Page 45 of Blue

“How am I supposed to concentrate on anything else when you exist?” he asked before nibbling on her ear.

She shuddered at the heat of his words and the pressure of his teeth. Her arousal coiled tighter in her core. Blue bit her bottom lip, trying to remember why this was such a bad idea.

“You can’t go to another shop. You have to be at the clubhouse. You’re mine.” He rumbled into her ear before he dipped two fingers deep into her sex.

She gasped and threw her head back, nearly headbutting him. Whimpering, she needed more.

“Fuck, Mooky,” she mumbled.

His fingers, his body, his presence, his words. Everything he did drove all rational thoughts from her mind. He occupied every one of her senses. The taste of his kiss lingered on her lips. His heavy breathing matched the drumming of her heart. The smell of his beard balm wrapped around her. And his hands stroked her sex closer to an explosion.

It was a wonder she could breathe.

Suddenly, Mooky pulled his fingers from her pussy.

Looking over her shoulder, barely able to focus on anything, she watched as he dipped his glistening digits into his mouth. Her core fluttered at the sight of him sucking her wetness.

He undid his jeans with his free hand, and his pants dropped, causing his cock to bounce at attention.

She ogled it like a thirsty woman in a drought. If she were in a different state of mind, she might have found the way she stared at his dick funny. Blue truly lived up to her role within the club. Only a club whore would gawk at a biker cock and drool.

Then again, this wasn’t just any biker dick. This was Mooky.

She knew what he could do with it. He’d taken her to new heights with that thing. She wanted it, needed it, craved it more than the air in her lungs.

After a quick slap to her ass sent a jolt rippling through her, Mooky tugged her pants further down to her ankles. The poor lighting made it hard to see, but she knew the sound of a condom wrapper when it tore.

This was about to go down. This was her last chance to stop it.

Not one cell in her body wanted to.

She needed him more than she needed the blood in her veins.

The cool air of the night breezed across her fiery skin before he took hold of her and yanked her toward him again.

“There’s no turning back, Blue. You’re mine. I don’t care what else happens. This is it,” he said before he plunged his cock deep into her.

The force of his thrust pushed her against the tree, and her breath left her lungs. While being pinned between him and the tree, Blue holding onto the trunk was merely for show. He pumped into her so hard the bark scratched her chest, and it felt delicious.

“Fuck,” she gritted out as he drilled into her with a possessive, punishing desperation.

“I am,” he grunted before leaning down over her.

The position angled his cock perfectly as he slammed in and out of her. The swollen tip of his dick ground against her spot. Each thrust shoved her closer to the edge and toward her orgasm.

She was no saint. Blue had slept with plenty of men and even a few bikers. But none of them were familiar with her or her body and how to get her off the way Mooky did. He knew when to reach around her hips and pinch her clit to get her to buck back against him.

He was well-versed in how to massage her sex, to tease her. When he slowed the pace, only to quicken it again, it drove her insane. The shallow, quick bursts taunted her. His long, deep drags had her begging for more.

Mooky understood how to turn off her brain so that the only thought on her mind was chasing the orgasm he could give her.

The chaos of her life flittered away. Everything clicked as though this was the right thing to do, the way the world was supposed to be. Stars, fates, hell universes aligned. This was excellence. They were perfectly imperfect. Her heart sang with glee as her pussy pulsed around his cock, and her body hummed from the tune he taught it to play.

He was what she needed in her life.

She lost all sense of time and space as he continued to fuck her in the wild of the night. Was it cold? Did a car go past? It didn’t matter. They were the only things in the world. They were the only ones that meant anything.

She gasped when he rubbed her clit again. She was so close.

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