Race

 

I can’t claim that I’m not the slightest bit amused by this. The smell of her perfume, the softness of her bare legs rubbing against me as we rode over, her quivering lip… I’ve suppressed the urge to rip off that damn dress and take her then and there. Now, there isn’t anything holding me back.

 

She’s mine.

 

But as much as I am going to enjoy the act of claiming her, there’s something that’s holding me back. The last girl I had ownership of was Miranda back in Colorado, and she turned out to be… Let’s just say she was a terrible fucking investment. Despite the fact that I had marked my territory, she still managed to run around with at least three other MC brothers. She spat in the face of loyalty and ruined my reputation. I see a lot of her in Delilah – a tough chick with a mouth. I know I am putting myself back in jeopardy by doing it this way.

 

The difference between Miranda and Delilah, though, is willingness. Delilah sinks into the leather sofa as she pleads, “I don’t want to be yours, Race. I’m not anyone’s property.”

 

“I know that,” I reply as I lean against the door of the office. Outside, two men stand guard. It’s how it’s done. They listen in and verify the deed is done. At any minute, they can walk in and do a “check”. If she’s not spread eagle with me between her thighs, it’s not official, and she loses her protection.

 

“Is there anything else? Any other way…?” Her voice trails off as she realizes that I’m right. This is it.

 

“No. And I expect you to be fucking grateful to me.”

 

“Grateful?” she practically screams at me. “What the fuck for? Did you not just hear me? I don’t want to be anyone’s fucking property.”

 

“Too late for that now. You’re mine. And I expect you to act like it too.”

 

“Never. This is against my will. The club can’t accept it if I refuse, right? So maybe I’ll just go out there and scream about how your dick isn’t going to satisfy me.” She stands up, and I can see by that look in her eye that she’s got escaping on her mind. The fighter I know is back with a vengeance, and she’s feisty as hell. She runs towards me, slamming her body into my chest. For a small chick, she’s deceptively sturdy. Her fingers claw into my sides, digging into my T-shirt.

 

I’m not one to ever put a hand on a woman, but she leaves me no choice. As gently as I can, I run my hands around her waist, pulling her arms back with a jolt. She cries out from the shock of how quickly I’ve taken her down. She drops to her knees onto the carpeted floor, but I hold on still, not trusting she’ll give up so easily.

 

“Are you done, Del? C’mon, tell me, are you fucking finished now? Because whether you believe me or not, I’m trying to help your sorry ass!”

 

“Help me!? How the hell are you helping me? You’re hurting me!”

 

“The more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt. Just – just stop fucking trying to run, and I’ll let you go!”

 

At this, she goes absolutely nuts. Her body wiggles and twists in an attempt to get away, but I’ve got at least a full hundred pounds and a full foot on her petite frame. Her protestations are of no use whatsoever.

 

“You can’t… You can’t make… me… You can’t…” She continues to mutter about what I can’t do, though her breath is gone from the effort. Her steamy green eyes stare daggers at me from up behind her shoulder. Her body lays on mine as she heaves a heavy, defeated sigh. “Please… just let me go home.”

 

“No. I can’t fucking do that. Outside that door are two guards listening for our moaning. They don’t hear it, you don’t have a claim. And you’re not going home anywhere. Whoever’s out to get you will be on you before you’re through the door.”

 

“Dammit!” she screams out in frustration.

 

“I didn’t know our last session was so fucking horrible that you’d be against doing me tonight. Or are you the kind of slut that needs to be liquored up and out of your mind to go down on a guy the first time that you meet him?”

 

I make the mistake of letting go of her arms for a second, and she takes full advantage of me. A small hand flies through the air and lands directly on my cheek. Before both of us know it, I have her wrists back in my hands, and her back goes flying down onto the ground with me tumbling down on top of her.

 

She lays under me, panting. Her dress straps pull down off of her shoulders, and the hem around her legs moves to her hips. I sit, straddling her, as I ask, “Are you fucking done?”

