Page 74 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

His eyes are on me as I lick my way up the underside of his cock and then close my mouth over the head, sucking at it lightly, letting my spit run down his shaft to make it slippery when I start working him with my hand too.

“River—” Priest chokes out. For a second, I think he’s going to tell me to stop. That there’s no point or something like that. But he doesn’t. He just says my name and then clenches one hand in the sheets, like he needs to hold on to something.

So I keep going, taking him deeper into my mouth. It’s always a strange and hot experience, to feel someone’s dick getting gradually harder in your mouth, and I feel a little thrill of triumph when it happens.

I take it slow, working my way down to the base of Priest’s cock, taking him all the way into the opening of my throat. It’s easy to do when he’s only half hard, and I savor that, humming around him as I suck my way back up and then lick around his smooth crown.

His cock gets harder for a bit, but then starts to fall again, going limp and flaccid the minute I’m not actively sucking him off. That doesn’t deter me, though. I keep sucking, keep working him with my hand, my mouth, my tongue. I tease his balls with one hand, cupping them and working them in time with the bobbing of my head.

Priest moans for me, trembling under my attention.

I can tell this isn’t easy for him, and every time he starts to go soft again, there’s a quiet groan.

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” he murmurs. “It’s not—fuck, I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

I lift my head enough that I can meet his gaze, taking in the harsh beauty of his face. He’s always been so fucking handsome, but different from the other guys. None of them are as model pretty as Ash, and Knox and Gage both have their own things that make them hot, but Priest stands out. His looks are more striking than anything, angular and jagged, like he could cut you as soon as you look at him.

There’s a vulnerability in his blue eyes when he looks at me, and I give him a little smile, hoping it’s reassuring.

“It’s okay,” I tell him again, my voice a bit husky. “I like it. I want to.”

“Fuck,” he groans, and I can tell it’s not with defeat.

That’s all I need to hear.

Maybe heisbroken just like I am, and maybe neither one of us will ever be fixed. I can’t erase his past or flip some switch to make him better. But I’m determined to make him feelgood.

I tug his pants and boxers all the way off, then pull his shirt over his head, baring him completely to my greedy gaze. I drag my fingers down his chest and abs, scraping lightly with my fingernails and making him shudder. Then I take him back in my mouth, working my way back down to hold him in my throat. I swallow around him a few times and then pull off, wet strings of saliva connecting my mouth to his dick.

Priest’s eyes flash with heat, and his cock starts to fill again. I take it even slower this time, patience in every movement as I kiss and lick at his head for long moments before working my way down again.

I lick his shaft and then go lower to tongue at his balls, feeling them heavy and hot against my tongue.

His cock keeps filling, growing and getting harder, and I can tell from Priest’s harsh breathing that he’s getting closer to the edge.

I take him back into my mouth, humming around him, working him a little faster now. The sounds of my sucking echo in his room, and he groans, settling a hand in my hair for a second.

There’s tension in his body, like a thread pulled tighter and tighter, getting ready to snap.

“River,” he groans, and I love the way he makes my name sound when he says it like that. “I’m—fuck. I’m close. Fuck.”

He sounds wrecked and almost broken just from that, and I keep it up, not giving the pleasure a chance to recede. His balls draw up, and I know he’s right there, right on that ledge of falling apart completely.

Before I can take him over the edge, though, his fingers go tight in my hair. He pulls me off his cock and pushes me back, switching our positions so he’s on top.

He’s like a man possessed again, riding that pleasure and the connection between us. This time, it’s all desire driving him, and there’s none of the tortured fury in his eyes from earlier. Just the need to get off.

I think he might go for my pussy, but he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs my tits, squeezing them together. His cock nestles between them, hot and hard, and he strokes himself against my body, using it for his own pleasure.

I like that, so I let him know by moaning for him, wetting my lips and angling my head so I can lick the tip of his cock every time it gets close enough.

His cock drags against my skin again and again, and Priest fucks my tits like a wild man, desperate and forceful. He doesn’t stop, gasping for breath, alternating between moans and harsh curses as he gets even closer.

“Please,” I pant, even though I’m not the one trembling on the verge of an orgasm. “Please. I want you to come for me. Please. I want to feel it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts back, and it almost sounds like a sob from how desperate he is. “Fuck, River. I’m—goddammit.”

“Come on. Come on, Priest.”

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