“Oh…Oh…Wow…” Bree gasps, bearing down on my leg and taking what she needs. I let my fingers tease her nipple, with what my tongue is doing to her other one. I can tell the way her breathing picks up that she’s close to coming. She’s riding my leg harder and harder. Any second she’s going to come…for me…for the first time…
I’ll own this. I’ll be the first one to give her body pleasure. It’s mine. No one else will ever have this from her.
“Come for me Bree. Don’t be afraid baby. Give in to what your body wants. If you’re a good girl, I’ll give you even more later,” I whisper in her ear. Even as I say it, I know it’s wrong. I also know that I’m going to turn this good girl into a very bad girl, one who knows exactly how to give me what I want. One who will crave exactly what I can give her.
“I’m trying, Jax,” she gasps my name when I bite into her nipple. Her body jerks and trembles, I could almost smile at how responsive she is. I kiss up the valley of her neck, finding her ear again, letting my teeth tease along the lobe.
“If you come for me, sweetheart, I’ll let you watch me come later,” I promise.
“Yes,” she whispers, her whole body trembling.
“Would you like that, sweet Bree? Watching me stroke my cock for you and only you, until I can’t hold back any longer, and I shoot cum all over you?”
Her chest heaves as she pants, “Oh God.”
“You want it don’t you Bree? You want covered in my cum. It’s all yours, sweetness. All you have to do is come for me. Come for me, and I’ll show you all the naughty things I want to do to that sweet young body of yours.” I move my hand between her uncharted pussy and my thigh, cupping her crotch, teasing my thumb along the seam of her pants.
“Oh, God. Jax, I’m coming! I’m coming!” she cries out and the joy and sense of victory I have is something I have never felt before. This was her first orgasm, and it’s mine, but I’m a big enough bastard to admit I want all of her fucking orgasms. Every last fucking one.
Chapter Twelve
Bree
I feel amazing—exhausted and yet strangely unsatisfied all at the same time. I think I might slide to the ground because my feet feel like rubber, but Jax takes me in his arms holding me close. His hands rake softly through my hair. His lips are pressed against my temple, giving me small kisses. It feels like praise. It feels like he cares. Maybe I’m fooling myself, but I don’t care.
“Let’s get you fixed up, sweetness,” he whispers, pressing me close to his side, and I have to force my legs to walk so I can follow his lead to the truck door. Helping me inside, he’s taking such care with me that I feel like I’m fragile and precious to him.
“Shit,” he growls quietly, and I look up at him confused. He’s buttoning my shirt, at least the buttons that are left.
“What?”
“I made a mess of your top, Bree. There’s no way you can wear this back without everyone knowing that you just...”
“Got off?” I ask boldly. My blush is intense, but inside I am so happy I could scream it to the world.
“Yeah,” he says. He looks at me and though there is still kindness and caring, I see something else. Something I don’t like. Regret.
“Don’t do that, Jax,” I say, stroking my finger down his arm.
He pulls away slowly. “Do what?”
“Regret what we just did. Please?” There’s so much more I want to say. Don’t push me away. Like me. Let me know this will happen again. That more will happen between us. Give me more. Give me more of you...
I don’t say any of that. I’m afraid. All I can ask is that he doesn’t take what we shared away from me. That he doesn’t ruin it.
“Bree, we’re beside the road, almost to Skull’s house. What if one of the brothers had seen us? What if your grandfather had?”
“They didn’t,” I remind him.
“Only because we were damn lucky. This can’t happen again.”
I should’ve known the moment wouldn’t last.
“Why not?”
“I’m too fucking old for you, for one thing. I’m forty years old. You’re eighteen. Hell, I could have kids out there older than you.”
“Do you?”
“Not that I know of,” he barks, raking his hand down the side of his face.
“Then what’s the problem? I don’t understand. I like you. I like what we just did together. I want more,” I tell him, hoping he will think I’m just talking about the sex.
“Sweetness, you deserve more than an old, worn-out, broken biker. Someone like that kid who was hanging around you this morning.”