Page 43 of Driven by Desire

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Six weeks later

Riley was in heaven.

She sat on the beach of her sprawling estate home waiting for her super sexy badass boyfriend to come home. Yeah, she was claiming his shit. She figured if he could just up and claim her then she was claiming his house, his pool, his cars (except for the dented BMW), the golf course (who knew he had a golf course!), a few hotels, a yacht, a nightclub and various other businesses she had yet to lay claim to. She didn't want the casinos though. She told him in graphic detail her thoughts on gambling. He thought she was being oversensitive because of Cilia. She thought he was being an asshole for not getting rid of his casinos. Their fight ended in bed, as usual.

She even gave her new yacht away. Of course, she hadn’t exactly told Soloman yet. It was payment to Roman for services rendered. But Soloman had told her his stuff was her stuff, so as far as she was concerned she could give away whatever she wanted. And Roman loved the yacht.

She dug her freshly painted black toenails into the cooling sand and sighed in contentment while contemplating what car she was going to buy next with all of Soloman’s copious money. She enjoyed the rush of boosting cars, but Soloman preferred she go the old-fashioned ‘kept woman’ route and just shop for them. She squinted at something moving along the beach toward the gentle crash of the ocean waves.

“Scuttles, is that you, man?” she asked, wondering if their brief but emotional affair was about to enter a second chapter. She stood up and moved toward a crab that was clearly trying to get into the water and away from the crazy woman that was chasing after it. “It's me, your one time saviour. Dude, we can talk about old times. Cilia’s kitchen, the neighbour dog, barbecue tongs! You remember? Hey, come back!”

She watched as it scuttled its way beneath the waves as quick as its crabby little legs could carry it, disappearing into the dark blue of the Pacific Ocean. She stood with her hands on the the waist of her short black sundress.

“Wow, those little bastards are fast,” she breathed, squinting her eyes against the glare of the sunset. “I don't think that was Scuttles anyway. That guy would’ve said hey and come up to the house for a beer. We had a thing.”

She squealed in alarm as she was seized from behind and lifted off her feet. Soloman’s masculine scent surrounded her and she relaxed into his arms, tipping her head back into his solid chest. He set her on her feet in the sand and nuzzled the skin of her neck.

“You talking to yourself, gorgeous?” he said warmly, his deep voice washing over her in a way nothing else could.

“Nope, was talking to my sea creature friends,” she said with a grin.

She turned in his arms and gave a little jump. She wanted up in his embrace. He lifted her easily and helped her wrap her long, curvy legs around his waist. He groaned as her hot panty-clad pussy came into contact with his stomach. He slid one broad hand down her back and then up under her dress until he was holding her up by the ass. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her tight against his body, caging her against him. He slid his long fingers into her panties and down the bare crack of her ass. She moaned and arched against him.

He could feel her pussy soaking his stomach through his shirt. Fuck, she was so goddamned wet for him already. It amazed him how quick she responded to him every time he got his hands on her. He took hold of the strap of her dress and pulled it down her arm, baring her breast. He moaned when he saw she wasn't wearing a bra. Fuck, he was starting to think half the clothes she wore should be outlawed. That was going to be his next project. Get Riley to dress more conservatively.

“Tell me you didn't wear this dress to work, woman,” he demanded, dipping his head to nip along her throat until he reached the supple flesh of her breast before sinking his teeth in. She moaned and squirmed against him.

“God, I don’t want to talk about work right now, Soloman!” she yelled, arching in his arms in an attempt to force him to her nipple.

“Answer me, or I’ll tear it off and you’ll never get to wear it again,” he growled, carrying her off the beach toward the house. The setting sun lit the windows of their house in an array of beautiful colours.

“Only for you!” she gasped. “I wore jeans at the shop.”

“Good,” he grunted.

His intent had been their bedroom, or at least a couch somewhere in the house. He didn’t make it. With Riley squirming in his arms, rubbing her hot hot little pussy all over his crotch and stomach, he couldn’t wait that long. Knowing security would be watching made the lawn unfuckable. He swung his head around through a haze of gut-wrenching desire and then stalked toward the garage. It was closer than the house.

Riley immediately lifted her head from where she’d been moaning and licking his neck in abandon. “Stay the fuck away from the garage,” she moaned, nipping his ear. “You dent another one of my cars and I’ll castrate you.”

He ignored her order and stabbed the code in, releasing the side garage door. She began struggling in his arms when she saw his intent. “No, Soloman, you’ll wreck one of my beauties!”

He took a fistful of her hair and brought her face up to his for a heated kiss, spearing his tongue into her mouth. She took a moment away from her protest to return his kiss with enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around his neck and rocking her hips against his flat stomach. He reached behind his neck and gently untwined her arms. She moaned in protest as he lifted her away from his body.

Her sexy moan turned to a screech of horror when she saw exactly where he intended to set her down. “Oh no you fucking don’t! We’ll knock it over! I want to keep this one forever! It purrs like a kitten. This is a very selfish move, Soloman. Can’t we just go fuck over there and finish off the stupid BMW?” she yelled and flailed her limbs.

He ignored her tirade, bent her over the Ducati, flipped up her skirt and spanked her ass until she quit yelling. He helped her stand straight after he’d reddened her ass and stripped the dress over her head. She raised her arms and reached for her panties, shimmying them down her thighs. She groaned in dismay when he picked her up, opened her legs and forced her to straddle the bike. Her groan turned to a strangled, throaty moan as her pussy touched the bare leather seat. She gasped and tilted back on her ass.

“You look so good on my bike, gorgeous,” Soloman growled, his voice deep and sexy and he unbuttoned his shirt, his fingers lingering over his stomach, touching the wet spot she had left. He groaned, his dick hardening to an unbearable degree. Finally, he peeled the shirt off and let it drop.

“My bike,” she purred, petting the bike possessively.

She kept her eyes glued to his bare chest but leaned forward to hug the bike, protecting it from what she perceived as inevitable destruction. His lips compressed into an evil grin. Fuck, he wanted to take a picture of her so he could look at her doing that whenever he wanted. Her beautiful full breasts were smashed against the black metal curve of the fuel tank. Her feet were up on the pedals and her ass pressed tightly against the seat.

He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. Reaching into his underwear, he pulled out his cock and stroked it a few times. Riley abandoned her protective attitude and sat up straighter to watch him, licking her lips in anticipation.

“Have you been using the toys I bought you?” he asked huskily, his gaze flickering to her ass.

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