Raw and Dirty(68)

“Later, Pint-Size. Later. For now, this. Just this.”

I sit up and slide my cut off my shoulders, tossing it to the floor before I yank off my shirt and unzip Lyric's jacket. Underneath … My breath catches sharply and my dick throbs with excitement.

“Is this for me?” I ask as I run my hands down the sides of the purple corset and pause at the zipper to Lyric's pants. “And am I going to find naughty knickers under all this leather?”

“It's not for you,” she says, but her cheeks are flushed with excitement as she looks up at me. “Well, maybe these were, but just a little bit. You beat up my brother.”

“Could've done a whole lot worse,” I say, refusing to let the subject come between us. Right now, hell would have to freeze over for me to stop—and even then it'd be a stretch. “That fucking phone call,” I say, unzipping her pants and finding a matching pair of panties and a bloody garter belt. “If that shit hadn't been enough to drive me crazy, then this would be.” I need this girl, I think as I peel her riding pants down her legs, tear off her boots and then finish the job, until she's lying there in nothing but purple lingerie. “I need to fuck you right now, love. If I don't, I'm going to lose my goddamn mind.”

I lean over her, kissing the side of her neck and working my way down to the corset, running my tongue along the top of it, tasting the pale creamy swells of her breasts. When my fingers seek out her pussy, it's soaked straight through and ready for me, clamping down hard on my hand as I work two and then three in and out.

“I told him I was your old lady,” she gasps as my thumb grazes over the front of her lacy panties. Well now. That gives me pause and my mouth curves into a grin.

“Why? Because you want to be?” I ask, noticing that Lyric's put her panties on over her garter belt and thigh highs. Like she knew someone would want to be able to take them off and leave everything else on. Fuck.

“I don't know,” she whispers as I slide my fingers out and grab her knickers, trailing them down her legs and over her feet before tossing them to the floor. “I really don't know.”

“Guess we'll figure that out, too,” I say as I unzip my pants and lower my body on top of hers. “Tomorrow. We'll figure all this crap out tomorrow.” When I thrust inside of her, she spreads her legs wide and welcomes my cock inside, fingers clutching at my hair, tongue teasing mine as I kiss her and take her hard against the mattress.

Her hot, wet body soothes my demons away and brings a moment of peace to the fucking roller coaster ride that makes up my life. Shagging beautiful girls has always been a pastime of mine, something to make me feel better, let go a little. But it's never been like this. Guess I can see why some of the boys are so into their old ladies, why they never even glance in the direction of the leather lovers. They don't even fucking see 'em. Don't fucking need them.

“Lyric,” I groan, grinding against her as she moans and writhes beneath me, her body milking mine so hard that I can barely move my cock in and out. I decide to roll us over and let her ride me, putting my hands on her waist and encouraging her hips to roll, her palms splayed out on my chest as I squeeze her soft flesh and let her grind her clit against me.

“Royal,” she groans as I bite my lip and suck in a harsh breath. “Royal.” A sharp little gasp. “Royal.”

“That's it, Pint-Size. Let it go. I want to watch you come.” Her hips move harder, dark hair hanging around her face, lips parted with pleasure. When she comes, hands still on my chest, back arching, she looks like a fucking queen.

My queen.

Royalty.





There's a pint of ice cream in front of my face when I open my eyes, lashes fluttering as I take in the container and the big tattooed hand that's holding it.

“Mornin' Pint-Size,” Royal says, tossing a spoon onto the pillow with his other hand. “Thought you might enjoy a little taste of your namesake.”

I groan and sit up, my body sore and my face throbbing like … well, I like I got elbowed in the nose. I reach up and touch it, hissing at the pain, but I don't think it's broken. It'd hurt a hell of a lot worse, wouldn't it? My chest feels tight though, the line where the seatbelt caught me an aching mess.

“What … what the hell happened last night?” I groan, even though I was a part of all of it. Being followed, crashing the truck, Royal's hand wrenching the door open, arching above him as I rode his cock.

Oh God.

I groan again and rub at my face as I sit up, glancing at the two wolves lying patiently at the end of the bed, eyeing the ice cream container before looking back at my face with pathetically hopeful expressions.