Chapter Twenty-One
Adouble bed,neatly made, stood in the middle of a nice-sized room. A nightstand on each side of the bed, two chrome lamps with gray shades, and a tall dresser where sunglasses and a stack of rolling papers sat on top of it. There were so many posters of motorcycles, bands, and Day of the Dead vignettes on the walls that Raven wasn’t too sure of the paint color behind them. In the corner stood a black and gray upholstered armchair that had a leather jacket and a couple pairs of jeans draped over it.
Her gaze gravitated back to the paintings and she smiled. Being in his room gave her a glimpse into his passion and his soul. “I didn’t know you liked paintings. I love your collection of Day of the Dead reproductions. Diego Rivera is one of my favorite artists, and his oil paintings of the Mexican holiday are awesome. I’d kill to own an original.”
“It’s actually my favorite holiday after Halloween.” He grinned. “If there’re skulls, ghouls, and demons, I’m in.” He pulled off his boots.
“Is that where your name comes from?”
“In a way. When I first started as a prospect, I’d told them that the one day I couldn’t hang was November first because my family and I went to the cemetery to decorate and bring food to our ancestors. So it was that, coupled with a few altercations I had with assholes who like messing with bikers, that gave me my road name.” When he walked by her, he stopped, kissed her briefly on the lips, and then went over to his computer on a small table next to the armchair. “It’s cool you’re into it.”
In a matter of minutes, the beats of a Hammerfall song curled around her, and she laughed. “I can’t fucking believe this. Hammerfall is one of my favorite bands. I saw them in Denver last year and it was one of the best concerts I’ve been to. This is totally lit as fuck.”
“Seems like we have some good shit in common. I like that.” He stripped down to his jeans and then poured her a drink. “Get comfortable,” he said as he put her drink on the nightstand.
She kicked off her heels and sat on the bed cross-legged. After taking a sip, she held the glass in her hands and looked at him. “I think your club hates me.” She grimaced.
Laughing, he shook his head. “They’ll get over it. They were the ones who wanted to play. I warned them that you were a badass player.” He took a gulp of whiskey.
“Sometimes it’s good for a man to have his ego taken down a few notches by a woman.” Smiling, she brought the glass to her mouth.
“Devoradora,” he said softly. He finished his drink and, with the bottle of Jack in his hand, went over to her. The mattress sagged when he sat down. After taking a swig from the bottle, he put it on the nightstand and turned to her. “Baby, you got a hold of my cock like no other woman ever has.” His finger running up her arm made her skin pebble. “I loved watching you play tonight, and it made my dick so fuckin’ hard.” Tugging her to him, he kissed her firmly on the lips.
He tasted smoky and she grasped his face, drew him closer to her and kissed him deeply. Pulling back, she smiled and licked her lips. “You taste good.” Standing up, she buried her hand in her pockets and took out the money she’d won. A few of the bills ripped and she giggled.
“I’m surprised you could put anything in those jeans. Woman, the way you wear clothes and move makes me all kinds of crazy. Now take off those tight-ass jeans so I can touch your skin.”
When she walked over to the dresser to put her money on top, she exaggerated her moves, swaying her hips even more. Behind her, Muerto whistled under his breath. With her back to him, she unzipped her jeans and slowly slid them down, bending over to peel them off each leg. She’d worn a thong, and when she heard him inhale sharply, she felt a flush of heat rise in her.
“If you’re trying to make me hard, it’s working,” he said thickly. “Get your hot little ass over here.”
Before she went to him, she took her time, counting her winnings, finger-combing her hair, and looking out the window at the quarter moon and blinking stars.
“Sweetie… I’m dying here,” he said, and she knew he was loving the game. With deliberately slow movements, she turned around and took small steps. When she was finally within arm’s reach, he grabbed her and yanked hard. Yelping, she toppled over, landing on his firm chest and hard-as-stone cock.
Before she could chastise him, he silenced her by devouring her mouth. As he kissed her, he rubbed his hands firmly up and down her back. Soon her sexual hunger began to build, and she grabbed his hair and tangled it around her fingers, tugging it harder as her desire grew. His hands were touching her shoulders, back, and sides as he alternated his kisses between her lips, neck, and earlobes. Raspy whispers of “You’re so fuckin’ sexy” and “I can’t get enough of you, babe” scorched her senses, sending her arousal to an all-time high. And each long stroke of his tongue sent another shiver of pleasure through her body.
In one movement, she was on her back and he was hovering over her, his palm grazing her exposed breasts. A guttural moan rose from deep in her throat when he sucked her nipples, gently at first but then with a ferocity that both titillated and frightened her. Kisses, licks, and bites covered her neck, shoulders, throat, tits, and belly, and as he colored her pale skin with shades of red, her pussy flooded with heat. Her body wanted everything he could give it and much more.
Clasping her wrists firmly, he raised them above her head and held them there while he tormented her body with hot, fervid kisses. “You like that?” he said against her skin.
Panting, she breathed, “Yeah.” Looking at her, he swallowed her pants as his free hand tickled her taut skin lightly. The way he touched and looked at her left her pussy tingling and throbbing.
Dragging his mouth down her throat, he said, “Leave your hands above your head.” He brought his down to her flesh, tweaking, pinching, and scratching their way down to her aching, sopping sex. When he slowly pulled her thong down with his teeth, the anticipation of what was to come was agony for her. He kissed his way up from her feet to her inner thighs. Heat pulsed between her legs.
When he slid his finger into her wet, engorged folds, lightning bolted up her spine. “Muerto,” she gasped as she clawed at the headboard. She was already on the edge.
His day-old scruff scratched her as he moved his face close to her sex. Inhaling deeply, his gaze, heated by lust, captured hers. “I can’t get enough of your smell.”
Desire tore through her and she pushed his face into her aching pussy. His chuckle vibrated against the sensitive folds, fueling the fire of passion even more. At first, his tongue teased her softly, slowly, but then he picked up the pace, licking her like he was possessed.
“Oh… fuck!” she cried out. Each moan, each cry seemed to drive him faster, reaching a frenzied state, until her insides lit up as if emblazoned with glitter paint and streaks of color floated deep in her. Closing her eyes, the sheet stuffed in her fist, she rode the waves of neon green, yellow, and purple. And as the spasms and colors mixed together and became a rainbow, her body rose higher, ethereal in its ascent.
Before she came back down, he was kissing her, mixing her salty sweetness with his smokiness, his tongue and hers tangling in a seductive dance.
“That was unbelievable,” she said as she dug her fingers into his hard flesh.
“Watching you come is what’s unbelievable.” He stroked her cheek and kissed her again, more gently.
