Page 36 of Pit Stop

The bike revs, the breeze cooling my overheated skin as we ride off.

We don’t catch up with his friends right away, his bike taking a different route until we’re driving down a lonely road, no one in sight.

Dirt driveways appear right and left, hidden behind the trees, and I wonder where he’s taking me. But I honestly don’t care. He smells delicious and my hands can’t stop roaming across his chest. They may have slipped under his shirt and are now stroking the hard planes of his abdomen.

With each brush against him, our scents mingle until I’m heady from it.

I might also brush against his hard cock, squeezing it, rubbing it, making his pheromones spill from him, out of control. I love how I can bring this out of him.

Hate that he can do the same to me.

I have zero control.

But I want it. I really do. My hands only behave once my ears take in the distant rumbling of motorcycles. I know we’re close to his friends, and I know I can’t hang out with a bunch of alphas while slick with need.

That’s not the kind of image I want to give off.

I’m educated, smart. I don’t preen and beg for cock.

I mean, I do. I’m an omega, but still. I don’t need to show everyone how bad it gets.

Glancing over Maverick’s shoulder, I watch as the motorcycles pull into the dirt parking lot of a large pub and gas station, and Maverick slows down, parking farther away from them.

“You smell like sex,” he says as he turns off the motorcycle and we step off. He pulls his helmet from his head and his sweaty hair is matted to his forehead. He looks fucking good like this. He looks recently fucked.

“You do too,” I say and let my gaze fall to his engorged cock. It’s pressing out from his jeans, and I twine my fingers together to keep myself from reaching out for it.

“That’s because you’re touching me…like that.” He sounds annoyed, angry, and I feel myself getting all riled up.

“You didn’t stop me,” I counter, and he grits his teeth.

“Get inside. I’m going to clean you up.”

I huff, feeling chastised like a child, and stomp toward the public restrooms. It’s a one-person bathroom, and he follows me inside. I don’t even have a chance to tell him that I can do it myself.

The click of the lock being turned has me freezing and then he’s behind me, his hands grabbing on to my hips.

I let out a groan as he pulls me into him, his fingers undoing my fly, tugging the zipper down far too slowly.

“Thought you were going to clean me up,” I groan, and he buries his face in my neck.

“I am.”

He falls to his knees and pulls my pants down, my jeans and boxers pooling around my ankles. And then he’s dragging his nose up my crack, his tongue following, lapping up my slick as he goes.

A gasp falls from my lips and I fall forward, my hands on the sink, my ass out as he spreads me wide and licks me.

He’s growling the entire time, hungry for it, and I’m just a half-sobbing mess, my cock angry and red, wanting to come, but unable to. I can’t until he pushes that tongue inside of me. Not until then.

He seems to read my mind because a moment later, his tongue sinks into me and I cry out, my dick pulsing out thick ropes of cum. Not that it stops him. He keeps going, eating me out until my dick is hard once more and I’m reaching down to stroke it frantically.

Maverick still doesn’t let up, just keeps pushing his tongue inside of me until I come again. It’s only then that he stands up and steps away from me.

I can’t fucking move, my entire body still trembling from the epic ass-eating he gave me. But with a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I turn my gaze over my shoulder and see Maverick watching me hungrily, his face still wet from my slick, his hair in disarray, his eyes hooded.

“You going to fuck me?” I ask, and he swallows, his gaze slamming into mine.

“I promised Forest I wouldn’t. I promised myself I’d let you fucking live, Skye, but shit, it’s hard.”

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