Sinner on a Steel Horse (Erotic Motorcycle Club Biker Romance) (4 page)

He gripped me hard by the ass now and I let out a yelp as he pulled me down onto his cock. I squealed as he spread my ass cheeks apart—I felt so vulnerable, here in the garden, spread open and plunging onto his cock. He grunted as my pussy massaged his cock and I could only moan in response, my body quivering around him.

“I’m getting close,” he grunted. And oh, boy, could I feel it… I felt him twitching inside of me, his cock throbbing, expanding, filling me up even more. This was a feeling I had felt before, years ago, of course… But I couldn’t even remember the sensation. It was a distant memory, lost in the fog of my youth. I had been kind of drunk at the time and it was over before I knew what was happening. But here, with Finn, every stroke, every movement of his cock, every moment was poetry.

And then he was cumming, his cock flooding my tight chamber with his hot, stickiness. I gasped. It had been years. And it felt… Incredible. I sighed and threw my head back, groaning as his cock throbbed, as it pumped, pulsating inside of me and filling my wet core with his seed.

“Oh, shit…” he moaned as he gripped my ass, his dirty fingernails almost drawing blood and cutting into my soft skin.

The sudden pain elicited a gasp from my lips and before I knew it, the waves of orgasm were washing over me as well. I gripped my tits hard, squeezing my nipples, wincing and whimpering the pleasure into every cell of my body.

“Oh, god, it’s so good…” I whined as my body burst into blossoms of pleasure, my pussy spasming around his cock, my ass shuddering and my insides convulsing. My orgasm seemed to go on forever, with those few seconds of divine pleasure stretching out into an eternity of ecstasy. Finally, I finished. I rolled off Finn and lay next to him, his cum dribbling out of my well-fucked pussy.

“What will you do now?” I asked finally after several minutes of silence. Finn had lit a cigarette and the smoke pooled into thin clouds over us. As it drifted near my face, I coughed and blew it away as best I could.

“Go on the run, I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “By now, there won’t be that many of us left.”

“Who’s us?”

“The Damned,” he answered. “That’s what that was—with the two knuckleheads who came after me. It was a move against our club—a move to ice all of us. The Damned are over, I’m willing to bet.”

It was a somber moment and we lay in sober silence. I wondered if he expected me, as a woman of the cloth, to say something, to offer some sort of solace for his fallen comrades. I couldn’t think of anything to say and besides, he didn’t ask me to say anything.

“But I’ll keep wearing the colors, until they find me and kill me,” he said with grim confidence. “I’ll be the last of the Damned, if I have to be. They won’t kill the club till they kill me. And damned if I don’t take some of those assholes with me.”

“Why don’t you just… stop? Why don’t you get out of this life?” I asked, perplexed. “You could run. Change your name. Do something else. Go to a different state, maybe. I bet they wouldn’t find you. Or maybe go to the police and get into the witness protection program in exchange for testimony.”

My father was a lawyer and that just seemed like the natural thing to do. But Finn shook his head.

“Nah, you don’t understand. It’s not so easy. Once you’re in this life, you don’t leave it. You’re a prisoner.”

Oh, but I did understand. I knew exactly what he was talking about. The thing was, the life Finn led was one he loved. I could tell—could tell that he loved the open road, the freedom of being in his club, of living outside the every day world that all the rest of society seemed so interminably stuck in. The life I lived, though, I would leave in a second. If I could.

“I think I understand better than you realize,” I replied finally, after thinking it over. “Only one of us is technically celibate.”

Finn looked around.

“I don’t see no one like that ‘round here.” I punched his arm playfully.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me?” he said after a pause, taking a drag on his cigarette. My heart stopped.

“What? With you?”

“Yeah. I got my bike stashed over by the highway. You can just… run away. Get the hell out of this shitty convent. Don’t tell me you’re gonna’ stay after this. You broke your vows.”

I couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Finn… I have to stay.”

“Why? Why not come with me?”

“I just met you.”

“How long did you know you wanted to be a nun before you became one?”

“I didn’t become a nun by choice.”

“So, choose to do something for once in your life!” he said, a little too loudly. I had to hush him—I was still paranoid about someone from the convent overhearing us.

I shook my head. Tears were coming to my eyes. I was scared and I wanted to go with him but I couldn’t make myself. I just couldn’t. I can’t explain now why I didn’t go with him then but it just seemed so impossible, the world outside the convent walls looming so large, so strange and new.

Finally, Finn staggered to his feet. I was surprised by his resiliency, his ability to bounce back. He had been gushing blood only a few hours ago and now, he stood to his full height. I realized that he was tall—very tall, at least six and a half feet. It hadn’t been apparent to me initially because he had been on the ground for almost the entire time I had known him.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to… whatever this is.”

He gestured vaguely at my garden, and towards the convent beyond the trees. I suddenly felt very naked, like Eve in the Garden of Eden. I had been seduced by the snake and I wanted to go with the snake, to leave the garden. I blushed and tried to cover myself.

“Take care of yourself, Finn,” I said softly, unable to meet his eyes.

He reached out to take me in his arms once more and kiss me but I drew back. He sighed.

