Page 2 of Trip (Sons of Hell MC #11)

C.C.

Rosewood, Virginia, the wedding reception...

Gawd Almighty... could this wedding be anymore cliché?

Sure, the ceremony was just precious, what with the blushing bride and groom who were certainly old enough to know better, and please, don’t even get me started on the wedding colors!

Shades of pale blue and white? Really?

Was this some play on the Procol Harum song, “Whiter Shade of Pale”?

The groomsmen were dressed in traditional black-and-white monkey suits, so that was something which was kind of nice because thank the good Lord those men were handsome. But the bridesmaids? Well, those women were something out of Gone with the Wind !

Didn’t the bride know the Confederacy lost the war?

Sweet baby Jesus. Someone trussed those poor women up tighter than pigs in a blanket in those corsets.

The sheer absurdity of the situation made it incredibly difficult to maintain my composure, and though I fought valiantly to keep from rolling my eyes, I ultimately failed when the preacher uttered the word ‘ obey ,’ and I erupted into a loud snort that immediately resulted in a sharp, disapproving nudge from my mother.

The only fucking way I’d ‘ obey ’ was if someone slapped a pair of handcuffs on my ass and threw me in the back of a squad car, and even then, my behavior would be iffy.

I guess I should be a little more proper.

This was a family wedding, after all.

Well, at least I thought it was. I wasn’t entirely sure.

Now, from my understanding, Uncle John, that’s Uncle Jack’s younger brother, who is Josie’s dad—Jack, not John.

Anyway, Uncle John married a woman named Rosalie La Croix.

Now, according to the family tree, Auntie Rosie was the first cousin to my momma, Glorianna La Croix DuBois, who is the oldest sister to Auntie Marabella, Wade’s momma, and Auntie Gail, that’s Sugar’s momma, who married John Porter not to be mistaken for John Orlean, Uncle Jack’s little brother.

Confused yet?

You should come to a family reunion. We all wear shirts with the word FAMILY written on them, just in different colors—the shirts, not the word.

I swear I needed a freakin’ road map to navigate this family.

Back to the groomsmen, or should I say grooms man ?

Sweet mother of God and everything that was DIVINE... he was fucking gorgeous!

Those panty-melting moss green eyes, like the still, green water of the bayou after a warm summer rain, and that dark brown hair, so soft I could have buried my face in it and died happy—that’s the one I’m talking about.

Man, oh man, the way the light caught the sharp lines of his jaw and nose, the way his lips looked so soft and full, he was almost the perfect fuckstick. But then I saw his tattoos, and it was game over.

Call me crazy, but as the President of the New Orleans Chapter of the Ink Sluts, I was a sucker for some good ink and boy howdy, did he have that in spades! I wondered if I was really good for the next few hours, Santa would deliver him to me with a bow around his... well, you know!

Damn, that man was F.I.N.E!

Licking my lips, my mind raced with all the delicious, salacious, decadent things I wanted to do to him when the hunky adonis winked at me.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Oh, thank Gawd!

Hallelujah! It was time to party.

Say what you will about the South, and my family in particular, but the one thing we southerners knew how to do was throw a fucking party!

Okay, I need to rescind my previous statement.

As wedding receptions go, this one was okay. It wasn’t as fun as last summer’s Fourth of July get-together, but it was better than Uncle Skeeter’s funeral from two years ago.

“Having fun?” a smooth voice asked from behind me.

The sudden deep timbered voice made me whirl around. And wouldn’t you know it, there he was, staring back with those dark intense eyes.

Fuck me. I think my girlie parts just swooned!

“Not really.”

“Me either. Wanna get out of here?” He winked, holding out his hand. “Come on. I know the perfect place.”

Sure. Why not? Anything was better than watching my family do the Chicken Dance.

The second he walked me into a storage closet and shut the door, his lips were on mine.

Okay.

No names.

I’m cool with that.

