by Ella Goode
My mouth opens and out comes a long, keening sob. His big body shakes with something stronger than desire above me. I feel it course through his frame and then enter mine. With his one arm holding me up, his other hand reaches around to stroke and pet my clit. He pumps two fingers inside me and it’s too much.
I start panting, sobbing. “I can’t take it,” I cry.
“You can,” he orders roughly. “Because I’ll catch you when you fall.”
His words, the love in his voice, it really is too much but the unrelenting thrusting of his cock in my ass, his fingers inside my sex and I can’t do anything but give up. I collapse against the bed and allow the torrent of emotion and sensation to wash over me. To drown me. I open my mouth and he’s there. His body is covering me, his big hand in my hair twisting my head around and his tongue is plunging into me. I’m filled with him. There’s no part of me he’s not touching. And in that moment, at the height of pleasure I surrender.
The orgasm breaks me into tiny pieces that float with the air particles. There’s a roar in my head as if the heavens are rending into two and then there’s nothing but peace. At some point, Judge climbs off and rolls me over. He covers me with a sheet and disappears into the bathroom. When he returns it is with a warm washcloth and he proceeds to wash me everywhere. It’s the tenderest gesture I think I’ve ever received and tears prick my eyes.
He kisses me softly. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing,” I whimper. “I’m overwhelmed is all.”
“Me too.” He gives me a tired, but satisfied smile. He draws his thumb across my forehead. “I’ve never slept with anyone in my house since Wrecker’s mom died. I brought Chelsea’s mother home so that I could take care of Chels but I never had her there. Couldn’t do it. She wasn’t a real wife. The bed that I have is one that I bought about five years ago. Every other woman I’ve ever had was at her house or the club. I want to take you home and make love to you in my lonely bed. Will you let me do that?”
I bite my lip to keep the tears from gushing forth. “Yes, I’d like that.”
Judge helps me dress in a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. I slide my feet into a pair of tennis shoes—all clothes from the extra suitcase Chelsea had packed for me. I still feel full even though the plug is out but I can’t wait for us to try again. He picks up the cut he’d placed on the dresser and holds it out to me. “You going to be my old lady, Pippa?”
It’s not really a question though. I nod and he slips the heavy leather vest over my shoulders. Taking my hand, he leads me out. Out of the bedroom, down into the main living space. We don’t pause to greet anyone. Instead, Judge announces to those who are within hearing distance. “I’m taking my old lady home tonight. Don’t bother calling for a couple of days. We’ll be busy.”
And with that we leave, me riding on the back of his bike, enjoying the wind whipping through my hair as I press tight to the president of the Death Lords. I may have daddy issues but I finally made the right choice when it came to a man.
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Also by Ella Goode
If you like menage, check out: Three of Us (Twins #1) and Belong Together (Twins #2)
Other Death Lords books:
His Bold Heart
Her Secret Pleasure
Captive Ride
She’s All Mine
Make Me Yours
The Last Christmas Present: Billionaire Holiday Romance (a Daddy story)
The Wolf’s Mail Order Bride
Beauty in Summer
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Copyright © 2015 by Ella Goode
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