"Oh, really? All the hot ones are getting locked down. It's hard out here for a lady who wants some satisfying non-commitment." I looked around, finding a tall, strong, dark-skinned man who was wearing a cut like Sugar's. "What about him?"
"Oh him? He can't get it up," he said, not even able to keep a straight face through the obvious lie.
"Well, that is a damn shame," I agreed, shooting Sugar a smirk. "So, you're saying you are my only option?"
"The only one who'd surpass your expectations," he said, moving in a step closer, his breath warm on my neck.
There was no denying the tightening between my legs at that. And it was right then that I knew he wasn't blowing smoke.
Some hot guys could talk a good talk, but you'd get them in bed, and they sucked. They weren't good at sex because they never had to be. They were good-looking enough for girls to ooh and ahh just so they could have them on their arms in public.
Sugar, it was clear, was not one of those guys.
"You seem so sure of yourself."
"Take me for a ride, baby," he suggested, lips nearly touching my earlobe in a way that made my belly swirl. "See for yourself."
"Tempting," I said, bringing my drink up to take a long sip. It was very, very tempting.
"But not tempting enough," he mused, head dipping down, pressing his lips into my neck in a way that made my stomach drop, something I hadn't felt in longer than I could even remember.
"Not yet." It was a lie, plain and simple.
"Alright," he agreed, hand pressing into my lower back, then sliding lower, just barely grazing over my ass before it was gone completely. By the time I could even turn my head to look at him, he was gone.
I didn't see him again.
Not after another two drinks that finally got me floating again.
Not as I tried to pay my tab, getting turned down as I always did, so throwing a good fifty-buck tip at Brodie who informed me that there was already a cab waiting for me.
"Want an escort out?"
"I think I will make it the five feet from the door to the cab, you sexy beast you."
"Killing me, angel. Killing me."
"Oh, you'll survive," I told him waving over my shoulder as I made my way to the door, only mildly disappointed at not finding someone suitable to take home.
"Giving up before closing?" a voice called as I stepped outside. "Rookie."
I turned, finding Sugar leaning against the wall to the building, his leg cocked, his foot back on it, his gaze on me.
"Have you been waiting for me all night?"
His lips quirked up ever so slightly to one side. "Maybe."
No shame or embarrassment at doing so.
Just his normal cocky-confident self.
And, well, a woman could only have so much self-control.
"Let's go," I demanded, waving a hand at the cab.
"Nuh-uh, baby," he said, snagging my wrist as I went to reach for the door handle. "We'll take my bike."
"You've been drinking."
"I had two drinks. Hours ago. Come on. You know you'd rather take a ride on my bike than sit in that nasty ass cab."
Well, he wasn't wrong there.
"Alright," I agreed, giving the driver a smile as Sugar tugged me slightly until I fell into step beside him.
"Ever been on a bike?"
"Actually, no," I admitted, a bit surprised by that fact myself. I had tried to talk Shane into letting me on his, but he had kept telling me some other time. Which meant never.
"Alright. Well," he said, letting go of my wrist to snag the helmet that was sitting on the seat, and reaching up to drop it down on my head.
"Oh, I bet this is a sexy look," I rolled my eyes as he clipped the buckle closed and tightened the strap.
"Burlap sack would look sexy on you." He dished that out casually, matter-of-factly, as he threw a leg over the bike and lowered the ass I was very keen to get my hands on onto the seat. "Climb on," he demanded, glancing back at me. I waited until his gaze moved forward again, then slid my leg over the seat and slipped on behind him. "Closer," he demanded, reaching backward to snag my knees, and dragging me forward until the swatch of fabric covering my pussy was pressed right against his back.
"And this is the part where I'm supposed to wrap my arms around you too, right?" I asked, silently wondering why my voice was airy. I was pretty sure it had never sounded airy before.
"Unless you'd like to fall off and experience road burn down your arms and legs."
