Page 34 of Hard as Stone
“On the bike, Poppy.”
With a guiding hand her on her hips, I help her climb up front so she’s sat facing me. Her dress rides up as she settles, revealing a tempting expanse of creamy flesh. I drink in the sight of her, all smooth skin and temptation, dark hair tousled and wild from the ride.
“Hi,” she whispers, a hint of shyness in her voice as she looks up at me through her lashes.
“Hi yourself,” I murmur, my hands sliding up her thighs to rest on her hips.
Poppy’s breath hitches as I pull her closer until she’s practically in my lap. Her hands come up to rest on my chest, her fingers toying with the buttons of my shirt.
“So,” she starts, voice husky. “About that dessert you promised...”
I grin, leaning in until my lips are a breath away from hers.
“Dessert’s right here, sweetheart,” I growl before capturing her lips with mine.
The kiss is hungry, desperate, all the pent-up tension from dinner finally breaking free. Poppy moans into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair as she presses closer. I slide one handup her back to cradle her head, deepening the kiss as my other hand grips her hip, pulling her flush against me.
She rocks her body,grinds,the friction making us both groan. My hands roam her body, tracing every dip and rise that I’ve been dying to touch all night.
“Axel...”
“Stop me,” I murmur as I trail kisses down her neck. “Stop me before I can’t stop myself.”
Her fingers tangle in my hair. “Don’t you dare.”
I freeze at her words, a deep growl rumbling in my chest as I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. “Trouble, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“I do,” she whispers, her eyes searching my face as her fingers rake through my hair, then down my beard. “And I want it, anyway.” My hands tighten on her hips, every ounce of self-control I possess fraying at the edges. “I want you, Axel.” The way she looks at me—like I’m some kind of wild thrill she can’t wait to dive into—has my resolve crumbling.
With a growl, I capture her lips again, pouring every ounce of pent-up desire into the kiss. Poppy responds just as desperately, her body melting against mine as her lips part, inviting me deeper. I take the invitation greedily, my tongue sweeping into her mouth to tangle with hers as my hand slides under her dress, tracing the inside of her thighs, fingers teasing the edge of her panties. She gasps.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” I murmur, moving my fingertips just enough to feel how wet she is. “Been wanting to touch you like this since that first day with the stop sign.”
She laughs, breathless. “That long, huh?”
“Longer.” I capture her lips again, swallowing her moan as my fingers find her apex. “Dreamed about you before I even met you.” The warm cotton of her panties is soaked through. “Dreamed about you every night since.Waking up hard and aching, wanting you so bad I can barely think straight.”
Poppy whimpers, her hips rocking against me. “Show me,” she breathes. “Show me how much you want me.”
I groan, the need in her voice nearly undoing me. My fingers push her panties aside, finally touching her slick heat. I groan. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so wet for me.”
Poppy gasps, her head falling back as I stroke her. “Please, Axel. More...”
“Giving it to you, trouble,” I growl, circling her slick and swollen clit with my thumb as I slide a finger inside her. “Gonna give you everything you need. Gonna make you feel so good.”
Her hips rock, fucking my hand as I add a second finger, stretching her walls.
Poppy moans, her fingers digging into my shoulders as I work her higher. “More,” she gasps. “Please, Axel...”
“Lie back.”
Poppy hesitates for just a moment before complying, leaning back until she’s sprawled across the bike’s fuel tank. I take a moment to just drink in the sight of her like this—laid out before me like an offering, her dress hiked up around her hips, her legs spread in invitation.
“Axel...” Her voice is breathless, needy. “What are you...”
“Shhh.” I slide my hands up her thighs, pushing her dress higher. “Just let me take care of you, sweetheart.”
I hook my fingers in her panties, dragging them slowly down her legs. Poppy lifts her hips to help, and the trust in that simple gesture makes my chest ache. Once her panties are off, I tuck them into my pocket. A memento of this moment, of her surrender.
