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Horse (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 6) Page 4
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“They do. I’m kind of fucked up. I’m sorry.”
He must have custom built the furniture out here, as it was all huge, and he moved my legs as he sat with me, so I was on his lap.
“More stuff you can’t tell me?”
“I’m claustrophobic. It’s why my apartment has so many windows. His Majesty sent someone with me to look for apartments, so he could make sure it would be relatively safe and easy to defend. The guy he sent wanted me in buildings with practically no windows. The only reason he agreed to the one I’m in is because it’s on an upper floor and the big windows don’t actually open. Only the small ones in the kitchen and bathroom will open.”
“The section you saw was small. Once you get into the living area, the space is much bigger because I spend a good bit of time as a bear when I’m home alone. Is it small spaces, or just any place you can’t get out of?”
“I have to be able to see outside.”
He was quiet a few moments and I said, “Look, I just came to fuck you, right? The couch in your living room will do just fine for that.” I leaned forward and rocked my groin on his, hoping to remind him of how much he’d wanted me earlier.
“I hope you came for more than just to fuck me, Gabby. There’s a bedroom up here, though. No need to have to make do with the sofa.”
Whoever drew Jessica Rabbit must have known a rabbit shifter. We’re made of curves and sex, and no one will ever call me skinny because I have boobs and ass for days, even though I have a tiny waist. My dad never let me dress to show my figure. He taught me to be ashamed of it, and only bought me unflattering clothes.
I was a bookworm and a straight A student, and it had taken me a while to convince my aunt to let me complete the equivalent of a human-realm high school education from within Faerie. She’d eventually relented, though, and hired a teacher. I’d come to the human realm a few times in the past year, and I understand there was a lot of consternation amongst the Marshals that I managed to show up to take the GED and SAT tests without them knowing until I was gone again.
All this to say that when I came back to the human realm, I didn’t buy unflattering clothes, exactly, but I made sure they were all loose and didn’t show my figure. I’d spent most of my time topless in Faerie after the first couple of months, and a good deal of time with no clothes at all, but things are different here.
I knew he’d had his hands on me when he picked me up, so he knew I had a small waist, but when I stepped away from him and took my shirt off, I smelled his arousal and knew he was — like most men — visually aroused.
I don’t really have to worry about support, like I’m told human women do, so my size Double H breasts just had a little skimpy bra, designed more to tease than for any structural function. I rearranged it, making sure he saw the edge of my areola for a brief second before I asked, “You said there’s a bedroom with windows upstairs?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure you play fair, little bunny.”
He stood and swooped me up all in one motion, tossed me over his shoulder, and for some reason I heard his heavy biker boots on the hardwood floors now, where I’d barely noticed the sound before.
I expected him to toss me on the bed and pull my pants off, but he placed me oh-so-gently on it, and leaned in for a way-too-tender kiss. I didn’t want sweet and tender, I wanted rough and wild, but when I reached to palm his cock over his jeans, he moved away so I couldn’t play.
I’d truly gone too long without sex, and my hormones were on more of a swing than I’d realized, apparently, because I curled into a ball and burst into tears as my emotions swirled out of control and I sank into the depths of despair.
It sounds terribly melodramatic now, but at the time the feelings were very real. I’d been floating above depression because I’d been staying so busy with my studies, but the truth is I hadn’t slept well in weeks, hadn’t had sex since I’d come to this place, and probably hadn’t been eating right, either.
Everything came to a head in that moment, and I crashed.
And Horse had no idea what to do with a crying female. He started asking if he’d hurt me, which made me cry harder because he’d barely fucking touched me.
When I could finally speak, it was to choke out between sobs, “You p…p….promised to fuck me!”
“Seriously? That’s why you’re crying?”
“N…N…Need it. My body’s shutting down, without it. God, why can’t you understand!”
Something must have clicked, because he leaned over and took his boots off, and then stood and disrobed quickly without fucking around. He leaned down to tug my pants and underwear off, though he did pause to get a look at my purple lace panties before he pulled them off.
He rolled onto his back, pulled me onto him so I was sitting on his abdomen, and said, “I’m worried I’ll hurt you, and with you crying to start with…” He shook his head. “Asking every five seconds if you’re okay isn’t sexy, so you’re gonna have to be on top the first time. I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”
I looked back and his cock was hard but I didn’t smell any arousal. He was worried about me and he’d somehow gotten himself hard without being horny. Well, I could certainly fix that.
Chapter Ten
Horse
Gabby scooted back and I expected her to impale herself on me. I could smell her need and knew she was wet without having to check.
I was still unclear what had changed — one minute I could smell her arousal, the next it was as if she were suicidal, her scent went so bitter. And yet, she was still needy, still wanting.
I’d promised sex, so I had my cock hard, but this was the last thing I wanted at the moment.
However, Gabby moved back farther than I expected and without warning, her mouth engulfed me, her tongue swirled around me, and within seconds my libido had screamed to life despite my worry for her.
There’s no way Gabby should’ve been able to deep throat me to the root, and yet, she did. I could almost feel her insides moving and shifting so she could take me in. It wasn’t possible, but I was buried in her mouth and throat — and possibly stomach, as short as she is.
