Page 92 of The Ecstasy of Sin
The farther we ride from the club, and the city, the darker it gets. The night sky is clear, the moon tucked just below the horizon, leaving the stars above to glitter like scattered diamonds across the void. Even through my helmet visor, I can see them, littering the sky like tiny gems.
I don’t know where we’re going, or if Dominic is taking the long way home, but the farther we go, the quieter my mind becomes.
The relentless vibration of the bike works like a sedative, easing my rattled nerves. Reminding me of what it feels like to be in the safety of Dominic’s presence.
My fingertips roam over Dominic’s bare torso, his jacket only zipped half way up. I ignore the dried blood caked to his skin, and instead trace the ridges of his abdomen. Each muscle is carved, solid and warm beneath my touch. My hands drift lower, a slow and teasing sweep.
Until my hand brushes against his cock, thick and hard as stone, tenting the fabric of his pants. I can’t imagine that’s comfortable, not with how big he is.
My palm flattens, and I stroke him through the dense material, feeling the way his entire body tenses at my touch.
He only lasts a minute before, without a word, he turns down a dirt road and pulls into a small, empty parking lot with only six spaces.
A weathered sign indicates the start of a trail beside a wide-open field, the tall grass shimmering silver in the starlight.
When we stop, he kicks the foot stand and kills the engine. As he pulls off his helmet, I follow suit. Our helmets drop to the ground in unison, just as his hands find my waist.
A startled gasp escapes me as he drags me around his body and pins me over the front of his bike, my thighs bracketing his waist. My back meets the warm metal, and the moment I’m trapped between the machine and his body, his mouth is on mine.
He kisses me like a man starved of oxygen, like my mouth is the only thing keeping him alive. His hand fists in my hair, dragging my head back as his tongue sweeps against mine in long, hungry strokes.
I whimper into his mouth, my fingers scrambling to grip the lapels of his leather jacket. I’m powerless beneath him, and that realization has my pussy aching with the need to be filled.
Before I know what’s happening, he’s bunching the hem of my dress in his fists, yanking it up until the fabric pools around my hips.
His cock, rigid and restrained behind thick fabric, presses against my pussy as he grinds forward. I moan despite the layers between us, my hips rolling instinctively, pleading for more friction.
He breaks the kiss to grip my jaw, tilting my face away from him. I cry out as his mouth descends on my throat, his teeth sinking into the delicate skin. The pain is sharp, and my body bucks at the sensation.
“Dominic,” I whimper, breathless as his tongue soothes the tender place he left his mark.
“I need to be inside of you,” he growls, his voice barely human.
“I need you inside of me, too.”
Reaching down between us, his hands grip the thin material covering my pussy. He tears with his fingers, ripping into the fabric until the two halves come apart.
Just when I think he’s going to fuck me right here on the bike, he slides off the seat and pulls me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist and cling to him as he walks us around the bike and lowers me to my feet.
His breathing is ragged, and his pupils are blown wide, as he strips off his leather jacket and tosses it to the ground next to the front wheel. Even under the cover of night, I can see the dark patches of blood riddling his powerful body.
“Run, little lamb. Run as fast and as far as you can.”
I stare at him, wide-eyed and trembling, as he nods toward the trail. The inferno of my arousal rises to a fever-pitch as I watch him. His neck rolls, shoulders shifting, as he stretches out his tense muscles.
He wants to chase me, and I want to run.
“You could’ve already been buried deep inside of me right there on your bike, you know,” I tease, a smirk tugging at my lipsas I take one slow step toward the trail. I reach down and slip my heels off my feet, one by one, leaving them in the parking lot.
He runs a hand through his hair, but it falls back over across his forehead. His entire body is tense, his muscles trembling from the effort it’s taking to keep him standing where he is. He almost looks pained, like his need to fuck me is destroying him.
“Fuck,” he groans, his face tense with the raw need that has him in a vice grip. “Make me earn it, baby. Run, so I can take what’s mine in the way we both fucking need.”
I take a shaky step back, my heart thundering in my chest as heat floods between my thighs. The way he’s looking at me—like he’s moments from snapping and fucking me into the earth—has my pulse racing and my breath catching in my throat.
Every instinct inside me screams to run. Not to escape, but to provoke the monster who promised he’d ruin me in the sweetest way.
And I want to be ruined.