 

“No!” she calls back.

 

The remains of her cherry red lipstick shine as bright as her cheeks and hair. It’s enough for me. I lower myself down on her, pinning her even tighter to me as I find her mouth. It’s unwilling at first, but I pry it open with my tongue. She tastes like cola and strawberries – the same taste as the first night I took her on the bed of my motel room.

 

Delilah squirms, still fighting this. But the facade is wearing away with each second I hold my mouth to hers, almost as if she is melting straight into the floor from my force. Finally, I pull away from her, giving her a chance to take a deep breath in. She gasps desperately for breath with her eyes wide and pissed. She’s got the look of a wild woman about to rampage. Little does she know that nothing on Earth has ever turned me on more than the sight of a crazy bitch about to unleash.

 

“I’m not going to let you do this,” she insists.

 

“Yes, you are,” I growl out. “You want this just as much as I do. And not just for the protection. You want me inside of you again like the last night we were together.”

 

“I don’t even remember it!” she exclaims. “We were drunk and fucking stupid. We shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let you take me back to your place.”

 

“You’re a fucking terrible liar, you know that? Remember what I said the first night we met? I told you that I knew every thought in your head. I have been around long enough to know what a girl like you is thinking before the thought even pops into your head. And right now, right here with my knee pressed right up against your pussy, you’re thinking about how easy it would be to just say, Yes, Race.”

 

She pauses, biting her lip. For show, I dig the knee even higher towards her sex. She lets out a gasp, and her head pulls back into the carpet. She loves the friction. I slowly begin to rotate the knee clockwise, letting her remember what it was like to have something strong between her thighs. Her eyes close and her hand falls to her side by her hips. She’s not going to argue with this.

 

“Race…” she weakly squeaks out, but there’s nothing after that. No, “no” or “stop”. She fades into her own thoughts and desires.

 

I eventually move myself out from under her, sitting on my knees by her side. I place a hand on her thigh. The black dress hitches around the bottom of her white and pink striped panties giving me lots of options. I hook a quick finger under the elastic band and yank until the thong moves up and over her thighs and knees and down to her feet. I come back to her thighs, eager for more. She resists my attempts at spreading her open at first, but even with her best effort, she’s no match for me. I have total access to her well-shaved pussy.

 

She doesn’t anticipate my two fingers slipping through her gap, massaging the damp, smooth skin. Delilah lets out a small gasp, one I can tell she’s trying to conceal. I push slightly further inside and then pull out as quickly as I am in. When I remove my fingers, they are covered in the watery lubricant that I know means she’s enjoying this just as much as I am.

 

“Tell me how much you don’t want this,” I mutter under my breath.

 

She turns her face towards me, flushed but still shining with pride. “No.”

 

“Fine. I always loved a fucking challenge.” I pull her legs again, wide enough so that I can slink my way down towards her sex. My stubble traces around the thickness of her inner thighs, taking in her natural scent. She curls one of those legs up towards herself, but I yank it back down towards my mouth. It’s not like me to toy with my prey, but I plant wickedly soft kisses along the back of her leg, leading straight up the line to her pussy.

 

Delilah again tries to wiggle away, her hands press into my hair, but I’m already there, deeper into her parted V. She inhales as my tongue takes over from where my fingers were. I watch from the top of her pubic bone as her stomach caves in and she begins to take in short, shallow breaths. Her hip rises to meet my mouth, pressing me further into her moist, soft folds. My tongue creates wet lines around her map till I find the spot. It flicks once and then twice around the nub before my mouth wraps around the small ball and begins to suck as tenderly as I can allow myself.

 

I know I’ve found it as soon as her fingers dip deep into my curls. She’s no longer pushing me away, she’s begging me on. Her “no’s” are back, but they’re not the kind that are begging me to stop. They’re the kind of “no’s” that are fighting to reckon against the pleasure and the pain.

