Sniper | Fallen Angels MC #3

Chapter 27

Smut ahead! ;)

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Beatrice's hands were fast.

They had my briefs pushed down before we landed on the bed. Trying to match her speed, I pushed down both her pants and underwear before tossing them aside.

"Damn," I saw back on my knees and stared at the squirming woman below me. Her breasts moved with every breath...every squirm...and I palmed myself staring at her.

"You're driving me," Beatrice took a deep breath, "fucking insane! Hurry up!"

"I'm going to take my time with you," I laughed in response. She hooked her legs around the back of my thighs and yanked me forward. I collapsed on top of her, my entire weight on her, and she did nothing but laugh.

"If you don't put that thing inside me right now, I will lock you out and take care of myself," she threatened. I was, honestly, doing nothing but staring at her breasts until she smacked the back of my head lightly.

"Sorry. Yes ma'am," I grinned. I kissed her as my body shifted so I could slip inside of her. She left go of my lips with a soft gasp and a scrunch of her nose. "You okay?"

"Perfect," Her eyes opened. Beatrice's pupils were blown wide as she smiled to assure me. As I began to move faster, she gripped my hair with one hand and my arm with another. I moved, then moved...then moved again, and she squealed.

"I want to take you on a date," I muttered in between thrusts. Beatrice turned her head to face me and looked at me incredulously.

"Are you joking?"

I stopped moving. "No. Why would you think that?"

"Seriously? We're busy! Get to it!" She scowled and pointed between us. I gave her a bashful smile and felt my face heat up. This woman! I started moving again. Her squeals picked up, and unfortunately, I couldn't last much longer.

Beatrice had only had one orgasm, but I could do better.

"Lift your legs," I muttered to her as I pulled out. She turned at me with a questioning look, but followed my directions. Her legs, spread open and up, showed off glistening pink flesh. I grinned and held one of her ankles.

This time? I left her legs shaking. Well, it was more of a tensing and untensing, but she had given me this sleepy grin afterwards...

"So," she whispered as we lied next to each other. "About that date."

"I have the perfect place to take you," I muttered. The sheets rustled, and she pulled away to face me.

"I'm excited," she smiled at me. A few seconds later, she was asleep on my left arm. I rested my head on top of hers and sighed. I hoped this feeling never went away.

"Milady," I grinned as I held a hand out to Beatrice.

Her father had brought all of her clothes to the clubhouse. Every single piece. It felt great knowing she was practically moving in. Queenie had B's vest all ready to go for our next date. All things considered, I wanted us to have a date: one date before I asked her to be my old lady.

She'd spent all day with the other old ladies and luckily, Queenie was her size. Her breasts bounced as she floated down the stairs, and the slits in her dress almost gave too much away but seeing her legs like that...she looked unbelievably sexy.

"You look gorgeous," I murmured before kissing her cheek. She smiled, red tinging her cheeks, and squeezed my hand.

"Thank you," she said back. I helped her into my sleek, black car that I usually kept in the garage, and rushed around to the other side of the car. I took a deep breath when I entered and smiled at Beatrice. The smell of this car was my favorite smell, and I had my favorite woman sitting beside me. Nothing could get better than this.

Well, maybe that vest on her shoulders—

"Where are we headed?" Beatrice asked. Her hands were fidgeting in her lap, but her smile was bright. I grabbed one of her hands and held it tight.

"You know what?" I muttered to myself. I moved my hand back and started the car, just to zip around the driveway and park again in front of Pres' house. "Give me one second."

"What?"

"One second. I promise," I grabbed her hand, squeezed it again, and rushed out of the car. I knocked quickly and wiped my suddenly sweaty hands on my pants. Pres answered the door with a small towel hanging over his cut with what looked like vomit on it.

"Sniper? Aren't you supposed to be on a date?" Pres' eyes drifted behind me and squinted. "You left her in the damn car?"

"I'm here for the vest. I can't wait any longer. She's just...perfect. The one. Please?" I asked. He rolled his eyes and told me to stay put while he got it. I had to wipe my hands on my pants again twice before he reappeared, handed me a white box, and told me to get my ass back in the car.

"What's that?" Beatrice asked as I opened the car door. I slid in, softly placed the box in the backseat, and buckled again.

"A secret," I grinned. "Sorry about that. Ready to go?" She nodded, and after I'd put the car in drive, I grabbed her hand and held it all the way to our destination. Beatrice's eyebrows furrowed when I pulled into a parking space. The place was packed but I had called ahead.

"A gallery?" She unbuckled and turned to look at me. I nodded and watched a man in a suit come out and wait by the car.

"You'll see." I slid out of the car and jogged around to her side of the car. I helped her out and watched her smooth legs glide through the dress. She placed her arm in the crook of mine and I stepped forward to greet the man.

"Beatrice, this is the curator of this gallery, Mr. Miller," I introduced. She shyly shook his hand and tucked it back into mine.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss. The showcase is right this way," he motioned behind him and began to lead the way. Her heels clicked against the sidewalk and almost masked her gasp as we entered the art gallery. Mr. Miller excused himself and left us to look at the paintings.

"Ever since I met you," I began, "colors have changed. The meanings of colors have changed. And it's all because of you."

"What are you talking about?" Beatrice was slowly turning to look at all of the paintings in the room.

"The color yellow has become so important to me, and I felt like nothing could show that more than this," I muttered. Every single painting around us used yellow as it's main color. When I had first come across it online, I knew it was perfect. Beatrice was still turning around.

"This is amazing," she said. As she finally turned to face me, I was shocked to see tears on her cheeks.

"You're my yellow. You're the woman I want to wake up next to every morning. You're my sunshine," I smiled at her as she came closer. She quickly pulled me into a kiss, but I pulled away. There was one more part she had to look at. In one of the corners, surrounded by people, was a portrait of my favorite person.

Mr. Odison had taken the picture a year ago, he said. Beatrice was mid-laugh, clutching her stomach, and was wearing a yellow dress in a field of sunflowers. I had sent it to a local artist and spoke with Mr. Miller many times to coordinate this.

"Sniper," she sniffled. I leaned forward to wrap her in my arms from behind and to rest my head against hers.

"Noah."

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Thanks for reading!