Page 101 of Whips and Chains
She too was a bigger woman, with thick thighs and belly rolls she didn’t try to cover up as Grayson stroked his hands across her midsection. There was a tenderness in his touch and she snaked a hand to rest at the back of his neck. She twisted, drawing him in for a kiss, while the biker watched, his hand still busily working her toward an orgasm they didn’t seem to care that everyone was watching.
A rush of excitement filled me, seeing these women with stretchmarks, and heavy breasts that weren’t perky, and arms that jiggled. They had men who adored them. Men who worshipped the very ground they walked on. There were body shapes of all kinds in this room. Some of the other women were older, some younger. Some skinny with fake tits that didn’t move, and others with barely any. They were tall and short. Thick and not.
But the one thing that was obvious to me was that they were wanted here. Accepted. The men outnumbered the women three to one, easily. And hell, maybe some of them just wanted to get their dicks wet, and whoever they took that night would be nothing but a quick fuck, never to be repeated.
But the overwhelming feeling in the room was one of respect I wouldn’t have expected from a biker club.
I suspected it was a tone War had begun by being with Bliss, the way he was. His strong leadership had created this space, where women felt safe to be open and vulnerable with their sexuality.
And the vibe was contagious.
I realized I hadn’t even answered Levi’s question about whether I wanted him and Whip to take me to bed tonight.
Both of them were still staring at me, waiting on an answer.
Nerves suddenly rocketed around my belly.
My gaze strayed over Levi’s shoulder at Bliss and War and Scythe.
All three of them moved in unison. Both men thrusting into her at once, their hips rolling, her head dropped back on Scythe’s shoulder, her fingers clutching War for support.
How did that even work? Was one in her ass and one in her pussy? Were they both in her pussy?
I knew how big both Whip and Levi were.
I doubted I could do either.
Levi leaned in and kissed my neck. “Talk to us.”
Whip inched closer, his hand pressing against my thigh. The heat of it radiated through my skirt, and his thumb rubbed along the fabric, bunching it up a little with each stroke. It lifted higher and higher, until the hem was just above my knee and he was stroking my skin instead.
In terms of what else was going on in the room right now, this was tame. And yet I burned all over, both with desire for more and shock that I was letting two men touch me like this.
Whip’s hand slid a little higher, inching between my thighs, teasing them open with slow, gentle movements. His gaze bored into mine, so I knew he could see the desire there, hear the shocked, shallow breaths.
“Tell me to stop,” he urged.
My pussy throbbed, aching to have him move his hands just a few inches higher. “I can’t,” I admitted.
Levi’s hand squeezed the thigh closest to him. “Then say you want it.”
His finger brushed over my panties, and my breath hitched.
I was in the middle of a room full of people, and though I caught the glances of a few, nobody sat across from us to openly stare. This wasn’t exactly like Psychos, where that sort of behavior was encouraged. Sex was definitely in the air here, and Bliss’s moans from the corner charged the room with a sexual energy. But Queenie and Aloha were slow dancing to an old song, their arms wrapped around each other. Grayson andhis partners were too involved with each other to notice what anyone else was doing. Others were coupled off, and there was a group of guys, clearly the ones who weren’t lucky enough to have a woman between them tonight, sitting around a table, a very intense game of poker going on.
They’d clearly seen this sort of thing a million times before, because none of them blinked an eye.
Bliss, Scythe, and War having a full-blown threesome in the corner didn’t feel odd or even like a spectacle.
It just felt…hot. And bold. And…
Free.
That was a heady feeling, one I wanted for myself so badly. I was so sick of twisting myself into knots, wrestling with guilt over everything I did, wondering if I was embarrassing myself or if people were staring at me. I had always hated how tall I was, how thick. It drew attention I didn’t want. Made me stick out of a crowd when I just wanted to blend in.
But here, with a few beers swirling in my system and danger looming on the horizon, I couldn’t care about any of that.
There was a high probability of me dying before I even had the chance to really live. It was just fact. I no longer felt like I was going to live forever. Toby’s death had put a big fucking dent in that notion.
