Page 132 of Devil Mine

She gasps. “Is that why you–”

“Yes,” I say, reaching a possessive hand back to cup to the top of her exposed thigh. “I want you to come while you hold onto me for dear life.”

I slam her visor shut, then mine, cutting off the words on the tip of her tongue. She tentatively grabs me, one hand coming around each side of my ribs. I grab her wrists and yank them forward until she falls against my back.

“Keep your arms wrapped around my waist,” I order and she does as I ask, long nails scraping against my abdomen.

I rev the engine loudly and then we’re off. The wind whips around us, brisk and sharp, but Tess’s body stays pressed against mine. The bike roars vigorously between our legs and as we weave between cars and down open roads, I’m reminded of the power this machine makes me feel.

Tess doesn’t know that mics in our helmets connect us. Mine is muted to avoid distracting her so all I focus on are the sounds she’s making. And they’re unbelievable. She pants and gasps and mewls and mutters cursed call outs for God as the juddering of the bike pushes and shakes the plug deeper inside her. She presses her hips forward, trying to add similar friction to her clit. When it makes contact with the leather, her fingers claw at my stomach and she shatters with a loud cry.

We come to a slow stop at a massive triple intersection and I pop my visor open, looking back at her with dark, gleaming eyes. “Good girl,” I praise.

She opens her own visor, the top of her cheeks bright red.

“You heard that?”

I press a button on my phone that unmutes me and I speak into the mic. “Every.Single. Moan.”

Her eyes widen comically when my voice echoes in her helmet. She slaps my upper arm and I laugh boisterously.

“Get my seat dirty,preciosa. I want you to come on everything I own.”

“That’s a lot of orgasms,” she points out.

I tip her chin under her helmet. “We’ve got time.”

She playfully smacks my visor closed and I turn back around, waiting for the light to turn green. That’s when I feel her hand drop from my stomach down to cup my cock through my trousers. I hiss in a breath, tensing against her chest.

“Careful,” I warn silkily.

“You’re not the only one who can have fun.”

I grip her wrist and bring her hand back up to my abdomen. “I just promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. If you stroke my cock while I drive, I’ll crash us within the next fifteen seconds.”

Tess shakes my hold off and squeezes my dick one more time before resting her hand on my thigh.

“I’ll deal with you when we get there,” I growl.

“I look forward to it.”

A Hummer pulls up in the lane next to ours.

Tess rakes her nails gleefully down my stomach, making me groan. She’s teasing me and driving me to the very edge, but short of fucking her in front of an audience, which isn’t fucking happening, there’s nothing I can do. My right hand reaches up to finger the fabric of her dress, tugging it down. It’s so short that it rides almost completely up her leg when she’s seated, so I keep my hand splayed protectively on her thigh.

Awareness filters down my spine when the Hummer’s driver window rolls down. An elbow comes out to rest on the car door, followed by the face of some twenty year old frat boy turning to stare lewdly at Tess. His friends in the passenger and back seats egg him on encouragingly, wide grins splitting their faces.

“Hey, baby,” the driver drawls out in a thick American accent, a suggestive smile pulling at his lips. “Why don’t you come over here and wrap your legs around a real man for a change?”

“Yeah, between the three of us we could put those holes to good use,” his friend chirps.

Tess’s arms tighten around me. My blackout visor stays down as I turn my head slowly towards the driver. His smile wipes off in a decidedly less cheerful manner than it appeared when he finds himself looking cross eyed into the barrel of my gun. My arm is outstretched, bridging the gap between the two lanes until the pistol is less than a foot from his face. His friend slumps bonelessly down into his seat, disappearing from view.

“Repeat that.”

He shakes his head. “I’m good.”

Arctic frost sweeps into my tone, my finger flipping the safety off with a loud, chilling click.

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