I’ve only managed to completely bury my cock in two women my entire life — both of them club sluts who are used to taking it up the ass multiple times a day. I’ve never gone all the way into a woman’s vagina or throat. A few have tried their hardest to let me, but I just can’t hurt them bad enough to do it. Even the few female Grizzlies I’ve fucked haven’t been able to take all of me — though one of them came damned close.
And yet, Gabby was deep throating me as if I were a normal sized man.
It was such a new experience, I popped off in just a few minutes. I’d gone from faking it and forcing blood into my cock to get it hard, to an orgasm that threatened to blow the top of my skull off in under five minutes.
And little Gabby swallowed me down and then worked my cock until it was hard again, while all I could do was lie back and try to get enough oxygen into my body to try to stay conscious.
Something changed in her when I came. I could feel and smell the transformation from needy to healthy. Apparently, oral sex gave her whatever she needed, too. Her tears were gone and her scent was completely different. I hadn’t known it, but she’d likely been close to a meltdown last week in the gun shop, she’d just been fighting it and temporarily winning.
* * * *
Gabby
I’m made for sex. I’d tried to tell him, but he hadn’t understood. My body shifts and adjusts to fit whoever I’m fucking. If they have a tiny dick then my pussy becomes ultra-tight and short. If they’re huge, my organs move out of the way and my insides expand so everything fits. The same thing happens when I give a blow job — my body makes it work.
Most of the time I get the same pleasure from a tiny cock as a large one, but Horse was ginormous. My body had never had to make so many adjustments, and for a couple of seconds I’d wondered if it was going to let me take all of him down my thr
oat. I’d managed, and now I was really looking forward to fucking him.
I climbed on top of his huge body, held his cock up, positioned myself over him, and sank onto his long, thick, shaft.
My body took a few seconds to adjust to make room for him, and I felt him in ways I’ve never felt anyone before. I could tell he was having to work to be still, and I took several seconds to slide down onto him, my body separating and making room for him as he filled me. We both gave a long, low groan as I finally sat on his torso and tried to figure out how to breathe with him filling me so completely.
I opened my eyes to look at him, and smiled at the shocked look on his face. “I told you — I’m made for sex. It doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I’m good for, but my body adjusts so it fits whoever I’m fucking. I’m told as long as you won’t reach past my diaphragm and up into my heart and lungs, you aren’t too long.”
He was so still he barely breathed as he said, “I’ve never fit all the way inside anyone like this. How careful do I need to be?”
His care and concern touched me, and I assured him, “Not at all. I can smell your need, and I could tell you wanted to move when I went down on you. I wouldn’t be at all upset if you threw me on the bed and pounded me.” I could tell he was considering it so I repeated, “I promise I won’t break. I need this, and I can tell you want to.”
Leave it to me to find a romantic grizzly bear worried about hurting me when I just wanted to be fucked hard. I was about to start moving so I could get myself off when he flipped us over and growled, “You’ll let me know if it’s too much.”
Horse is so much bigger than me, and yet he’s usually so gentle. He’s nearly two feet taller than me and he towered over me, but I felt no fear at all. He moved in and out slowly a few times, eyes heavy with lust as he watched my face and moved cautiously. He gradually went faster, and snapped his hips harder, and I know he could smell my lust growing exponentially as he finally started giving me what I wanted. What I needed.
He drove into me, relentless, ruthless, and I wrapped my legs around his torso and moved with him, pulling myself onto him as he pressed in, and I moaned in bliss as he pounded me until my heart slammed in my chest . So damned much sensation as he pulled out and then powered back in, and the skin of my pussy clung to him both ways. Horse was so big, he was at the outer limits of what my body could adjust to accept, and he touched me in places I’ve never felt before. He gradually went faster and faster, and hit harder and harder, and I soared higher with each thrust.
When he was finally sure he could thrust without hurting me, Horse didn’t hold any of himself back, and we both went over the edge of the cliff together, losing ourselves to the sensations, to each other, and to lust itself.
I rode the edge of an orgasm, somehow knowing he’d come when I did. I was a bundle of sensations with no actual thoughts, and yet I understood he was holding back so I’d find my pleasure, and I’ll admit to holding off a few minutes just because I didn’t want it to end. When I finally came I was glad he didn’t seem to have any neighbors close enough to hear me screaming, and when he came this time I wrapped my arms and legs around him and held on tight as he pumped his pleasure into me — physically and metaphysically.
Some men hold back and I don’t get as much of them during the energy exchange of orgasm, but Horse gave me all of him.
And I saw joy and goodness, and not the violence and avarice I expected. He’s a rough and tumble biker who wears leather and has a scruffy beard. He owns a gun store. I expected his energy and his life to be full of violence, but what I felt was more caretaker than ruffian.
And he’d said he wanted to make sure I was safe.
We lay in each other arms a long while without talking. It was nice, but I knew he had a million questions. Finally, I told him, “I’ll answer general questions about rabbits, and probably most of your questions about my life now… just nothing about my history, okay?”
