Page 21 of Falling for the Biker
My face grows warm, a flush that has nothing to do with the steam. My gaze trails lower, over the ridges of his stomach, and finally, inevitably, falls to his cock.
It’s the one part of him that isn’t marked by ink. It’s thick and heavy, flushed a deep red at the tip. My eyes follow the prominent veins that trail down its length, and I find myself swallowing thickly.
Under the guise of washing his stomach, I let my touch drift lower, my fingers skimming through the coarse, dark hair at its base. The reaction is instantaneous. His entire body goes rigid, a statue of tense muscle. A sharp, ragged hiss escapes through his clenched teeth the moment my trembling fingers dare to wrap around him.
The heat of him is a shock. The skin is like silk over pure, unyielding steel.
“I’ve never seen one before,” I whisper, the confession torn from me by sheer wonder. Driven by a curiosity that overrides all shyness, I stroke him, a slow, tentative exploration. I discover he’s just as sensitive as I am when his hips give an involuntary jerk, a harsh groan rumbling in his chest.
Emboldened, I do it again, firmer this time, learning the weight of him, the way my hand barely fits. I watch, mesmerized, as a bead of moisture pearls at the tip. This is him.
That’s when his patience shatters.
His hand snaps out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist like a steel cuff, stopping my movement completely. His eyes, when they meet mine, are pure black fire, his control hanging by a thread.
Without a word, he reaches behind me and shuts off the water. The sudden silence is deafening, broken only by our ragged breathing and the drip of water on tile.
Then he moves. In one swift, effortless motion, he bends and scoops me up into his arms, not caring that we’re both dripping wet, that water is pooling around his feet. He carries me out of the bathroom and through his home, his grip unbreakable.
He doesn’t lay me down gently. He drops me onto the bed, the impact a soft bounce on the mattress. I look up at him, breathless, and see it. The final crack in his restraint. Every muscle in his body is twitching, coiled with a tension so immense it vibrates in the air between us.
“I’m trying to be a good man here. After what you’ve been through—” His brows pinch together, and he looks angry again.
“Diesel.” Biting my lip, I close my eyes and curl against his blankets. Ireallylike the way they feel against my bare skin. When I part my thighs and let my hand slide between them, I hear him make a choking sound. “Right now, this is what I want.”
Not as a way of distracting myself. I want him. All of him.
Opening my eyes, my toes curl as I part my lips so he can see the damage he’s done. Without looking, I already know I’m slick. My fingers are already glistening.
I get a front row seat watching his strength crumble there on the spot.
A guttural sound rips from his throat. “Fuck being good, then.”
In one fluid motion, he’s on me, his large body caging me in. He doesn’t kiss my mouth. He captures my wrists, pinning them gently but firmly above my head with one hand. His eyes burn with a feverish intensity as they rake down my body, devouring the sight of me laid bare for him.
“Look at you,” he growls, his voice thick with filth and wonder. “So fucking pretty and open for me. All this wetness, just from my hands on you?”
When I nod, he smiles. I know I’ve got it bad when just a curve is enough to make my walls flutter.
“Keep those right there.” Demanding as always, he releases my wrists and finally touches me again.
It’s easy to see which parts he’s been aching to explore.
His hand cups my breast, his thumb sweeping over the peak in a circle that has me gasping. He lowers his head, and his mouth is hot and wet against my skin. He places a series of open-mouthed kisses that trail fire, each one lower than the last, until his lips close around one taut nipple.
Then his teeth catch it. A sharp, unexpected sting that makes me jolt and cry out. But before the protest can even form, his tongue is there, soothing the ache with long, languid strokes. The sting melts into a deep, throbbing pleasure that radiates straight to my core, turning me on so much more for the hint of pain.
He does the same with the other breast, too. Humming in satisfaction as I wither beneath him.
All my firsts, I’m handing to him on a platter. Now, he’s showing me sensations I’ve never known to be possible.
He licks his way down the sensitive skin of my stomach, a teasing, torturous descent. When he reaches the thatch of curlsbelow, he pauses, his hot breath fanning over me. He hooks his hands under my thighs, spreading me open for his gaze.
Murmuring another curse, his voice is thick with awe. “Look at you. So pink and pretty for me.” He glances up, his eyes burning. “You’re really a virgin?”
All I can do is nod again, my breath hitching.
That wolfish grin returns, wider this time, full of pure satisfaction. “Good.” The word is a deep, growling sound of approval. “Then I’ll be the only one who knows what you taste like.”