“You too, sister.”

~

I returned to the convent late that evening. I was late for evening prayers and so I faced a punishment—a hundred Rosaries over the course of the night. Honestly, that’s not even that big a deal. I started off saying them and then, eventually, I found myself trailing off, starting over, and finally giving up. I just pretend to mouth the words and I fingered my rosary beads and for all intents and purposes, it looked as though I were dutifully saying my prayers.

Weeks passed. The fact was, I missed Finn and I missed him bad. I wished I had gone with him. If I could go back and smack that silly girl in the garden with him, I would do it. I would yell at her to run, run far away from this place. Get out while I still could, before I became crusty and old like the mother superior.

I felt bolder now. My loins still ached from riding Finn and I felt, somehow, older than the other nuns, for I had experienced more. I had known a man, and more than once, but also recently: I knew what we were all missing out on, the feel of his muscles under my fingers, the feel of his cock inside of me, the feel of his lips on mine. It drove me mad to remember it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop reminiscing about that one afternoon.

It was one night, six weeks later, when I lay in my bed, unable to sleep. My windows were open, casting pale moonlight on my dull, uninspired room—the usual accommodations for nuns. As usual, I was thinking about Finn. I wondered if this were healthy—certainly, I shouldn’t be obsessing so much over one man…

And then I heard it. It sounded like… Climbing? Two hands appeared on my window sill and my eyes widened. I tried to draw closer to myself in bed, almost curling up into a fetal position but keeping my eyes directly on the window. Who the hell was that? A burglar? He had to know this was a convent—we didn’t have anything of value… Except a lot of virgins. Shit.

The burglar climbed into the window. He wore a black ski mask, a black leather jacket, what seemed like black jeans… And he was tall. Could it be?

“Finn?” I whispered into the darkness. The figure pulled his ski mask up, just enough so I could see his mouth. He drew a gun and leveled it at me. Okay, maybe it wasn’t Finn.

“You’re coming with me, sister,” the burglar growled. I nodded silently—what else was I going to do?

“Can I grab some things?”

“Two minutes.”

I got out of bed and very deliberately packed jeans, underwear, bras, any clothing I thought I would need. I have a small day bag that I used to take to visit my parents. I haven’t visited them since Thanksgiving of last year now, though, so it has mostly stood empty and unused. I filled it now with clothing and even tossed in my copy of Dante. Why not, I figured.

The followed the burglar to the window and as I peered over the sill, I saw a latter leading from my window down. Not too subtle but it was night time at a convent in a remote location, so who was going to see it?

We descended the latter and I followed the burglar through the convent grounds. Finally, we came to his motorcycle, just outside of the walls. It was a powerful, beautiful machine: a classic Harley and way bigger than I would have thought it would be. There were flames painted along the side but they weren’t nearly as cheesy as you would think they would be. They were faded and dusty, so clearly, this bike was not a showpiece item. It was meant for riding.

Now, the burglar pulled off his mask. In the pale moonlight, I saw that my first suspicion had been correct. It was Finn.

“Oh, god, I missed you,” I gasped as I flew into his arms. He pushed me away, though. He gestured at me with the gun.

“There’s a helmet on the bike. Get on. We’re leaving.”

“Okay, but—“

“No buts. Don’t think you know what this is. I’m kidnapping you. You’re a liability.”

Liability. That word rang through my head. It scared me. With numb fingers, I put on the helmet. I couldn’t manage the chin strap so Finn eventually, scowling, had to help me with it. He got on the bike and I hesitated for a second.

“Get on,” he ordered again, the barrel of the gun pointed at me. Biting back tears, I got on and wrapped my arms around his waist.

What had changed? How was he like this? Why? These questions ricocheted through my head as we tore down the highway, away from the convent, away from my old life. The lights of the highway seemed to laugh at me along the way, seeming to mock my childish, girlish dreams. Did I really think this biker, this criminal—did I really think he was in love with me? Did I really think he would be coming back for me, to save me from my ghoulish life like some sort of knight in shining armor? No, no, no. He was nothing of the sort. He was a cold-blooded criminal and nothing but. How had I been so blind? Even now, I hugged him close and the wind whipping by my face tore the tears off my cheeks.

We stopped at a motel along the side of the highway. Finn handcuffed me to the bike and went to get us a room. He came back five minutes later, key in hand. He uncuffed me and jabbed the gun into my back, forcing me to march into the room.

Once we were inside and the door was locked, he stuck the gun into the waist of his pants.

“Finn…” I whimpered. “What did I do?”

“You saw me. You’re a liability,” he answered coldly, not looking at me. His handsome face was troubled, tormented.

“What do you mean?”

“The Damned are on the run. There are only a handful of us left. We’re going into hiding and anyone who’s seen us, who knows we’re still around, who could direct the Huns to us—“ I was guessing the Huns were another motorcycle club. “—needs to be eliminated.”

“No, Finn, please…” I whimpered, tears coming to my eyes. “You can’t. What about the time we spent together?”

“You should have come with me then,” he growled, not looking at me.

Of course. That was it. That was why he was upset—because I didn’t come with him. I knew I should have and I regretted it.