Page 15 of Pink Poison (The Butchers MC #1)

Chapter nine

Stevie

“Mack, a word?” Graves asks.

I watch Max nod from my peripheral before he slides from the booth, leaving me to sit alone with Stone.

I’m not sure if it was a smart move on Jameson’s part or stupid, knowing that Stone’s face has been buried in my pussy recently.

But, I can’t say that I’m mad about the opportunity.

I’m keyed up and need someone to relieve what Max started.

“Pretty doll,” Stone rumbles as he pushes himself next to me on the pew seat.

Turning, I’m struck by the vivid haze of lust that’s swimming in his eyes.

A desperate throb of desire pulses through me, knowing that this man thoroughly enjoyed the show Max put on for the table.

Licking my lips, I taste the faint flavor of my arousal from Max’s fingers, driving my need for the man next to me .

“Butcher,” I tease breathily.

He smirks. “You were a good girl for Mack.”

His praise does everything for me that Max’s didn’t.

While Max has degradation down to a sizzling science, from his wicked tongue to the way he cruelly touches, Stone seems to teeter on both lines.

If I had to guess, I’d say he could play good cop just as easily as he plays the insufferable bad boy.

Max makes me want to defy him, just so I can hear his sharp tongue.

But Stone? I’d do just about anything to get a repeat performance with his tongue. That includes being a good girl.

Trailing his rough, calloused hand over my thigh, he asks, “Do you remember what I said about good girls?”

How could I forget?

My lips part with the answer waiting on my tongue, “Good girls get to come.”

“That’s right, doll.” He brushes the wet fabric between my thighs. “Fuck, Mack did all of that?”

I hiss a breath while spreading my legs wider, silently begging for more. “Not just Max.”

“That mess for my Prez, too?” He circles my clit through my thong.

“Fuck,” I moan. “And you.”

He pulls away abruptly, leaving me needier than before as my swollen nerves throb for attention. His dark brow quirks, almost in disbelief. “You want me, doll?”

“Please,” I hiss, raising my hips for him to see how desperate I am to be touched.

He groans, or rather, growls while he squeezes his noticeable bulge through his dark wash jeans. “Bathroom. Now.”

Sliding out from the booth, I fix the front of my dress that was raised during Max’s stupidly hot game . I toss my hair over my shoulder and raise my chin, assuming my inner bad bitch as I strut to the back of the bar where the bright restroom sign reads.

Silently, I debate which bathroom to enter before deciding to rush into the woman’s. If Stone wants to play, he can come and get me.

A squeal of surprise escapes my lips as the door slams behind me. “I don’t chase pussy, doll.”

Another jolt of shock takes me by surprise when the sound of a lock being turned rings out in the hopefully empty bathroom. Shaking off my nerves, I paste a flirty smirk on my mouth and sashay my ass with each step I take towards an empty stall. “Are you sure, Butcher?”

His footsteps shuffle behind me, telling me exactly what I want to know. “Not at all.” He sighs.

“I thought so,” I snark.

With a quick spin on my heels, I turn and face the man in preparation for his gravelly demands for me to behave.

Instead, my smile falls as I fully take him in.

Sweat beads over the shaved side of his head, highlighting the scars etched into his tanned skin.

His chest heaves, almost like he ran a whole ass marathon to follow me into this bathroom.

It’s an unnerving sight. He’s unnerving.

His dark eyes meet mine, showing every bit of desire that he’s holding back. “Why am I chasing you?” he rasps.

The desperation in his voice softens my heart momentarily. This man has never wanted to chase after someone, even just for a night of fun. “Because my pussy tasted that good?” I tease.

As if my banter was all he needed to give in, he growls, “You’re damn right it does.” One step. Two steps. Three steps is all it takes for him to reach me—for his broad, godly chest to brush against my breasts. “Everything about you is intoxicating.”

His words bring a flush to my cheeks that I haven’t felt in years.

I told myself I wouldn’t let a man stand in my way again; flattery only mattered when money was concerned.

But, from his mouth, I can’t help but be swept away in the moment.

Stone’s appraisal feels more than surface level; it’s not about my assets. No. It’s all about me.

“I-Intoxicating?” I breathe.

“One taste of you left me with poison in my veins,” he rasps. Wrapping his thick hand around my hip, he digs his fingers in punishingly. It hurts, but only in a way that I know I’ll crave when I see the bruises tomorrow. “And I don’t want the antidote.”