Taking a deep breath, my arms slid around his sides, then folded across his stomach, trying not to focus so much on how my bare things were rubbing against the material of his jeans made soft from use.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yep."
"Where am I heading?"
I barely finished speaking before the bike was roaring to life, and we were taking off.
My stomach pitched as my heart flew upward, a sensation I remembered from rollercoasters and bungee jumping, but this was somehow even better with a warm body pressed against mine as the wind whipped against us and the sights I had known for so many years blurred by my sides.
"What do you think?" he asked, having a surprising amount of manners, letting me climb off first without looking, likely knowing there was no way in my short dress that I wouldn't flash him.
"I want a bike," I declared, reaching up to pull off the helmet, then stabbing it back down on the seat as he moved to stand, his body stretching lazily to full height, eyes on me, predatory, promising.
"I could see that," he agreed, advancing on me, making me do something completely uncharacteristic of me - retreat. Until the wall of the building stopped me, hard and unyielding at my back.
Sugar kept moving forward, his hands planting on either side of my head on the wall, caging me in, eyes on mine.
"This is a little dramatic for a second kiss, don't you think?" I asked, actually having to work to sound as confident and unaffected as I usually just was naturally.
"Baby, that brush of lips you laid on me couldn't be considered a kiss at all."
"Hey, I..."
I lost my objection as his head dipped down, and his lips sealed over mine, hard, hot, demanding. There was nothing tentative about this man, about the way he claimed me, took what was so clearly being offered to him.
My head tilted as his lips pressed harder, dragging a low moan out of me. His tongue took advantage of my parted lips, sneaking inside to lay claim to my tongue until my arms were moving from where they were hanging at my sides, going up over his chest to grab the sides of his neck, holding on tight as my body melded into his.
At the contact, his hands left the wall, sliding down my back instead to sink into my ass, grabbing hard, yanking until I was up off my feet with no choice but to dangle or wrap my legs around his waist.
His lips ripped from mine a second later, leaving them feeling swollen and sensitive. "Point me to an apartment," he demanded as my head shifted, lips teasing over the side of his neck, making a growling noise move through him. "I'm not above fucking you right here, Peyton," he told me, making a thrill move through me.
And I was tempted.
Way too tempted.
But I had some nosey neighbors.
And I didn't want this getting back to my family either.
"Inside and to the right," I told him, tightening my hold as he started walking, taking to torturing the edge of his ear as he did so, until he seemed like he couldn't take it anymore, slamming me back against my door, grabbing my face between his hands, and branding his lips into mine. Hard, almost painful, but in the best possible way as I tried to focus enough to wrangle my key out of my wallet.
As soon as I did, his hand was reaching for it, stabbing it into the keyhole, and shoving the door open.
Once inside, he slammed me back against the door, but this time yanked backward, dislodging my legs from his waist, making them fall numbly to the floor, the click of my heels slamming down echoing across my qu
iet apartment.
I barely had a second to get my bearings before he was down on his knees in front of me, yanking up my skirt with one hand, reaching under with the other to snag the tiny swatch of fabric covering my sex. His eyes shifted up to watch my face as his hand tightened and pulled. The ripping of my panties unleashed this buried, primal, animalistic urge inside me, making my already needy pussy clench hard in desperation.
"Fuck," I hissed when just a second later, his head ducked, and his tongue slipped between my lips, finding my clit, then sucking it into his mouth, making whatever strength I had in my legs become questionable as I had to half-fold forward, pressing my palms into his shoulders as he devoured me. There was no other way to put it. His tongue swirled, flicked. His lips sucked. It was clear that this wasn't a tease, wasn't the fastest way to get me begging for his cock.
Oh, no.
Sugar was out to prove what he had said in the bar earlier.
And as I felt my walls tighten almost painfully, promising an orgasm that was going to shatter me, I had the oddest thought running through my head.
He was going to ruin me.
