Page 97 of Throttle

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

He grips the steering wheel with white knuckles. “The only thing I want to do is get you home.”

Out my window, the tress blur by.

“This didn’t ruin our date, I promise. It’s just another day.”

Another day, another motorcycle club adventure. Most people would have fled by now. Not me. I accepted the risks and dangers a while ago.

“I’ll deal with the situation first thing tomorrow, but tonight… you’re mine.”

The ache between my thighs would agree. I’ve always been his.

Throttle quickly opens our home's door. He tugs me inside, forcefully shuts it, and presses me against the wooden surface. I'm enclosed by his arms. My only option is to gaze up at him. He’s perfect and it’s utterly painful.

“I need to kiss you. Feel you. Taste you.” He stops to hover only inches away from my mouth. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, but I’m so close to saying fuck that.”

Our breaths become wild, and his scent saturates the faint space between us.

“I don’t want you to be a gentleman, Throttle. If you don’t touch me… for the love of God, I’m going to lose my mind.”

With a smirk, he gently cups my face. Then he seals the remaining space to satisfy our hungry appetites. This connection of power is invading us. His touch and kiss feel like he’s been missing me for years.

His tongue explores mine, increasing in speed and consuming my mouth.

Gripping his jacket, I slide it off his muscular shoulders, and he aids in taking it off. As I quickly work the buttons on his dress shirt, I watch him complete the remaining ones. I can't resist running my tongue across my lips as I admire his displayed tattoos and sculpted body. The involuntary desire takes hold and I reach up, stroking his chest and then down to his abs. I can’t get enough. I will never get enough of him.

"If you keep touching me like that, I won't be able to control myself.” He breathes against my ear.

“I don’t want you to,” I demand, my lips swollen from his kiss.

The heat of passion flickers in his eyes. “Tequila… I want to do this right. We don’t need to do anything tonight.”

I want him. “There's no friends with benefits between us anymore. I want this. Throttle, just take me already. I'm done waiting.”

He purrs with his fingers tracing every bit of me and intervenes as I attempt to reach behind my back and find the zipper on my dress. “Hang on.” He lifts me effortlessly and I wrap my legs around him, my hands fisting in his soft, tousled hair.

Leading us to the kitchen counter, he lowers me down while maintaining his hold on my waist. With his eyes fixed on mine, he runs his calloused hands up my heated thighs, reaching the hem of my dress.

I’m panting. He’s panting.

I'm so desperate that I'm close to begging and urging him to get a move on.

“Touch me,” I whisper.

With a predatory look, he continues to hold eye contact while slipping a hand beneath the fabric and moving upward until he reaches my aroused area. “My rose, you're not wearing any underwear. If I had known, I would have done more for you at that restaurant.”

I'm grateful that the panty lines were visible in this.

I sink my teeth into my lip to suppress the urge to scream. He hasn’t even done anything to me yet and I’m coming undone.

“Forgive me?” I ask in desperation.

“You’re forgiven, but I’m thinking a punishment is in order.”

My heart and body ache for it, yearning to be satisfied.

He opens my thighs and brushes his thumb against my clit. With my palms pressing against the cool counter, I arch my spine.

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