Would the pleasure be worth it? If the way he was looking at me was any indication, like he wanted to eat me alive, then I had a feeling it one thousand percent would be.
“I need to taste you first.” His lips crashed to mine, not gentle—frantic. Like he’d been starved for this moment.
God, I think I had been too.
My hands wound around his neck, my lips opening as his tongue pushed past and tangled with mine. With every heartbeat, passion flowed from me to him, his hands eating up my skin, his breath fanning across my face. He’d been right earlier when he’d said I was turned on. I was practically a hot mess in his presence. Sitting on the front of his bike with his lips attached to mine now was the most recklessly hedonistic thing I’d ever done, and I was quickly becoming addicted.
His lips never left mine when he caged me in his arms, then kick-started the bike to leave. It roared underneath me, causing all the aroused blood in my body to charge straight for my already wet pussy. I was a mess, but I couldn't be bothered to care when his body was still pressed against mine, his tongue fucking me slow and deep as the motorcycle engine purred beneath us.
He tore his lips away for one moment before slowly guiding the bike out of the parking spot, turning it, and then shooting out of the parking lot, hovering at the end of the driveway leading into our quiet town.
“Which way, precious?” My brain fried as it registered what I was doing. Letting this man take me home tonight. A stranger, a roguish, sexy, motorcycle-riding man who’d charmed the panties right off of me. But I still didn’t care.
“Right. Go left at the first stop sign, and my house is a few doors down on the left,” I said in a quick breath, before my logical, safety-minded self kicked in and politely declined the offer. Told him I was a good girl who didn’t do these things and went home alone.
And I was a good girl, too much of the time. So much of the time, it got exhausting, and a spike of adrenaline raced through my bloodstream, begging me to do something reckless, something just mine. Something in the name of pure pleasure.
“I can’t wait to get you underneath me.” He drove one-handed, his other palm coming to rest on my thigh, thumb inching higher and higher, kneading at the flesh until I thought I might come in a scream right that very second.
“I can hardly think straight with your hands on my skin.”
“That’s what I had in mind.” He nipped at my ear, leaning as he turned the bike left, and I registered we were almost home. To my place. To my bed.
Anticipation built inside me, my legs already quivering as the pad of his thumb inched nearer to my panties. I sucked in a breath of the cool night air, disbelieving any of this was happening right now.
And then his thumb breached my panties.
The rough scrape of his fingertip against my hot flesh was like a shot of cold water dousing my body. I clamped my teeth on my lip, thighs shaking as his thumb stroked back and forth, my pussy growing wetter with every pass. He added a second finger, working it at my entrance before sliding in smoothly, my body welcoming him with more silky hot arousal.
“I’m so fucking hard, feeling your beautiful little pussy wrapped around my finger. You are so wet, so responsive. I know you love the feel of my fingers in your pussy. You're soaked. I want to taste that pussy, Sky, I want to get drunk on that sweet juice.” His words edged at my ear. “You want me inside you. Owning this sweet cunt.”
Like fireworks exploding in my chest cavity, waves of release pulsed their way through every muscle I possessed. My fingers clutched at his firm biceps, shades of ink swirling across the hard muscle, as my teeth clenched down and I rode the orgasm with the help of his frantically moving hand between my legs.
“Oh my God, I’ve never—” I sucked in shallow breaths of air. “I can’t believe—”
His grin crooked to one side as he pulled his hand from between my legs, sucking his thumb into his mouth and licking the nectar clean. “Your pussy tastes sweet, Skylar.”
His words embarrassed me and turned me on in equal measure. He must have known, because his grin ticked up just as his bike began to slow down. “Which house is yours?”
Drowsy and drunk on pleasure, I hardly recognized my neighborhood, veiled in shadows.
“Uh, 331.” I spat the number, unable to even think about providing direction at this moment.
A slow chuckle rumbled through his chest, sending shock waves through me. I’d never been so turned on, so sated and needy for him all at the same time.
“Welcome home, precious.” His throaty voice curled around my body as he turned into my driveway. The engine flicked off, and he smiled.