 

I’ve been on that edge before; the edge of no return where you must make a decision – stay or go. And by the looks of her chest and the way her chin lifts straight to the ceiling, concealing the twisted smile on her face, she’s not going anywhere.

 

“Say you want me,” I order in-between rounds of sampling her cunt. “Say you want me to do this to you.”

 

“No, Race… I can’t…” She shakes, her hands pulling at the straps of her dress. I can feel her body holding back the orgasm that has to come. She doesn’t want me to win, but the tide always comes in eventually. Whether or not she knows it, I will make her come for me, and then, I’ll make her beg for me.

 

“Say it!” I practically shout. Who the fuck cares what the men outside undoubtedly listening in think. Right now, all there is Delilah and me and our game. And I’m playing for keeps.

 

My fingers launch back into her now dripping wet sex. Three fingers easily fit inside of her pulsating folds. My thumb matches the place where my mouth is, massaging her spot with a fury she probably couldn’t duplicate herself. It’s vicious. I know that, but she deserves this. She needs to feel the power I have over her.

 

“Race! God! Please!” she calls out wildly. Her voice nearly screams it.

 

My own blood boils under my clothes. My cock presses against my jeans hearing her shout my name. “Say you want me!” I command. “Say it while you come all over my hand!”

 

She turns her head towards me, her eyes shining with a fire I’ve never seen before. She’s not Delilah the waitress whose fear runs deeper than her attitude; she’s a woman with needs that only I can satisfy. She opens her mouth, gasping with a high-pitched squeal. The sound comes out almost timed with the rush of juices around my hands.

 

Her own hand wraps around my arm as she stammers, “I want you, Race. I want you! Please! Please!”

 

I don’t give her time to think it through. As soon as I am out of her, I wrap an arm around her waist and rush her over towards the couch located against the wall. She moves to lie down, but I guide her to the arm over the couch. I press her stomach down, so she faces away from me, though she no doubt sees me move towards the door, opening it for the two guards outside.

 

She tries to protest, but I hurriedly say to the men, “You watch me enter her, and then you shut the fucking door, you hear me?”

 

The tanned and wrinkled faces of the two older riders go pale as they spin to see her Delilah there, with her dress just barely covering her sex. I drop my pants, and they slide down against my rock-hard cock till they’ve hit the floor. The skirt lifts and her legs part, and I’m in.

 

Delilah moans and pounds a fist against the battered leather cushions. Her legs part further, allowing me to even deeper inside of her tight pussy. I groan before I remember the men watching, waiting. I give two long thrusts into her and then slowly pull back for show. It’s not my preferred speed, but being in her is damn fine enough for me.

 

“You’re mine, Delilah,” I growl out. “You’re mine now. I lay claim to you. You won’t take another man. You won’t betray me or this club. You’re mine until I let you go or until death parts us. Now say it – say that you’re mine.”

 

Delilah has gone shy. I don’t blame her – with the performance she has to give. I thrust a few more times into her, and she shoots right up. I grab hold of her hair, forcing her to turn towards the door. Her eyes shut as she gulps back some air. I whisper into her ear, “They go away when you say it. If not, they’ll have to watch me finish off in you.”

 

“I’m yours, Race!” she suddenly shouts. “I’m yours! I won’t take another man. I won’t betray you. And I’m yours until you let me go.” She sighs as she finishes the oath: “Or until death parts us. I’m yours.”

 

“Shut the door,” I snarl out at the men. They don’t act quick enough for me. “SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR!”

 

I hear a click, and the men’s boot steps trudge away from us. We’re alone now, really alone. I can stop when I want to. That was all they needed to see to know that my claim on her was sealed. I could give her what she wanted and begged for when we first started, but I don’t think there is turning back for me. This chick is mine in body and in oath, and I can do whatever the hell I want.

 

I pound my flesh into hers, feeling the sensation of driving my cock into the softness of hers. As I push in, I lean down towards her ear and ask, “Do you really want me to fuck you, Delilah?”

 

“Yes,” she hisses out.

