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Possessive: A Bad Boy Second Chance Motorcycle Club Romance (Sons of Chaos MC) by Kathryn Thomas (31)


“Leo, my darling,” the woman’s deep, husky voice floated above the sound of the music. “Come back to bed and have another sip.”

 

Leo growled, annoyed at her whining and nagging. “No,” he seethed, “I’m done.”

 

The woman, with her tan skin and jet black long hair that just barely covered her exposed breasts, stood up from her spot on the king sized bed. A bottle of vodka was in one hand and two crystal tumblers in another. She walked slowly, as if in a dream, allowing Leo to watch every inch of her body move and bounce gently with her gliding steps.

 

“I'm going to pour two glasses full of this—” she held up the purple and clear bottle to the light and studied the label. With a small, knowing smirk she turned back to him and continued, “—this very expensive bottle of vodka. If you care to join me, then you may have the second glass. If not, I'll drink both all by my lonesome. But in either case, I want you to crawl between my legs and fuck me like you’ll never fuck again for the rest of your life.” Her face contorted into a somewhat pout with her faded red matte lips puffing out and her dark brown eyes deepening.

 

His irritation of her battled with his urge to pin her down and fuck her until she screamed. Finally he reached out a hand. “Shut the fuck up and hand me the damn glass.” He slid to the end of the large, Jacuzzi tub where she stood overlooking him. His arm outstretched, demanding that she comply.

 

“Nah, ah, ah, Mr. Lionheart. Not until you say the magic words.” She slid into the water next to him and straddled her long, silky legs around his waist beneath the bubbling water. Her stomach rested against his as she took a sip from the tumbler, leaving her lips moist and glistening..

 

“What the fuck did you call me?” He hadn’t allowed anyone to call him that in over two years now. This bitch crossed a line..

 

“Mr. Lionheart. That’s who you are, isn’t it? A king in the ring. What was your slogan? ‘Roar so loud it shook a nation?’ God, that was so corny, but...” She slithered closer to him, tracing her red painted fingers up and down the nape of his neck and outlining the lion tattoo on his chest. “You’re the wildest man alive.”

 

Leo grimaced. She was quoting a time that he wished to never relive, a person whom he could never get back. He wasn’t the lion anymore, and everyone knew that. He turned his head to stare directly at the unfamiliar face. She looked eager, almost desperate. Leo knew that he was supposed to sip the vodka from the glass, then bend her over against the edge and. It was part of the show, part of the act. He might as well play along.

 

Leo hooked his arm around the woman’s tiny frame. She laughed awkwardly as he pulled her closer. Still, she managed to keep the drinks square in her hands. Not a drop was spilled. Leo found himself more concerned with that than with her safety.

 

“I love a strong man. I think I’ve found myself the strongest.” She handed him the glass and pushed her slit against his hardening cock..

 

The water crested over her chest as she leaned her naked body into his. His arm wrapped around her to take a sip of the cold, tantalizing drink. It went down smooth, just like the other six glasses he'd taken in that morning. Vodka was always his first drink of the day, at least it had been since he'd quit his old life.

 

He continued to hold his lips on the smooth glass rim as the woman began to softly and slowly move up and down and around on his lap. The water made them feel weightless. The floating sensation made her pull and sway farther away from him with each movement.

 

When she found herself in the middle of the ten-person tub, she turned around to face him. Her eyes dug holes in him as she pleaded with him once more, “Come and get me, Lionheart.”

 

Leo had had enough. “Stop calling me that,” he said bluntly.

 

“Why?” she asked coyly. “What would you do to me if I called you that again?”

 

He took a long sip and then placed the glass on the tile surrounding the tub. Leo stood, his entire naked body exposed to her and his tall, chiseled body standing over her like a monument. His motion caused the water to splash over the side of the white porcelain bath. He watched as the empty glass was pushed over by the pseudo wave and fell to the floor with a crash, shattering itself into a million tiny parts.

 

“I will be very angry.” There was more truth to that than he’d liked, but the woman didn’t seem to pick up on it. All she saw was Leo Connelly, the “Lionheart” whose body was forged in the blood and sweat of the octagon.

 

“Oh?” Her eyes lit up as she watched the erection rising with every pulse between his legs.

 

“And is Lionheart going to teach me a lesson?”.

 

“In a manner of speaking.” You want a lesson? I’ll give you one you’ll never forget. “Turn around.”

 

She did exactly as she was told. At least she listens to something I say. Water sloshed around Leo’s legs as he approached. The woman’s ass was exquisite—full and plump with drops of water rolling from her round curves.

 

“Oh, Lionheart.” She mewed. “You’re not going to keep me waiting are you.”

 

He grabbed her by the hair and pushed her against the edge of the tub. The way she gasped made his prick grow just a bit harder. She wriggled her ass—wet and soapy—against him and he let out a low groan that told her she had him exactly where she want him.

 

“You like that, Lionheart?” She wriggled her ass again against his hard cock, teasing out a drop of precome.

 

He tightened his grip on her hair. “I’m warning you. Call me that again.”

 

“Or what.” She turned around and for a split second the only thing in his vision were her startling green eyes. She was inching closer. His fingers danced their way between her legs and found the warm wetness that hungered for something to fill it. When he found her throbbing clit, he brushed it with the edge of his finger and listened with satisfaction as she finally shut up.

 

He brushed it again. “Do you really want to find out?”

 

She shivered and nodded, unable to say a word.

 

He splayed her lips and drew tiny circles around the clit. Her knees were shaking as he held her closer. Nobody called him Lionheart without permission. Nobody. Her face—red hot—pressed against his as she took a deep shuddering breath, whispering “Yes… yes…” as he continued to play with her.

 

When she came, she came hard.

 

The water crashed all around them as she trembled and moaned against him. But he refused to let her go. His fingers continued to tease her, to please her, to send her higher and higher until there was nowhere else but to come crashing down.

 

When she collapsed against the edge of the tub, limbs twitching from the aftershocks; that was when he entered her.

 

He grunted at how wet she was. He was only a few thrusts in when he felt her come against his cock. He grabbed her by the waist, refusing to let her fall, daring her to keep up. That goddamn vodka. He could feel his cock starting to soften. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her head back towards him and rode her as hard as he could, as fast as he could until with one loud gasp, he came.

 

Pulling out, Leo collapsed into the water. His cock was already softening and for the moment, he was glad the bubbles hid it.

 

“I’m going to get dressed,” She whispered it softly over the hum of the jets, “Do you mind?”

 

“Do whatever you need to do and then go.” Leo had lost interest in her already. This girl with her pin straight hair and her fake tan was just another one for the night. He didn’t even trouble himself to watch her head back into the bedroom to rustle through the clothing piles on the floor.

 

After a few minutes, she called back to him, “Leo! Can you help me? I can't find my watch…” He could see her as she bent over a pile, her purse draped around her arm and a black cell phone in her hand. He had no idea where a watch could be, yet he still obliged her request.

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