Page 54 of Hostile Saint

Climbing Walls

Picture-perfect naked breasts jiggled as she giggled. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

My knees digging into the mattress, I was in awe. “Lace, I’ve never been so turned on in my life.”

Her silky leg wrapped around my waist and pulled me to her. “Then be with me.”

Her wet core brushed against my painful erection, coaxing me to find my way inside. Found, I shuddered as I slid home. “This will never get old.”

She arched underneath me, her eyes falling shut. “Make me come, Tate.”

Breathless, I stroked in and out of excellence, begging my body not to orgasm until she did. As her moans escalated, my balls coiled up so tight—so ready to burst.

She whimpered, “Yes. There. More. More, Tate.”

As her head began to thrash against the pillow, I pumped and pumped, soon groaning through my own epic relief—

My eyes opened.

My belly was laying on wet sheets.

I froze.

Was it morning? Had a Stallion, sitting in a chair, just watched me ejaculate against a mattress? Then I remembered taking a nap since it was possible I would be up late with Lacey that night. In relief, I sunk into the bed, then cursed because my sheets were sticky.

Rolling out of bed, I stared at my stomach while asking myself, “Shower time?”

Once clean and dressed, I stared at my bed. “How the fuck do I explain this?”

Then I quickly yanked the blanket free and removed the sheets, balling them up and tucking them under my arm, telling myself, “Act cool. They know nothing.”

Walking through the living room, I refused to look at the bikers as I marched toward the kitchen. They were on the back porch, standing there, watching me, smoking cigarettes and grinning.

Lynx knocked on the glass as I walked past them. “What’s wrong with your sheets, Pup?”

Dagger had apparently delivered such a good time to a club girl the night prior, she came over the next morning and cleaned the house—including the fucking sheets.

Here I was, after a goddamn nap, rewashing them. “I, uh, spilled a drink.”

The joined laughter was so loud, the sliding glass doors shook.

Almost at the kitchen door that led to the garage, I mumbled, “Fuckers.”

In the woods, holding milkshakes, the four of us stared up at the Serenity Institute. There were only a couple of dim outside lights on, so crossing the grass undetected would be easy enough. There weren’t any lights on in the patients’ bedrooms, including Lacey’s.

“Do you think she’s awake?”

“She will be after you wake her,” replied Vice.

“We didn’t come out here for nothin’, kid,” added Dagger.

Vice clamped his paw on my shoulder and shook it. “Good thing you got the preshow out of the way.”

I shrugged him off. “I said I spilled something.”

Sucking chocolate shake through a straw, Dagger chuckled. “Ya sure did. Out of your cock.”

I grumbled, “Assholes,” as I made sure Lacey’s vanilla shake and two straws were wrapped tight in a plastic bag.