Read Online Oliver (Inked Menace MC 2) by Ryanne Hawk - Free Book Online
Authors: Ryanne Hawk
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lowered her face to slip his dick into her mouth.
His hands clenched her hair, his nails digging into her scalp as she worked him hard and fast, just like he’d done to her. She hallowed her cheeks and sucked, then took him down her throat, thwarting the gag reflex by breathing through her nose and loosening her jaw. As she bobbed up and down, his incoherent grunts and moans of pleasure were music to her ears.
“I’m gonna come, baby. So close,” he groaned, and slammed his head back against the seat, his hips moving of their own accord, the veins of his forearms popping with exertion.
Amara maneuvered her hand to cup his balls, where she stroked and fondled in time with her sucking. Oliver stilled, then a torrent of curses and prayers spilled from his lips as he came in jets flowing down her throat in warm spurts. Amara swallowed every last drop, milking him dry and leaving him wet and sated.
She pulled up, and Oliver grabbed her face and kissed her, the violent passion gone, replaced by tenderness. “That was amazing. Best blow job ever.”
A smile hit Amara’s face as his words made her beam with happiness. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” she said as he put his cock away and zipped his jeans, then stretched his legs out in front of him.
She rested her head on his shoulder for a time, then caught her sister’s disgruntled look across the way. Amara nudged Oliver and they both stuck their tongues out at her at the same time, causing her to shake her head and groan in disgust.
Oliver and Amara giggled like teenagers who’d just been caught by their parents and weren’t sure whether to laugh or bolt.
9 Chapter Nine
Penn Station was a labyrinth of working class, peddlers, homeless, and unique individuals. Nobody looked twice at them as they walked through, passing food courts, restaurants, and shops.
“I’d kill for some bloody tea,” Amara noted as they passed another chain coffee house.
“Well, you’ll get an opportunity for bloodshed soon, darlin’,” Hammer said from her left hand side as he breezed up and grabbed Maura by the waist, lifted her high into the air and planted a huge kiss right on her lips, making her squeal like a child at a carnival.
“We can stop and get you something to drink, dear,” Oliver said and stopped walking to wave toward the brightly lit store with a line of customers waiting for their caffeine or sugar fix.
Amara sighed and said, “Tea doesn’t always mean tea.”
Oliver raised a brow at her haughty attitude.
“What? It doesn’t. Tea means supper, or dinner, usually. I'm fucking starving.”
Maura and Hammer halted and glanced at them with their collective ears to the ground, listening to their conversation.
“You two, hungry?”
They shrugged in unison. “We could eat.”
“This one’s,” Oliver made air quotes and thumbed in her direction, “bloody starving.” He hunched over and exaggerated his tongue when he said it.
Amara quietly chuckled and shook her head at him as she breezed past his warm body. “That was a bad impression of me, mate.” On the way by she leaned in close to his neck and inhaled, smirking when he shivered.
They grabbed sandwiches to go, and each downed a large caffeinated beverage. Amara had iced coffee, much to Oliver’s bemusement.
“We drink coffee as much as we do tea, love.”
“Learn something new everyday. So it’s not like on television then?”
“Not so much. We’re not all prim and proper, speaking in the Queen’s English. There’re different regions and dialects depending on where you’re from. There is a range of accents and slang.”
“Cool. I’d love to visit one day. Sounds intriguing.”
Their future wasn’t set in any kind of stone, so she let the comment pass and changed the subject. “The lab isn’t far from here, what’s our game plan?”
A few benches waited ahead, and after some quick maneuvering through the throngs of people, they sat huddled together, just another group
His hands clenched her hair, his nails digging into her scalp as she worked him hard and fast, just like he’d done to her. She hallowed her cheeks and sucked, then took him down her throat, thwarting the gag reflex by breathing through her nose and loosening her jaw. As she bobbed up and down, his incoherent grunts and moans of pleasure were music to her ears.
“I’m gonna come, baby. So close,” he groaned, and slammed his head back against the seat, his hips moving of their own accord, the veins of his forearms popping with exertion.
Amara maneuvered her hand to cup his balls, where she stroked and fondled in time with her sucking. Oliver stilled, then a torrent of curses and prayers spilled from his lips as he came in jets flowing down her throat in warm spurts. Amara swallowed every last drop, milking him dry and leaving him wet and sated.
She pulled up, and Oliver grabbed her face and kissed her, the violent passion gone, replaced by tenderness. “That was amazing. Best blow job ever.”
A smile hit Amara’s face as his words made her beam with happiness. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” she said as he put his cock away and zipped his jeans, then stretched his legs out in front of him.
She rested her head on his shoulder for a time, then caught her sister’s disgruntled look across the way. Amara nudged Oliver and they both stuck their tongues out at her at the same time, causing her to shake her head and groan in disgust.
Oliver and Amara giggled like teenagers who’d just been caught by their parents and weren’t sure whether to laugh or bolt.
9 Chapter Nine
Penn Station was a labyrinth of working class, peddlers, homeless, and unique individuals. Nobody looked twice at them as they walked through, passing food courts, restaurants, and shops.
“I’d kill for some bloody tea,” Amara noted as they passed another chain coffee house.
“Well, you’ll get an opportunity for bloodshed soon, darlin’,” Hammer said from her left hand side as he breezed up and grabbed Maura by the waist, lifted her high into the air and planted a huge kiss right on her lips, making her squeal like a child at a carnival.
“We can stop and get you something to drink, dear,” Oliver said and stopped walking to wave toward the brightly lit store with a line of customers waiting for their caffeine or sugar fix.
Amara sighed and said, “Tea doesn’t always mean tea.”
Oliver raised a brow at her haughty attitude.
“What? It doesn’t. Tea means supper, or dinner, usually. I'm fucking starving.”
Maura and Hammer halted and glanced at them with their collective ears to the ground, listening to their conversation.
“You two, hungry?”
They shrugged in unison. “We could eat.”
“This one’s,” Oliver made air quotes and thumbed in her direction, “bloody starving.” He hunched over and exaggerated his tongue when he said it.
Amara quietly chuckled and shook her head at him as she breezed past his warm body. “That was a bad impression of me, mate.” On the way by she leaned in close to his neck and inhaled, smirking when he shivered.
They grabbed sandwiches to go, and each downed a large caffeinated beverage. Amara had iced coffee, much to Oliver’s bemusement.
“We drink coffee as much as we do tea, love.”
“Learn something new everyday. So it’s not like on television then?”
“Not so much. We’re not all prim and proper, speaking in the Queen’s English. There’re different regions and dialects depending on where you’re from. There is a range of accents and slang.”
“Cool. I’d love to visit one day. Sounds intriguing.”
Their future wasn’t set in any kind of stone, so she let the comment pass and changed the subject. “The lab isn’t far from here, what’s our game plan?”
A few benches waited ahead, and after some quick maneuvering through the throngs of people, they sat huddled together, just another group
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