God, the taste of warm cinnamon and baked apples that exploded in my mouth was a burst of pure magic.

The way his mouth expertly suckled and pulled with precise pressure led to me grinding on him with the skill and intensity of a professional stripper during Mardi Gras.

I moaned, a low sound lost in his mouth, as his tongue traced the edges of my teeth with a slow, deliberate glide better than any oral hygienist I’d ever met.

This wasn’t just a kiss.

This was mouth fucking at its best!

His rough hands, calloused and warm, swept up my body, brushing over the fabric of my clothes. Then, one hand, surprisingly cool against my skin, slipped beneath my shirt, igniting a fiery trail across my burning flesh. I hissed when his nails clawed at my back.

It was a good pain though; one I thoroughly enjoyed as I ground myself against him, feeling his thick, hard cock. His lips trailed down my neck, first suckling on my earlobe then down to my collarbone and back up to lick lightly below my chin.

I shivered and sucked in a deep breath.

He pulled back and gasped, “Fuck me.”

“What’s stopping you?” I winked.

He growled as his hands traveled up my thigh to get under my skirt, where his fingers trailed over my bare pussy.

Public Announcement #1: A girl can never be too careful or prepared. You never know when some smoking hot stud is determined to have his wicked way with you in a storage closet.

I squeaked as he positioned one hand on my hip to keep me in place before he flicked my clit.

And that, my girlfriends, was game over because when he pinched my clit, I threw my head back, and I gave myself completely over to the sex God before me.

My hands on his shoulders tried to gain some sort of ground when my body moved of its own accord, as he pinched harder.

My hips ground hard against his hand. I was so close.

I was already beginning to tense up, biting my lower lip, silently pleading with every deity I knew to bless this sex God with the strength of a thousand Thors to never stop.

“Oh, hell yes!” I screamed, just as the finger-fucker removed his fingers. “What the hell?!”

I gasped at being denied the only damn good thing at this reception.

Smug fucker had the nerve to smirk at me. Before I could even open my mouth to cuss him out, his fingers plunged into me deeply, and I came. Hard.

I didn’t mean to. Well, I was already on the precipice of an orgasm, so it just happened.

Had to give the God of Finger-Fucking props.

No one had ever made me come so quickly and with just their fingers.

Yeah, I wasn’t ashamed to admit I was groaning and squeezing his shoulders tightly as I threw my head back and rode out wave after wave of exquisite pleasure as I heard the DJ queue up the “Macarena.”

Gawd, someone please save me from line dances!

“Wow,” he mumbled, his eyes intensely watching me as he grabbed my face and ravaged my mouth once more.

God, this man was something else.

I moaned as I tried to crawl up his body, using my hands to tear at his clothes while he reached beneath my shirt to graze my nipples with his fingers.

I hissed when he twisted them roughly, but I didn’t mind.

I was too busy, lost in the way his mouth made me feel a wanton concubine in a harem full of sexually charged sheikhs!

Trailing my hands down to his jeans, I unzipped them in one fluid motion, releasing the massive bulge, and I dipped my hand inside his pants to grip his cock.

Sweet Merciful Heavens!

Thank you, God.

He was fucking huge!

His magnificent veiny pork sword felt huge in my grasp. I could barely wrap my fingers around him to get a firm grip! This man, whoever he was, had surely been blessed by the God of Dicks!

Slowly rubbing the masterful piece of man flesh, I felt his velvety smooth shaft jerk and twitch at my touch.

He was so soft and warm and hard all at the same time.

My thumb skimmed over his head and I squeezed, earning me a growl.

Before I knew what was happening, while my hand was still slowly stroking him, he picked me up and hurled me against the wall, tearing my lips away from his.

I gasped when his knee came up between my thighs, resting against my cleft.

“Keep touching me like that and I’ll blow all over you,” he whispered, his mouth dangerously close to my ear, his words sending a tingle from my toes to the land of ‘ Oh yes, Daddy, punish me’ !

