Marcus (Savage Kings MC – South Carolina Book Series 9)

Marcus: Chapter 17



Marcus has been gone for hours.

All day long, in fact.

I don’t even have a clue when he left or where he went precisely.

At first, when I woke up and found his side of the bed empty, I figured he had gone to get us breakfast.

Then, before I knew it, lunch time rolled around, and still there was no sign of him.

And it’s not like I have his phone number to call him.

No, instead, I called in a pizza early in the afternoon when I was starving, using the money he apparently left on the kitchen counter for me to do just that.

When he’s not back by dinner time, I start to worry that he’s had enough of me and has moved on to some other woman. Is he just going to stay away until I take the hint and leave? Has he realized that I’ve practically moved in with him after three nights?

If so, that will suck royally, and probably ruin everything.

I’m lying in his bed in the darkness, the glow from the television the only light in the room as I flip channels absently when I finally hear the front door open.

Scrambling off the bed, I hurry into the living room to see him, to see if I can tell by the look on his face how he’s feeling about us, or if he smells like perfume because he’s been out fucking some other slut.

“Hey,” I say in greeting. I take him in as he walks across the room in his usual jeans, tee and leather cut. There’s no anger or guilt on his face. At least, I don’t think so. “I was starting to get worried about you,” I add, rather than demand to know where he’s been. That shit doesn’t work on bad boy bikers. Based on the plastic and brown bags in his hands, he at least thought to get us some food.

“You hungry?” he asks as he comes closer. “I picked up some Japanese hibachi.”

“I could eat again, yeah,” I agree since it’s been hours since I had pizza. Honestly, I’m just happy that he hasn’t thrown me out yet.

He walks past me, briefly eyeing his oversized shirt I put on earlier before going into the kitchen and setting the bags down on the counter.

“I got you something too,” he says with his back to me.

“Oh yeah?” I ask in surprise.

The last thing I expected was for him to pull a small leather cut from the plastic bag. Turning around, Marcus tosses it to me. I catch it and lift it to my face, loving the smell of new leather. It’s something that will always remind me of my father. Holding the leather up in front of me, I grin like an idiot when I see the words “Savage Kings” and “Myrtle Beach” on the white, narrow patches on either side of the front chest, and then when I turn it around to see the back, there’s a big white rocker patch on the lower bottom that says, “Prospect.”

“Are you serious? Is this real?” I ask him since I thought for sure he would try and backpedal out of the agreement he made last night while I was teasing his dick.

“It’s real,” he replies. “Try it on.”

Without any further encouragement, I yank the t-shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the floor to slide my arms through the leather, wearing the short cut that comes to my waist and nothing else as I turn this way and that to show Marcus.

“What do you think?” I ask him. I zip up the front but only just above my belly button so that most of my bare tits are still out for him.

The look on his face is priceless. His eyes are taking me in like he can’t decide which part he likes better – my boobs hanging out the top or that my pussy is easily visible and readily accessible since I’m not wearing any panties.

Oh, I think I know what part he’ll like the best.

Turning around, I show him the back of the cut that only reaches my lower back, so my bare ass is hanging out.

“Do you like it?” I ask him over my shoulder.

“It’s fucking perfect,” he says, so I let him admire my backside for a few more seconds. “From now on, you wear that and nothing else around my house,” Marcus orders, his voice deep and commanding.

Just hearing how turned on he is from looking at me and thinking about how much fun it will be when he’s fucking me in nothing but the leather has me soaking wet.

Instead of going to him, though, I head for the bathroom in his bedroom. I flip on the overhead lights to get a look at myself in the mirror.

The leather is snug on my waist, lifting my breasts up in offering with it zipped up. Before I can spin around to check out the back, Marcus is there, standing behind me. He followed me in here like a puppy dog, unable to stay away.

Both of his palms grab my ass, squeezing and spreading my cheeks apart. I love being able to watch his face in the mirror as he fondles his favorite body part. “Is this finally feeling any better?” he asks.

“Uh-huh. It’s started healing up,” I agree. It hasn’t been hurting much at all; it’s just a little tender to touch, but I play it up.

A deep groan vibrates up his throat. “I want to bend you over and whip your ass with my belt or that paddle you bought me so fucking bad.”

“Me too.”

“Not until you heal up.”

Since that’s going to take days, I’m relieved since that means he’s not going to be kicking me out anytime soon. In fact, it’ll be the perfect way to stay because Marcus won’t be able to resist spanking me with his belt every few days. Then, he’ll feel guilty, so he’ll let me stay and wait on me to try and make up for it.

