As we continued to kiss, Nic's other hand reached out to massage my breast, his thumb sliding inside my dress to tease my nipple. His touch wasn't gentle, and I didn't want it to be. He rubbed my areola with surprising pressure, causing it to instantly harden. I moaned again, louder, and he pulled his mouth away from mine long enough to bite the side of my neck hard enough for me to gasp. As he did, he reached behind me, his fingers finding the zipper of my dress and pulling it down with aching slowness. He ran his smooth palm over my naked back, then lowered it to stroke the dimpled cleft just above my buttocks.
As he cradled my lower back with one hand, he placed his other flat against my chest. I felt him pushing me gently, and realized that he'd maneuvered us over to the mattress in the corner. I relaxed my entire body and gave in, allowing him to lower me to the bed until I dropped the final few inches, wriggling out of my dress to reveal my breasts and my soaked panties.
Nic lowered himself over me, cradling my face almost tenderly now with one hand as he kissed my lips again. With the fingertips of his other hand, he traced gentle lines across my breasts and my belly, and my entire body vibrated with delight. I felt my back arch reflexively beneath me. I could smell my own gentle musk, and wondered if he could too.
As if in reply, Nic took his mouth away from mine and moved it down my neck, planting deep and sultry kisses on my neck, my breasts, my stomach. I raised my hands to his head, stroking his hair and running my fingers through it. I felt his fingers hook the sides of my panties and slide them down my legs, leaving my willing pussy exposed and eager for him.
He tossed the panties to the side of the bed and leaned in, tenderly kissing and tonguing my labia. I bit my lip to hold down the cry at the back of my throat waiting to be released. He licked me from back to front, over and over, slowly, methodically, my juices coating his soft lips. Suddenly, he moved forward and gently took my clit between his teeth, flicking it with his talented tongue. I opened my mouth wide, allowing the cry of delight to finally escape as his fingers plunged inside of me. I came immediately.
Unable to control myself any longer, I lifted his head and lunged forward, locking lips with him again. He seemed surprised for a moment, then gave in, allowing me to taste my own salty sweetness clinging to his lips. I kept kissing him as my hands groped for his large belt buckle—an etched-metal War Reaper symbol—and undid the clasp. I took the tongue of the thick metal zipper between my fingers and slid it down slowly, letting him feel each clasp part, one by one, until it was completely undone. He reached up to pull his jeans down, but I gently waved his hands away, eager to undress him, to serve him, to demonstrate that I was his.
I climbed on top of him and slid his jeans and underwear down his legs, revealing his erect cock. I reached up to wrap my hand around the shaft, stroking it for a moment before sliding my body up between his parted legs. I opened my mouth and lowered it over him, feeling every inch of his pulsing warmth slide up my tongue until it touched the back of my throat. It was his turn to issue a low moan, and I could feel the happiness bloom inside my chest, the satisfaction of being able to please him. I moved my head up and down, my jaw opening as wide as it possibly could in order to accommodate his impressive length. As I sucked on him, my fingertips stroked his scrotum tenderly, and I could feel the skin draw tight and harden with goosebumps.
Before he could finish, I withdrew my mouth and raised myself to my knees, straddling him. He raised his hands, and I took them in my own quickly, lowering them to the bed again and holding them there. I knew that he could easily overpower me, but instead, he let me pin him down.
I removed my hands from his, quickly reaching into my purse and fumbling for the string of condoms I'd always carried with me since college in case of an unexpected night at Jared's place. For a terrible moment, I was sure that I wouldn't find them—that somehow, they had fallen out while I'd been transferring my things from one purse to another. However, my fingers felt the creased square wrappers a moment later, and I pulled one out, deftly tearing open the corner and pulling the latex disc from within.
For a moment, I thought he'd protest—No need for that, darlin', I don't use 'em—but instead, he nodded again encouragingly. I slid the condom over the tip of his cock, still slick with my saliva, and gingerly rolled it down to the bottom of his shaft.
I put my hands on his shoulders and lowered my hips, mounting him, allowing him to slide past my moist and trembling lips and penetrate me to my core. I could feel him fill every part of me, and I arched my neck, releasing a high and wavering growl like an animal in heat. He moaned in response, his hips thrusting up beneath mine with a steady and practiced rhythm, as though he'd been waiting for me his whole life.