 

“Then show me. Show me how much you want me.”

 

There’s a pause before her hand shoots up behind her, motioning for me to take a step back. I come out of her with a disappointing rush like sitting up too fast. My head spins, but she leads me down towards the couch. I sit before her with my hands resting on my lap.

 

Her body falls softly down on me, her legs on each side of me. She moves her dress up and then takes my cock in her hands. Like an expert, she guides it to her pussy. Her body arches up and then slides down slowly over my length.

 

Two hands rest gently on my shoulders. Her nails scratch against the back of my neck and then push down on the bone as she begins to rock. It’s slow at first – almost like her striptease the first time we were together. But she picks up speed as she goes. Her body bounces lightly on my cock until I can’t tell if she’s floating or not. Her breath becomes more hitched, and she begins to release a soft, needing cry.

 

“Is this… is this what you wanted, Race?”

 

“More,” I beg of her. The sensation in my skin is practically crawling out of my veins.

 

Again, she speeds up, but she puts more weight into it. My cock drives into her – spaces I haven’t yet traveled. She gets to her feet and positions herself straight up and down in a squat. Her ass rolls over my cock and then bursts into a speed I have never felt a woman use my cock at. It’s almost as if she’s attempting to pull me until I burst.

 

“Come for me,” she orders, her eyes directly locked with mine. “I want you to come with me.” It’s a request I’ve never had, but I’m happy to oblige.

 

I throw my hands around her, pulling her to my chest. She gasps and struggles to hold on as I thrust my hips up and off the couch. That call for control, the need to make her understand that I am in charge, washes over me. She’s mine. I own this. I own the ass clutched in my hand, the hair dangling on my chest, the lips pressed to my neck, the tits rubbed up against me, the legs curled around my hips, and the pussy about the explode. I own every part of this.

 

And fuck if I don’t love every minute of taking her.

 

She orgasms first. Her body nearly falls on mine as her cries explode from her chest and mouth. She gasps for air with a smile so broad, I don’t even recognize the girl. The feeling of her tensing and pulsing around me is enough for me to follow soon after. We fall back on the couch as my seed spills out from her and onto her milky white thigh. I pull myself off of her when the mess is made, content to take a spot near the end of the couch as she wipes herself off.

 

There’s a long silence as we both straighten up. I catch my breath, watching her move from one side of the room to retrieve her panties to the couch where she adjusts her straps and reapplies her lipstick with a tube she concealed in the pockets of her rumpled dress. When she’s finished, she leans back in her seat, a look of terror taking over.

 

“What the fuck did I just do?” she finally says.

 

“You got yourself some fucking protection is what,” I reply, as coldly as I can. I’m not sure if I’m put off by her ungrateful attitude for the bedding or her unwillingness to even acknowledge what I gave up for her. Taking no other man meant I am not exactly encouraged to screw other women. And being loyal to a mouthy, smart-ass woman like her is going to try every last nerve in my body. A little “thank you” could go a long way.

 

She bites the corner of her lip and then turns her head towards me. The strands of red hair fall across her face. She asks, “What happens next?”

 

“I don’t have a goddamn clue, Del. But if we’re going to end this fast, we need to figure out who the hell is after you and why.”

 

“What happens to my claim then?”

 

“We’re done. I’ll release you.” I really hadn’t thought of it, but it makes sense. This is business. She lays with me, and I bring peace to the club by finding out what group is trying to break territory, and in return, I protect her. It doesn’t need to go past that.

 

She nods her head, seeming to internalize what I’ve promised. “Okay then,” she says finally. “So… where do I go?”

 

“You’re not going home. And they already know you’ve been with me. Bringing you back to my motel would be a fucking stupid move. There’s only one place to go.”

 

I stand and walk towards the desk. Rummaging through the drawers, I pick out a pair of gold matching keys. I toss one to her as I spit out at her, “You stay here.”

 

I’m not prepared for the protests and fights she’s about to put up.