It’s a cycle I can definitely live with – a little pain for a lot of pleasure to get what I really want. Marcus is obsessed with spankings, for some reason. He obviously gets off on it. So, it won’t take long until he’s obsessed with spanking me. I’ll give him what he probably can’t get anywhere else because how he likes it – well, it does hurt. Bad. So, it’s a good thing I’m a pain slut.

That’s something I didn’t know about myself until the night when Marcus bent me over, pulled my pants off and spanked me for the first time in my life. I really liked that he liked it.

All I could think in the moment was harder and more, each slap of his belt working me up a little more toward a release until I couldn’t resist touching myself, getting myself off right then and there.

Marcus’s palms are still squeezing my ass like he really wants to add more marks and is barely able to restrain himself. I make a whimpering sound like it hurts, and that’s all it takes for Marcus to drop to his knees. Then, it’s his mouth that’s moving over my ass cheeks, kissing, licking, sucking.

I wish I could see him, but I can’t in the mirror, and I don’t dare move my head or any part of my body as his tongue moves lower and lower until finally… “Oh God!” I exclaim as his tongue glides over my slit, then back and forth, teasing me.

I spread my legs wider and bend forward, bracing my forearms on either side of the sink counter to encourage him to keep going.

“Do you have any idea…how much…I want you?” he asks between licks before he, unfortunately, lifts his head to kiss my ass cheek again. “All I’ve thought about all day is being buried in this tight little pussy of yours and fucking your mouth.” His teeth bite down hard on the meaty part of my ass, making me gasp so loudly I barely hear him say, “So why am I on my knees with my tongue between your legs?”

His wet tongue drags downward until he’s thrusting it up into my pussy, fucking me with the slick, teasing body part that’s not quite long or hard enough to fill but still feels amazing.

“Answer me!” Marcus demands when he pulls his mouth away and swats my bottom with his palm.

“I-I don’t know,” I reply since he could’ve stood up and shoved his cock inside of me by now or pushed me to my knees, but he didn’t. “To convince me to…give you what you want?”

He sinks his tongue into me again and swirls it around, making me moan his name when he takes it away.

When two of his thick fingers suddenly plunge inside of me, my upper body pops up in surprise. Then, I’m holding on to either side of the sink as Marcus devours me until I can barely stay standing. My legs tremble, my knees give out. The only thing keeping me upright is my grip on the counter. Marcus’s pumping fingers and flicking tongue send me over the edge with an orgasm so intense tears leak from my eyes.

They’re still closed when the first hard smack of his palm lands on my ass cheek. It’s quickly followed by another and another.

“This is for…what you do…to me,” he grits out with each painful slap of his palm connecting with my flesh, burning it up.

“W-what do I do?” I ask when he finally stops spanking me.

I hear the crinkling of a foil wrapper. A moment later, he’s rubbing the blunt head of his cock over my dripping wet entrance.

“You make me fucking crazy,” Marcus growls.

Then, I’m suddenly full of him. So full I can’t breathe.

My eyes blink open to find his reflection in the mirror. He’s watching my face as he pounds into me so hard and fast that I can’t seem to suck in enough air to cry out.

Without losing his rhythm, Marcus reaches around to tug the zipper of my cut down, and then his greedy hands are on my breasts, treating them in the same rough way he treated my ass. His fevered gaze holds mine as he slips one hand down to cup my pussy possessively before his fingertips start to play with my clit. He knows exactly how to touch me, better than I know myself.

As I race toward another release, Marcus’s head comes around my shoulder. He lifts my tit, putting my nipple to his mouth with his free hand to suck it for maybe a second before biting down with his teeth, making me cry out.

“See how fucking crazy you make me?” he asks, running his tongue over the indentions his teeth left. “It’s all your fault I hurt you, you dirty little slut.”

“Yes!” I agree. I shouldn’t like being called dirty or a slut, but I do. I know his insults are actually meant as compliments. It’s my fault he loses control when we’re together, and I love that I have that effect on him.

“I’m your dirty little slut,” I tell him. “Bite me. Punish me. I don’t care what you do, just don’t stop!”

Doing the exact opposite of what I need, Marcus freezes and stares at my face in the mirror. I’m worried I said or did something wrong and am about to ask what before he picks things back up, fucking me even faster than before.

His teeth worry my nipple but don’t bite it hard. He just tugs on it a little, sending a jolt of pleasure right down to my belly.

I come just like that, with his cock slamming deep inside me over and over again from behind, his mouth on my breast, fingers on my clit, and his intense eyes glued to my face.


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