwards.
“Ahhh,” I cry, driving my fingers in and out.
I start to tense, my orgasm rising. “Harder, sugar, I want you to fuck those fingers like they’re my cock.” His voice is hard and unyielding. Adding a third finger, I arch my back and bounce up and down on my own hand, chasing my release.
“Stop.” His gruff voice halts me.
“No, no, no,” I gasp.
Strong fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my fingers free and placing my hand palm down on the bed. Lifting my head, I start to argue, but he turns me, gently pressing my cheek against the mattress.
A second later, his hot, wet tongue laps from my clit to my arsehole, and I twitch, almost overwhelmed with sensation. Large fingers plunge inside me, and the force pushes me further onto the bed. “Fuck my hand, sugar, make yourself come,” he demands.
Arching my back, I push further onto his fingers. I roll forward then plunge back on him, pushing his hand deeper into my soaked pussy. “That’s it, sugar, you’re so wet. You want more, harder, don’t you?” His words vibrate through me, and I groan in response and bounce on his fingers faster. His spare hand rests at the top of my arse cheeks, circling as I fuck his hand like a dildo.
Eyes closed tightly, I feel the circling on my arse stop and his thumb pushes against my lips. “Open up,” he says. I part my lips, and his thumb pushes into my mouth. “Suck,” he orders. “Get it nice and wet, Livvy.”
I suck his thumb, swirling my tongue against his salty skin. “Good girl.” The praise in his Southern drawl makes me tingle. Pulling his thumb from my mouth, he drags it between my arse cheeks and circles my sensitive opening, coating it with my saliva.
I flinch. “Echo,” I say nervously.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good and come so hard, I promise,” he assures me. He pushes the tip of his thumb against the tight muscle, and I shudder, attacked by a barrage of sensations.
Hot, painful, tingling hurt powers my release towards completion. “Anyone ever taken you here, sugar?” he asks. I thrash against his fingers and shake my head. I feel his smile when his lips touch my shoulders and kiss a path down my spine. “This belongs to me, Livvy. I’m gonna take it knowing I’m the first and only person who’ll ever get the pleasure of feeling how tight your virgin ass is.”
“Echo, please, please,” I beg, my desperation for release all-consuming. The fingers inside me curl, hitting my G spot, and I arch back, pushing his finger further into my arse.
“Rub your clit, sugar, come for me,” he demands.
The kaleidoscope of sensations is too much. My fingers find my clit and my orgasm explodes.
Echo roughly pulls his fingers from my pussy and impales me with his hard cock. My hands twist the fabric of the duvet tightly as he thrusts into me, my body sparking to life again as his hips drive forward and he eases his finger still further into my arse. My sensitive flesh grips his cock as he slides out till only the head is still buried inside me. Again and again he plunges into my pussy, the sharp edge of pain from his finger in my arse forcing my orgasm upwards. Hard and deep, the double penetration heightens the sensation. My skin pulses, every nerve ending hypersensitive.
“Echo. Oh God. No, no. Don’t stop, don’t stop.” I moan incoherently, the movement from his fingers and cock pushing me closer to the edge. “Oh fuck, ahhhhh.”
I detonate, fireworks exploding behind my eyes, and my whole body clenches as I scream in euphoria.