I knew I'd been waiting for him. I'd been waiting to feel so filled up and blissful. I felt like I'd spent my entire life in the shade and had finally been allowed to feel the sun.
We rocked together steadily, our soft sounds of passion rising into a deafening crescendo as we climaxed together. God, we fit together so perfectly. It was like we were made for each other. How had I ever been satisfied with someone like Jared? How much time had I wasted with him, without knowing that someone like this was waiting for me and could show me such passion?
Reluctantly, I slid myself off of him, tugging the now-filled condom from his cock and tossing it aside. I was completely unprepared for him when he rose up to embrace me, both of us sitting cross-legged and facing each other, leaning forward to kiss. His hands settled over my shoulders, pushing them, forcing me down onto my back. Could he possibly be ready again so soon?
As if in answer, Nic slid one hand over my chest to keep me in place, using the other to reach into my purse for another condom. He tore it open and slid it on himself this time, all with one hand like some kind of sleight-of-hand magician.
Once it was in place, he took his hand away from my chest and wrapped it around my ankle, pulling my legs apart roughly. He plunged inside of me with shocking ferocity, and I let out a tight scream of pleasure. He pushed harder, deeper, unrelenting, insistent. I felt myself stretch tightly over his shaft, a single note of pain intertwined with a melody of pleasure I had never felt before. It seemed like he wanted to tear me in half, and I wanted him to. I wanted him to rip me apart with his unbridled lust like no one ever had before.
He was leaning forward, bending me at an acute angle with my ankles on his shoulders so that he could delve even further inside of me. Even with the condom on, I could feel the surge of his orgasm, and met it with my own, drenching him, leaving my passion glistening all over his skin like an exquisite oil.
Nic took me again that night, and again, and again, until the condoms had all been spent and so had our strength. We wrapped ourselves around each other and drifted off as the first rays of cold gray winter sunlight peeked through the window.
Chapter Seven
Growler
When I got to the corner where Nic lived, I was already shivering, my boots and socks soaked through from the half-dozen icy puddles I'd had to step in on the way. God forbid I'd been allowed to ride my bike over there, oh no. God forbid I did anything to let the kid and his hot new squeeze know I was following them. We couldn't have that, could we? No, we didn't want to ruin the moment, now did we?
Jesus Christ in a fuckin' canoe, it's not like I tagged along to peep at them or join in. I'm just here to watch the little dude's back—that's all. So what's the goddamn problem? Why the need for all this cloak-and-dagger bullshit?!
Well, the problem was Bard, for starters. I loved the guy, and what's more, I respected him. He'd long since earned it. Hell, he'd pulled my ass out of more fires than I'd cared to remember. He wasn't perfect, but he'd always done his best by the Reapers as their leader, and he'd proven himself worthy of the role without question. He'd never backed down from a fight, but he'd never started one without a good reason, either.
I'd been on the road for going on three decades, and I'd known about a zillion bikers from a billion different MCs. But no matter what their patches said or what symbols they had on their cuts, they were mostly a simple and predictable bunch. Guys with hard words, hard hands, and hard heads. Like me, when you came right down to it. What you saw was what you got, so when you were running with these dudes, what they saw from you had better be one badass motherfucker, or you were just begging to be stomped and left in a ditch next to the highway.
But Bard was different, and once you'd seen him in action, it was hard not to be in awe of him. One minute, all you saw was the kind of prissy dickhead who worked in an insurance office or something, and would probably fire you for coming in five minutes late. The next minute, you saw a lethal fucking whirlwind of kicks and punches, the kind of shit that would drop a professional fighter in the first round. There was no fear in that man, no quit—but no macho crap, either, no posturing. I'd never known anyone like him before, and somewhere inside of me, I knew I probably never would again.
And Bard had a soft spot for Nic. It was easy to see why. For all the shit I gave the kid, he was a battle-tested Reaper through and through. Not only that, but there was a little glimmer in his eyes that showed the kind of intelligence Bard had, even though he didn't use the same fancy-pants words Bard did or go around quoting shit you'd never even heard of.