You know... that special place deep inside you where a warm wind could cause a delicious quiver and unleash an ache that morphed into a decadent throbbing that was nothing but pure, absolute pleasure, culminating into the biggest mind-blowing orgasm that would most certainly have any girl crying for their momma!

Yeah, that place!

But when his mouth latched onto my neck and sucked as if he’d just taken a shot of Patron and needed a lime chaser, I was pretty damn sure my uterus quivered and my ovaries were shootin’ out eggs like fireworks at a Fourth of July parade!

Oh, and I was definitely gonna have a hickey tomorrow.

Okay, maybe a few. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want him to stop.

I moaned and ran my free hand over his front, feeling his muscles bunch and relax beneath my touch.

I wanted to see him naked, sprawled out like an offering at a buffet table, filled with delicious mouthwatering treats.

However, given my current situation, I would have to just deal with him being pressed up against me.

A sharp tug and the sound of fabric ripping caused me to shudder as he licked a fiery trail under my chin, and I felt the head of his monster cock rub against my hyperactive and oversensitive clit, right before he plunged into me.

Gerd your loins, girls.

This is gonna be a fan-fucking-tastic ride!

I cried out, gripping his shoulders before he catapulted me into the stratosphere without a life jacket.

Which reminded me.

Note to self: Make an appointment with the chiropractor ASAP!

As I hung on for dear life, he thrust forcefully before basically jack-rabbiting his hips. I cried out with each pump of his hips when I could have sworn I heard the door crack open and someone gasp.

I pulled at his hair, clutching his shoulders while he hammered into me.

God, his cock felt... DIVINE .

I never wanted this to end. Not even with the way he stretched me or the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom.

Fuck it.

It would be okay.

Second note to self: Stop at the pharmacy and pick up the morning-after pill!

Panting and clinging to him, I screamed out when he snaked his hand between our bodies to flick my clit. His thumb slowly massaged my little bundle of nerves, and I threw my head back and whimpered.

Dear baby Jesus, I was so close.

I’d been so close to another explosive orgasm even before he started rubbing my clit. It was just something about the way he touched me that had my body on the edge of coming and coming.

The man had a gift.

That was for damn sure.

He then paused before he unwrapped my legs from around his waist and maneuvered me into a new position.

His arm snaked under the crook of my knee and he pumped, sliding in and out, slowly.

His mouth found mine, and he quickened his pace, snapping his hips to slam hard into me, banging me against the wall.

His grip on my knee slipped onto my thigh and tightened, and squeezed hard enough to make me withdraw my face from his and throw my head back to cry out.

He took that opportunity to attack my neck once again, running his teeth over my sensitive skin.

His free hand gripped my breast and kneaded it.

One of my hands slide between us, searching for my clit.

I rubbed furiously while he licked his way up my throat, adding fuel to the fire of my oncoming orgasm.

I was on the brink. My toes curled as my pussy flexed and tightened.

I knew I was about to unleash a scorching orgasm as every part of my body coiled in anticipation.

“Oh yes!” I panted, feeling the familiar tension rise in my body right before I let loose a scream as the most powerful orgasm crashed over me, forcing my body to vibrate around him.

I heard liquid splash to the floor and knew I just squirted, if his strangled groan was any indication.

His thrust grew staggered, faster even, while his hand on my breast stiffened.

The telltale sign of his jerking cock inside of me told me he pumped copious amounts of cum deep into my womb.

His head fell to the crook of my shoulder while he caught his breath as he released his hold on me, but still kept our bodies intertwined.

His lips found mine again, and he gave me the sweetest little kiss, only this time there was no tongue invasion or even teeth in the way.

Then the kiss slowly died out, with him pulling away.

He smirked at me before tucking his monster cock back into his jeans and heading for the door.

“Thanks for the fuck. Hit me up next time you’re in Rosewood and I’ll put those lips of yours to good use.”

Huh?

WHAT the ACTUAL FUCK?!