Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition by Elizabeth Knox (top 5 ebook reader txt) 📕

All this time with all her customers with their big money and little pricks . . . and this was what she had been missing.

5

Magenta might be a maned wolf shifter but she was a wildcat tonight. Quake felt her fingernails dig trenches in the muscles of his shoulders, scoring his flesh with her claws. He grunted, gladly taking the pain when it made his cock swell and her pussy gush to feel it. She scratched him again, silently urging him on, rippling her vaginal muscles to squeeze his dick, her pussy walls milking his length.

Pressing his face against the side of Magenta’s neck, he bit her shoulder, scoring her with his teeth, marking her like an Alpha wolf would mark his mate. Feeling it, she screamed his name, coming with an intensity that stole her breath and made him smile.

He was still hard inside her, riding her body and wringing every ounce of pleasure from her.

“That’s it, scream it,” he grated. “Scream my name.”

Another wave of pleasure hit her hard with her second orgasm. She clawed his back, begging for another.

Quake grinned against her shoulder. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you, duchess?”

Clinging to him, she moved her hips, joining his rhythm and cresting through two more releases. Quake grew harder inside her, managing a partial shift that made him bigger all over, including down there. His cock jerked, warning him in time to pull out free and clear. Releasing her leg, he wrapped his hand around his shaft and finished outside her. Three pumps and he was spurting cum in the cascading water between them.

Resting against the wall, her chest rising and falling with quick sharp pants, Magenta watched it vanish down the drain.

Next time, he’d use a condom and hate it, now that he knew what she felt like skin to skin.

Aftercare was washing her hair, cleaning her off, and toweling her dry. The scalp massage he gave her had her purring. By the time he finished with her, she was so relaxed, he worried about her slipping on the bathroom floor. Rather than risk it, he carried her to bed and tucked her in, pressing a kiss against her forehead when he saw she was asleep.

He considered getting dressed but if the jackals came back, a full shift would ruin his clothes. He considered climbing in bed with her but knew he’d screw her all night if he did. She wouldn’t be dancing for a week, and Madam Belle would be pissed.

And so he stood, naked and silent, watching his favorite fantasy dream, hopefully of him.

Madam Belle and the other girls came in hours later after shutting down the stages and servicing their johns.

“Jesus, I completely fucked up out there,” one of them moaned.

“Barbie, no one noticed but us,” a stripper he recognized as Cinnamon replied. “You’re new at this. It’s normal to screw up the first few nights.”

“Did you see those Hell’s Fury bikers?” Candy sighed dreamily. “Mason was amazing.”

“Those jackals are nothing but trouble,” Cinnamon grumbled. “They should be banned, especially after what they did at The Scratch Post.”

“Belle won’t let that happen here,” Candy told her firmly. “Phantom won’t be allowed back in The Pole Barn. If anyone in the Death’s Head MC ticks off another bad box, she’ll permanently banish their entire club. God knows what they’ll do to retaliate. Jackals never let go of a grudge.”

Quake knew that was true. There was already bad blood between his club and theirs. The women were going to have to be careful. Hopefully, Madam Belle would beef up their security.

The footsteps and voices receded. He listened to the muffled conversations from the other rooms until they drifted into silence. Attention returning to the woman in the bed, he watched her sleeping soundly, marking the minutes by the steady beat of her heart and the measured whispers of her breath.

He remained where he was, a protective sentinel until the first rays of dawn crept in through the drawn curtains of the window. The sunlight chased away the darkness, growing in brightness to bathe the room in a golden glow.

Back at the clubhouse, his brothers would be stirring, filtering into the communal dining hall to wake up with coffee and break their fast. Being much older than their robes of flesh appeared, he and his brothers often used antiquated language. The first meal of the day was breaking their fast, not breakfast. Language evolved but sometimes older was better.

Right now, his body was craving caffeine. And food. His stomach growled loudly enough to wake his sleeping beauty.

Magenta opened her eyes and smiled dreamily. “You’re here.”

Quake shrugged a shoulder like it was no big deal. “You asked me to stay. I assumed that’s what you wanted.”

His stomach growled again.

Magenta giggled and threw back the covers, revealing the sight of her gloriously nude body rising from the bed like Venus from the sea. “Get dressed,” she ordered. “I’ll make us some breakfast. That’s the least I can do.”

Padding to her dresser, she pulled on a pair of yoga pants and slipped into a Dread Monkeys T-shirt. Shifters supporting other shifters. The Dread Monkeys were simian siblings and cousins from Bloomington, Illinois, who played in an indie rock band. A fan of their music, Quake approved.

“You have to be quiet,” she whispered. “We’re not supposed to bring men here. Belle will want to break balls if she catches us.”

Not wanting a pixie dick like Magenta had threatened Phantom with, he got dressed and followed her down, maintaining his silence in the kitchen while he watched her work.

Quake sat at the table, nursing the cup of fancy coffee she brewed for him. Caramel vanilla with a hint of chocolate seemed to be the favorite of the women here. Or maybe it was just hers. He’d rather have plain coffee but he humored her, figuring if she went to the trouble of making it, he could damn