Stumbling back, the stall door creaks open, giving him the upper hand.

He pulls me back into his chest and dips his head low.

Every thought I had tonight dissipates from my mind the moment his mouth clashes with mine.

My tongue prods against his soft lips, begging for entrance.

A low groan vibrates through his chest, stimulating my sensitive breasts before he parts his mouth for me.

I flick my tongue against his, teasing the midline piercing that pleased me the other night until he fights back for dominance.

Sliding my hand to the front of his jeans, I massage his thick length through the material.

He groans against my lips before tearing himself away. His warm hand engulfs mine, forcing me to press into his length harder. “Fuck, doll. Do you feel what you’re doing to me?”

I grab his free hand and drag it between my legs. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me?” I parrot back, softly grinding against him.

His fingers hook the cloth to the side just like he did at Mo’s. Slowly, he slides his fingers between my slit, coating my swollen clit repeatedly until my legs shake uncontrollably. I’m so damn close.

“Is all this for me, pretty doll?” he asks. I moan as his finger breaches me, coaxing out a small gush of arousal. “Fuck, that was hot. I need to be in this pretty pussy.” Pulling out, he sucks his fingers clean before making his demands. “Turn around and put your hands on the toilet seat. ”

Frowning, I scrunch my nose at his suggestion. The toilet seat? Ew. “Anywhere but the toilet,” I counter.

He smirks, visibly amused by my disdain. “Do what I say, brat.”

“But that’s—” I shudder, thinking about how many asses have touched the seat tonight alone. “Gross.”

A sharp smack echoes in the bathroom, followed by a familiar sting steals a pained moan from my lips. The sting quickly morphs into a subtle burn that makes me want more.

“Hands. On. The. Toilet.” He spins me around, forcing me to bend over the porcelain bowl. The sound of his zipper falling ignites something in me, replacing any refusal I had planned with our positioning. “Good girl. Now, spread those sexy legs for me.”

Following his command, I spread my legs wider. The movement forces the back of my dress to lift, revealing my uncovered ass. Hot, calloused hands rub over the flesh before rising towards the straps of my thong. The material rolls down my skin softly, encouraging a wave of goosebumps to rise.

“Stone,” I whine, needing more.

“Shawn.” He teases my slick folds with the warmth of his wide tip.

“I want you to scream my name when I’m fucking you.

” My weight falls forward over the toilet as he drives forward, pushing every deliciously painful inch of his cock inside of me.

I choke on a moan, unprepared for how hard he planned to take me.

“Hold that bowl tight,” he rasps, pulling himself back tentatively before slamming his hips forward again.

A throaty moan works its way from my mouth as he continuously thrusts, crashing over me like a high tide. He hits every spot that makes my eyes roll with an unending precision. Our sharp groans mingle in time with each slap of our skin, stirring the pressure that’s stoking low in my abdomen .

Oh, God.

“I-I’m going to come,” I pant breathlessly.

His movements slow, pulling me away from the edge that I desperately want to jump from. “Did I say you could come yet?”

Gritting my teeth, I push my hands from the toilet seat. If he won’t make me come, I’ll do it myself. “Let. Me. Come.”

My head snaps uncomfortably as his fingers tangle in my hair, yanking the strands from the root.

“I told you I wanted you to scream my name,” he growls.

Driving his length forward, he reaches a resistance.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. A shock of discomfort has me pulling away, but his punishing hold holds no remorse as he continues rutting against my cervix.

“God, you feel so good like this. Your perfect pussy is taking my fat cock so fucking deep.”

Arousal trickles down the inside of my thighs against my will. I can’t hold back anymore. “Shawn!” I cry, giving into his demands to hear me scream. His pace quickens, drawing a chant from my lips. “ Shawn. Shawn. Shawn. ”

“That’s it, doll,” he groans. “Come for me—soak my cock.” Pleasure consumes me after being edged so hard all night.

Arousal gushes between us as he slams into me, lost in chasing his ecstasy.

Mumbling incoherently, my weight buckles beneath me as my head goes light from the rush of endorphins.

“Stevie,” he pants, sounding further away than he feels. “I can’t stop.”

“Don’t s-stop.” My words slur, drunk on the high that my body is currently thriving on. “Please don’t s-stop.”

“Keep squeezing me. Oh, fuck —that's it, doll. Milk my cock.”

Jerking forward, his thick shaft pulses with his hot release. “Oh my God,” I moan as another wave of pleasure crashes over me.