Page 4 of Ink's Devil

I hadn’t needed the words to know this was just once, but something told me that it would be worth it. As long as I kept telling myself I didn’t need a repeat, the experience would be something to remember.

So far this encounter with the tattoo-less biker so inappropriately called Ink is already nothing like any sex I’ve ever had before. My prior experiences have involved flirting, the polite telegraphing that both parties are interested, then a kiss which becomes increasingly sensual, with hands gradually coming into play, mutually commencing and taking liberties with a hesitant exploration of each other’s bodies.

Then, if it progresses and moves into the bedroom, a polite and slow removal of clothes, with glances and sighs of appreciation as the usually hidden areas of skin are exposed.

To be told to undress, and then not even be able to offer a tantalising striptease—he’d turned his back—had put me on edge.

His commands continue. Do this, do that. So far out of my comfort zone, I’m surprised to discover I’m enjoying it.

Ink’s by far the tallest man I’ve ever been with, every other partner has been shorter. While I’ve had a couple of relationships that have worked for a while, most times my height has been, or has quickly become a factor. I’ve even been at the mercy of men who simply wanted to parade me around like a trophy they’ve won, or then there are those who expected me to be the dominant partner and were disappointed to find I was no dominatrix.

I view relationships like Mel has with Pyro as being far out of my reach. In my experience, men just aren’t protective of me, rather seeing me in the role of protector.

Ink, well, he’s a million miles away from any other man I’ve ever had in my bed.

If I were asked, I’d say my preference is to be an equal player, to give tit for tat. When I’m touched, to touch back. Ink’s not giving me a chance to do that. He’s keeping me off kilter, but any complaint dies on my lips as I discover I don’t hate what he’s doing.

He isn’t polite, he’s taking what he wants, and I’m fast discovering that’s exactly how I want it too.

He’d wasted no time homing in on my nipples. Instead of gradually increasing the pressure to what I enjoy, exploring to find out what I might like, he applied it immediately. My breasts have always been sensitive, they might be small, but someone playing with them always turns me on. Ink’s roughness was just what I needed. It just wasn’t what I’d expected.

He expects me to take what he gives without being an active participant myself, it’s something I’d never have said I’d enjoy. But, oh boy, when he starts licking methere, his pressure is just right, and he seems to know where everything is and exactly how to find it.Jeez.He’s found my G-spot now, when other men I’d been with would have been unable to find it with Siri’s help and a map.

His mouth is on my clit, his fingers inside me. With my tits still throbbing from the pinches he’d administered, I’m not going to last long.

How many women must he have pleasured to know exactly what to do?

A lot. But I knew what I was getting in to when I asked for sex with a biker. My friend Mel doesn’t come into work every day with a huge satisfied smile on her face for no reason. Now, I suspect I’m finding out why.

My brain switches off as my muscles start clenching, little ripples across my stomach untiloh, yeah, there.I scream. I can’t help it.

As I try to get my breath back, I feel cooler air on my skin as he lifts his body away. Cracking open my eyes, I watch as he takes the couple of steps he requires to get to his pants and delves into a pocket. Then he comes back carrying a handful of condoms, they flutter down on to the bed. I try to count them. Six? Seven?Really?

He sees my eyes widen and grins. “Promised you wouldn’t be able to walk.”

Disobeying him, I lower my hand and wave toward the packs on the bed. “Prove it.”

“That’s four. Five unless you put your hand back.”

My brow furrows as I’ve no idea what he’s talking about, but as he’s ceased all movement and is just waiting, I do what he says, and once again have my hands clasped behind my head. Then I watch entranced as he tugs at his dick before swiftly opening the first packet, and covering himself with latex.

Jeez. This man can move fast. Next thing I know, he’s between my thighs, my ass slightly raised and my legs up over his shoulders. Then… Oh, he’s pushing in.

I was teasing him about his size. He’s by far the biggest man I’ve been with, a cock in proportion to his even taller-than-me height and muscular body. It’s thick and long and there’s a burn as he pushes inside, even though he’d prepared me, and I am dripping wet.

I gasp, he stills, then pushes again.

“Relax,” he instructs, then leans forward so I feel the chuckling vibration of his voice. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

I bite back a scoff.Easy for him to say.

But despite his comment, he’s as gentle as a man his size can be and takes his time slowly working himself in. When I reopen my eyes, I see him gazing at me intently and know he’s keeping track of all my expressions.

At last he’s fully seated inside me, and he pauses, giving me a moment to adjust.

I can’t resist. “Are you in?”

He barks a startled laugh. “Oh, pretty Beth, that’s six.”

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