I didn't have time to analyze it though as his lips sucked and his tongue pressed somehow at the same time, pushing me over the edge, sending me spiraling down into the orgasm as my cries echoed off the walls in my apartment, loud even to my own ears, as the waves moved through me, as Sugar kept working me, kept dragging it out, milking it for all it was worth.
"God," I sighed as the waves finally ebbed, as I could finally pull a shuddering breath into my burning lungs. "Ah, no," I shrieked as his gaze went up to mine and his tongue flicked over my too-sensitive clit again. And judging by the wicked look to his eyes, he knew exactly what he was doing.
He slowly moved to his feet when I straightened and leaned back against the door, trying to even out my heartbeat.
"Surpass those expectations yet?" he asked, his voice nothing but gravel and glass, rough and deep with his own need for release.
Surpass them?
More like shattered them.
Oral was a crapshoot for me. I always had to be in the right mindset, and even then, the majority of the time, I wanted fingers involved or a cock inside me to get me there. It was rare that a tongue and lips were enough, let alone something that could make my brain slow and my body tingly.
"Getting there," I lied, not ready to be vulnerable to a man yet. Or ever.
"Getting there, huh?" he asked, teeth nipping hard into my earlobe. "Guess I gotta try again then." A second later, I could feel his hand press against my thigh just a breath before I felt two fingers glide inside me, making a choked moan escape me, needing that friction somehow even after an already lights-out orgasm. His fingers curled and tapped, pressing into my top wall, making my legs buckle almost instantly. I had to reach out and grab his upper arms to stay standing, something that made a low, rumbling sound move through him. It was something that sounded a lot like approval.
"Fucking pussy is dripping still," he told me as though I couldn't feel it myself, knowing as he started thrusting that soon my slickness would be slipping down his fingers, coating his palm. "What do you think, baby?" he asked, fingers curling again to rub against my G-spot. "Should I let you come again?" he asked as his scruff rubbed across my neck. "Or get you almost there over and over until you're begging for my cock?"
"I want..." I started, then broke off on a choke-moan hybrid that I was sure I had never made before as his fingers started raking relentlessly across the top wall, getting me closer and closer, impossibly fast, too fast really. My heart had barely gotten back to a normal beat before he had it slamming too hard again.
My hips shifted and dropped slightly, making the palm of his hand cup me, press into my clit as he kept working my G-spot.
I could feel myself tightening as his gaze lifted to look down at me as my hips were grinding against his hand.
"Oh, fuck it," he said, fingers pressing in harder, making the orgasm explode through my system unexpectedly, too hard and fast for me even to catch a breath to cry out, leaving my mouth opening on a silent moan as my pussy pulsated hard around his fingers.
I hadn't even fully stopped coming before my hands were going down, grabbing the hem of his tee, dragging it up, desperate for more of him, for all of him, for everything I could get.
His fingers pulled out of me, allowed me to drag the shirt up fully, dragging his cut up with it, then discarding both to the floor, my eyes hungrily raking over the deep etches of his abdominal muscles.
My hand shifted downward, forefingers stroking into the deep V of his Adonis belt before grabbing for the button to his jeans, pushing it through, and working the zip down with nearly frantic hands, every inch of me buzzing with the need to feel him inside me. Snagging both his jeans and the tight black material of his boxer briefs, I dragged them both down until they started to fall on their own.
Sugar was stepping out of them even as my hand was seeking his hard, straining cock, promising perfect fulfillment, making my walls tense in anticipation.
Operating on need and desire alone, I slowly lowered myself down as my hand stroked him to the base. Angling my head up to keep my eyes on him, I slowly opened my mouth, but didn't shift forward, didn't take him in.
On a growl, his hand grabbed the back of my neck, holding me in place as his hips shifted forward, shoving his cock into my waiting mouth. It wasn't slow or tentative either. He made me take him to the hilt, each thick inch of him, until I felt the head stab against the back of my throat, having to swallow hard to suppress my gag reflex.
"Didn't tease you," he ground out when I didn't immediately start sucking him. It was a comment really, but also a demand.