“All rabbits can do that? Adjust like that?”
“Yes.”
“Just your mouth and…”
“Pussy, cunt?” I supplied for him, and smelled his discomfort at the word cunt. “It doesn’t hurt for my mouth and pussy to rearrange, but anal sex is a little different. You can’t tear us or hurt us, we’re made to rearrange and make things fit there, too, but the stretching and moving hurts, no matter how many times we do it, or how used to it we should be. It’s basically like being a virgin every time — it doesn’t get easier with experience. I guess it was nature’s way of making any sadists we might encounter happy, since they can’t hurt us the other two ways.”
“Do you like that? Is it a good pain, or a bad pain?”
I shrugged. “If I know the person I’m with is enjoying it, I want it. If they didn’t want it, I don’t think I’d enjoy it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He stroked my hair away from my face, and ran his fingers through it with another gentle smile. “I like it down. I’ve only seen it up, so it looked short.”
“I let it grow long in Faerie, and I haven’t decided how I want it in the human realm yet. For now, I’m putting it up until I figure it out.”
“Why would you want it different in this realm? You’re the same person, right?”
I had to resist giving a smart-assed laugh and rolling my eyes. I could run around naked or topless in Faerie and it was considered natural. Here, I’d be branded a slut if I showed my body and had long, thick hair. Rabbits are seductive without meaning to be, it’s in our nature. It works in Faerie, but I’d heard nightmare tales of how people are treated in this realm if they like sex too much.
“Gabby?”
Okay, so he wasn’t going to let me get away with not answering. “It’s like going to a basketball game versus an opera — you wear different clothes and act different ways. You may be the same person, but you have to adapt to the surroundings.”
He ran his hand down my torso, his hand dipping in at my waist and rising over my hips. “You are gorgeous, and you cover it up with loose clothes. I liked you before, but I think I might be head over heels now.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship, Horse.” I shook my head and changed the subject. “What’s your real name?”
“What’s yours?”
“Olivia Gabriella Taylor.”
He shook his head. “That’s what you’re called now, like I’m called Horse, now. What was your name when you were born?”
He’d smell the lie if I told him I’d been born with that name, and it pissed me off he was prying when he’d said he wouldn’t pressure me. He must have smelled my anger because he immediately said, “You don’t have to tell me — I just wanted to point out sometimes you want to know stuff about people as you get to know them. You want to know my real name, I want to know yours. It’s natural, but no pressure.”
I didn’t want to fight with him, and didn’t want to talk about personal shit. I trailed my fingers down his chest to his abs, and then back up his chest. I ran a single finger along his lower lip and then caressed my way to his ear, watching his eyes and expression. Yeah, he wanted me again.
“I vote for doggie style, this time,” I told him.
When he moved to sit up, I went to all fours and wiggled my butt.
Chapter Eleven
Horse
She kept me busy all freaking night. She’s voracious, and every time I thought I was done she’d run her finger down my chest, or kiss my neck, and I’d be ready to go again.
I’m used to being in control during sex, and when I took control she gave it to me. However, when I wasn’t actively taking it, she stepped up and passively took over.
I’ve never enjoyed hurting women I care about — I want to make them feel good. The club sluts sometimes egg you on to get rough with them and hurt them, but even then I’d been super careful with them. I had mixed feelings about Gabby forever being an anal virgin, because I had no desire to hurt her, and yet knowing her body would make room for me �
�� I wondered. I didn’t bring it up, though. We kept busy with plenty of other activities, and when I went down on her I got to see what she meant about her body forming to fit whatever was working on her, because she tightened down so just my tongue in her sent her into the stratosphere.
* * * *
I took her to an all-you-can-eat breakfast bar the next morning, and I admit I was sad to see her put loose jeans and an oversized hoodie on over her mouthwatering body.
On the way there, I handed her my phone and asked her to store her number. She hesitated, but she did it, though I could smell her conflict. “You don’t want me to call you?”
“I think you want more than a fuckbuddy, and that’s all I’m interested in right now.”
“A partial truth.” I knew I was skating the edge of pushing her away, but I needed to figure out where her head was.
She sighed. “If I’m someday going to try to get hired by the FBI, having you show up as a serious relationship in my background won’t help.”
Neither of us said anything the couple of minutes it took me to pull into the restaurant, but once the truck was parked I turned to her and said, “I have a spotless record — no arrests, no convictions. I have a concealed carry license as well as an FFL so I can legally sell weapons. I’ve had to pass just about every high level screening a civilian can be put through.”
“But you’re part of a one-percenter motorcycle club.”
“I am, and the club is invested in my not getting into legal trouble. Technically, the club backed the gun shop with the inventory. It’s in my name and I get a substantial percentage of sales, but so does the club. They have several legal moneymaking endeavors, and the gun store is one of them. One of the members is away at a gunsmithing college in North Carolina. When he returns we’ll add gunsmith services as well. I’ve gone through a bunch of classes on how best to instruct people to handle firearms, and I teach a few classes a month. Plus, we offer fifteen minutes of instruction when someone buys a weapon from us.”