Page 22 of Falling for the Biker
He lowers his head without another word, and his tongue licks a long, slow stripe from my entrance to my clit.
My hips jerk like they’ve got a mind of their own. The sensation is intense, consuming every thought.
“Taste like heaven,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath a hot caress. Then he’s relentless. He spreads me open with his thumbs, holding me there for his feast.
His tongue flicks and circles my clit with a precision that steals my breath, before plunging deep inside me, hinting at what is to come with his tongue in a rhythm that leaves me whimpering.
“Gonna make you come on my tongue, Ruby,” he grunts, the words vibrating through my very core. “Gonna lick up every last drop. You understand? This sweet little cunt is mine now.”
His words are filthy, a stark contrast to the worship of his mouth. It’s overwhelming, too much, and not enough. The coil of pleasure tightens unbearably fast, so much that my head starts spinning.
Now I’m wondering if he purposely worked me up in the shower. Got me right to the edge so when finally got me where he really wanted, he could push me right off. I’m there. Rather, I feel like I’m already falling.
“I can’t… Diesel—” I gasp, my hips bucking against his face.
“That’s it,” he commands, sucking my clit into his mouth. “Let go for me.”
The command, the sensation, the sheer possession in his voice is what breaks me. A cry tears from my lips as I come apart, my body convulsing under his, waves of pure, blinding pleasure crashing through me. He doesn’t stop, drawing out every last shudder, until I’m boneless and trembling beneath him.
He’s not done. Just when I’m the most sensitive, he starts pushing his fingers inside of me.
“You’re so soft and wet.” Kissing my thigh, he hooks his fingers and pushes against a part of me that makes my hands shake against their grip. “I won’t hurt you. Need to make sure your pussy can take every inch I have to give.”
He’s got a lot to offer. I had my fingers around him, I know better. When I nod, my hips jerk when he touches my clit.
Can’t he see how sensitive I am?
“I want it.” Panting the words, I don’t want him to think I can’t handle it. I can. I will.
“You’ll have it, then. All of me, Ruby. From here on out.” The words leave him, and I have to bite my lip hard to contain my emotions.
Once again, I’m reminded that this man loves me.
“I’m yours.” Inhaling sharply when he adds a third finger, my body arches. “I trust you.”
The words are everything he needs to hear to move. Already loving the little sounds he makes when he’s satisfied, the next hum that leaves him makes me squirm.
“I’m ready, please.” Reduced to begging, my nails dig into the fabric above my head. “I can handle a little pain. I’m strong.”
The little hum of satisfaction he makes vibrates through me, but the next one is deeper, and it makes me squirm with need. He replaces his fingers with the blunt, insistent pressure of hiscock, a presence so much more substantial it steals the air from my lungs.
“Look at me,” he commands, his voice too smooth for his own good. “Just a little pinch for a second. Then it’s done.”
I force my eyes to his, drowning in the heat of his gaze. Nodding my head, I put my trust in him that I’ll survive this.
He pushes forward on one solid thrust, his cock an invasion. There’s a sharp, searing pinch, a barrier giving way that makes me gasp. Instead of going slow, he treats it like ripping off a band-aid. First, a sharp pain, then it’s gone.
Unlike a band-aid, this ache lasts more than a couple of seconds.
He stills completely, his entire body trembling with the effort, letting me adjust to the feeling of being so utterly filled.
“Breathe, Ruby. Just breathe through it for me,” he coaxes, his thumb stroking my hip. The pain recedes like a tide, replaced by a feeling of incredible fullness, a rightness that eclipses everything.
When the tension leaves my body, he begins to move again with a low groan. The pain is replaced by a tingle that grows bigger by the thrust.
“Fuck. So tight. Taking me so damn good.” The words escape him, and I watch the way his brows knit together.
His filthy praise is so strange. I don’t know why, but I want him to keep the compliments coming.