I didn't tease you, so don't tease me.
I never had any plans to tease him, though.
Me, I was always a give-as-good-as-I-get kinda girl.
So my hand moved forward, cupping his balls as I pulled my mouth back slightly to cup him with my hand again.
And then I showed him that no one would ever accuse me of being a tease.
I sucked, licked, stroked until his body was tense, until a muscle in his jaw was ticking as he watched me, until his hand was brushing into the back of my neck.
"Enough," he growled, hand shifting to sink into my hair, grabbing, and pulling me onto my feet by it, something that sent a thrill through me.
I was no delicate flower.
I appreciated when a man didn't treat me like one.
As soon as I was on my feet, his hands were going down, snagging my dress, and yanking it upward, fingers raking over my skin in the process, promising marks on my somewhat sensitive skin that I could look over in the morning and remember.
It went up over my head, then dropped silently to the floor, leaving me completely naked in front of him, my nipples tweaking harder at the sudden chill.
"Bed," he growled, hands going behind me to grab my ass again, lifting me. This time when my legs folded across his lower back, his straining cock pressed against my slick pussy, the head rubbing over my clit too perfectly, making me whimper as my head slammed down on his shoulder. "Where's the fucking bedroom, baby?" he asked, sounding as far gone as I felt.
"First door on the right," I told him, thighs tightening on his hips so I could lift up and slide against his cock, getting a small bit of relief from the clawing need inside me.
I swear he made it clear across my apartment in just a few strides.
"The fuck..." he hissed as his foot seemed to catch something, sending him jolting forward a step before he righted himself - and therefore me - swinging us around so he could look down. "Didn't even fucking wake up," he said, sounding both surprised and confused.
"He will sleep through the end of the world," I told him as I realized what he had tripped over - Hannibal asleep in my bedroom doorway.
"Then he should sleep through you screaming my name in a couple minutes," he said, the words like a promise, making my belly do that twisty th
ing all over again.
His hands let go of my ass, reaching up to grab my wrists, pulling until I was no longer holding onto him, then grabbing my hips, yanking, and tossing me backward onto my bed.
I had barely been able to bounce and settle before his body was over mine. His head shifted down, lips closing around my nipple and sucking it hard into his mouth as his other hand raised, squeezing my other breast, rolling the peak until my back was arching, until my hands were raking marks down his back as he tortured me.
"Condom," he growled into my ear as his tongue teased the edge.
"In the bowl on the nightstand," I told him, watching as he lifted up slightly, reaching out, brows going furrowed as he saw the bowl, but he said nothing because there was no denying that he was as desperate as I was to have him inside me.
He pressed back onto his ankles, reaching down to rip open the condom, then rolling it onto his thick cock, making my walls tighten hard.
Finished, he didn't move down over me, didn't spread my thighs, and slam inside me like I had expected.
Instead, his eyes raked over me, heavy-lidded and possessive.
His body shifted slowly forward, arms moving out, his hands snagging me at my elbows, sliding upward as he moved downward, pressing until his palms were closed around my wrists, pinning them above my head.
Unable to put my hands around him, my legs shifted up, closing around his hips as his lips crashed down into mine. Harder. Hungrier. More demanding. Wanting, it seemed, for me to feel him there hours later.
"Fuck me," I groaned, grinding my hips up into him.
"Doesn't sound like begging," he growled back, lips suddenly closing around the skin of my neck... and sucking.
Marked.
He wanted me marked.
And, what's more, I wanted to be marked by him.
Still, I wasn't the begging sort.
My hand yanked uselessly against his hold as my legs crossed over his ass, trying to use my heels to drag him closer, hoping that if I shifted ever so perfectly, I could get his cock where I needed it most.
Seeming to sense my plan, his hips ground downward, pinning me. With his cock pressed exactly against my clit.
The next time I tried to shift, it stroked over the swollen bud, making me whimper out his name.
Sugar (The Henchmen MC Book 12) Page 7