The Davenport Christmas Chronicles
still flat even after giving me my babies. She complained that she was getting old on occasion, but she simply grew more beautiful to me every day. I didn’t see the extra laugh lines she pointed out to me, because I only cared that I made her laugh. She was constantly trying to minimize stretchmarks, but I loved the way her body reminded me of the sacrifice she gave when carrying our children. There would never come a time when I’d want her to change anything. She was perfect.I ran my tongue through her folds and slid two fingers inside of her, pumping my hand slowly as I sucked her clit. She gripped my head, her leg over my shoulder digging into my back as I tasted the beauty that was her pussy.
“Con,” she panted out. “Harder.”
I slid another finger in and slapped my palm against her as I finger fucked her. Jesus, she was beautiful when she was turned on, but she was stunning when she came, so I worked her body until I knew she was close, then I drew her clit back into my mouth, blowing on the nub as she exploded around my fingers. I ran my tongue over her folds once more, before licking my fingers clean of her juices and standing to kiss her deeply.
I took a minute to work her nipples until I felt her shiver, then I slid my hand between her legs again and slapped her pussy gently. I wrapped my lips around a nipple, biting gently as she moved her hips against my hand, dropping her head back and gripping the table as I built her another orgasm.
Biting her nipple a little harder, she cried out and I felt her come again. I grinned, kissing her before turning her to face my desk.
Maisie
I forced myself not to scream as an orgasm washed over me. I had no time to appreciate it, as my man was on his feet and bending me over his desk.
“Spread, Sunshine.”
I spread, and he slid his dick into me from behind, his finger pressing against my clit.
“Con,” I whispered.
“What do you want, Sunshine?”
“All of it, darling.”
His fingers left my clit, and he slid one through my wetness, then pressed it into my tight hole.
“Oh, god, yes,” I hissed as he worked my pussy and my ass.
He thrust deeper into me, matching the rhythm of his finger with the rhythm of his cock, and I cried out as another orgasm swept over me. He wasn’t far behind, his cock pulsating inside of me as he leaned over me and kissed the middle of my back. “Jesus, baby, you’re perfect.”
I grinned. He said that after sex every time. He said it outside of sex as well, just not as much. And he never said it when he was cross with me, which I planned to bring up next time we argued. I couldn’t wait for his response.
Hatch pulled out of me, leaving me bent over the desk, while he grabbed the box of tissues on his desk and cleaned us up. He helped me with my clothes, then fixed his own, kissing me gently before we headed back to the kitchen.
“Hatch!” Booker called. “You got a sec?”
“You good, baby?” Hatch asked me.
“Yes, love. Go.”
He kissed me again and walked away. God, I loved my man.
* * *
Minus
It had only been a few months since I’d seen the Dogs of Fire founder and president, but he seemed to have aged several years within that time. I’d always admired Crow, even when the tension between our clubs led to my being exiled to Savannah. Crow was one of the last of the Portland O.G.s, and now that Cutter was gone it was hard not to see traces of him when I looked at him.
“It’s good to see you, Minus,” Crow greeted me warmly before taking his seat, followed by the rest of us. It felt strange to not be sitting at the head of the table myself, but this was Crow’s table, and I was merely here as an honored guest. Also, in attendance were their club’s V.P., Booker, Hatch, and half a dozen other high-ranking Dogs.
Crow and Cutter started the Dogs together, but Cutter split off to start the Burning Saints. The Dogs were a smaller club that put a higher emphasis on family than club life. At least that’s the way I saw it. They stayed (more or less) on the good side of the law, and even worked with law enforcement to take down some serious bad guys on more than one occasion. To say our clubs were opposites would be an understatement. We drew the line at running dope or girls, a vacuum the Gresham Spiders gladly filled, but beyond that, we were about getting paid. That is until cancer gave Cutter the ability to tell the future and he put a halt on our club’s way of life.
“I appreciate you all taking a few minutes away from your families today. I promise I won’t keep you long.” Crow spoke in a rich baritone. The rasp in his voice telling the story of every cigarette he’d ever smoked. “I’ve asked Minus, Clutch, and Warthog from the Burning Saints to join us, as what I have to say may affect them as well.”
I gave him a nod. “Thank you for having us and the other officers to your clubhouse for dinner. We appreciate the hospitality.”
Hands around the room slapped the table in agreement.
“I’ll get straight to it, then,” Crow continued. “I’m old as fuck and twice as tired. It’s time for me to retire and tonight I’m naming my successor.”
There were audible gasps, followed by confused glances, and finally an eruption of voices.
“Alright, calm the fuck down,” Crow said, before bringing his gavel down on the table.
Booker slid a gift toward Hatch.
“What the hell is this?” Hatch asked.
“Open it,” Booker said.
Hatch unwrapped the box and slid the top off, revealing a patch that read, ‘President.’
“What