“Please, Rock,” she begged. “Please touch me.”
And he knew what she was after, because he used one booted foot to spread her legs wide and then…
Holy cow!
His hand slid over her ass one last time before traveling farther. Down to the swollen lips of her sex where he cupped her in his palm. Then, when she was about to open her mouth to beg him for more, he used two fingers to gently grind her lips against her aching clitoris. Her eyes crossed, her head fell to the side, and she moaned.
It felt so good. So good and almost enough. Almost.
“Rock,” she panted, pressing back against his hand. Wanting more. Needing more. “Please.”
And, delightful man that he was, he gave her what she needed. With one hand, he reached under her braced arm to cup her breast, stroking her beaded nipple with the edge of his rough thumb. And with the other, he spread her lips, finding her entrance with two thick fingers and pressing, ever so gently but ever so surely, inside.
Three pumps was all it took. Just three forceful pumps of his fingers in and out, and she lost it.
She came hard and fast, her inner muscles squeezing and pulsing and aching. Stars danced on the backs of her eyelids, every follicle of hair on her head felt like it lifted, and she rode the waves of her orgasm with abandon. Reveling in the intense pleasure, celebrating the joy that was the human body brought to the sexual brink. And when she crested that last wave, when her body spasmed for the final time, she realized that low, keening wail that’d been filling her head was actually her.
***
Good God almighty.
Rock had never been with a woman who had a hair trigger before, and he had to admit, he’d been missing out. Because watching Vanessa go off like a bottle rocket every time he touched her was sexy as hell. Too sexy.
And all he could think was that he wanted to be inside of her. Now.
Catching hold of her waist, he spun her around and hoisted her onto Patriot’s seat, stepping between her thighs as she braced her bare feet on the chrome exhaust. And then she was grabbing him with one hand while she used the other and her teeth—sweet Lord have mercy—to rip open a foil condom wrapper.
A second later he was sheathed and she was using him against her. Rubbing the swollen, aching head of him like a sex toy up and down the length of her until she put the very tip of him inside…
And even though his eyes were crossed in ecstasy, he couldn’t rip them away from what he was seeing. Because if he’d thought watching her go off like a bottle rocket while he’d used his fingers was hot, it was nothing compared to watching the length of himself disappear inside of her. Inch by slow, steady inch.
Hot and tight and wet…
“I just want to…” She hooked her heels above his butt and jerked him forward until he was seated to the hilt.
“Unh,” he exhaled, and she moaned, “Oh, that feels good.”
Good? It felt better than good. It felt transcendent. She was holding him so snugly while simultaneously melting all around him, and she looked like every fantasy he’d ever had come to life. Because she was once again bracing herself with one hand on the gas tank and the other on the back fender and her dark head was thrown back, which made her breasts stand up all pretty and round.
He bent to suck one of those proud peaks into his mouth, and the taste of her combined with the minty, clean smell of her had his orgasm threatening at the base of his spine. He felt his balls pull up close to his body even as they were smashed against the smooth globes of her ass.
And then he did something he hadn’t done in years…
He forgot about finesse and cadence and skill. He simply placed a hand at the small of her back so that her pelvis tilted forward and proceeded to pump into her with everything he had.
It was a hard, driving rhythm, a single-minded determination to sate the hunger of his desire. Of hers.
Each stroke ended with his name on her lips, each withdraw was a harsh, indrawn breath. And then she was coming again. Moaning and tightening around him, and he let her nipple pop free of his mouth so he could clench his jaw against the mind-numbing pleasure.
Too soon. He didn’t want it to end, but…
A litany of French curses spilled from his lips as he came and came and came some more, the storm raging outside, lightning flashing and thunder roaring. Dieu, it seemed endless, and yet it wasn’t enough, because it was the best orgasm of his entire life, and he never wanted it to stop.
He never wanted to be separate from the sultry grip of her body, never wanted the pleasure to end. But end it did. Finally. After many long seconds.
And when the world stopped spinning and his head stopped floating somewhere near the ceiling, he pulled back to find Vanessa watching him. Her succulent bottom lip caught between her teeth. A tentative little smile making the corners of her dark eyes crinkle. And for a moment, he was dumbstruck.
Because this woman, this incredible, wonderful, smart, beautiful, funny, lusty woman wanted him again. It was there on her face, in the question in her eyes.
“You’re insatiable,” he declared, chuckling and shaking his head. His chest was still rising and falling like he’d run a race, he was still shivering from the unbelievable orgasm he’d had, and she wanted him again.
“Hey,” she shook her head and tightened around him for emphasis. “If this is going to be the only night you tear down those walls, I want to make sure I take full advantage.”
God love the woman; she was nothing if not audacious. Honest to a goddamned fault.
“Well, how about we take that full advantage upstairs, to my bed, non?” he asked, then a tickling on the back of his leg had him frowning.
“What? What is it?” Her brow crinkled adorably.
“Is that your toe?”
“Huh?”
“On my calf?”
She dropped her chin and stared up at him like maybe he’d finally gone around the bend. And to add emphasis to their current position, she tightened her legs around him, reminding him that one: they were still locked together—dieu, she was so tight and wet and wonderful—and two: her ankles were still securely fastened together just above his ass.
So…“What the hell is that?” he asked, almost afraid to look.
Pushing aside his shoulder, she glanced around and down, and then sat back on the bike, her lips rolled in, her eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter.
He sucked his teeth and lifted a brow. “Is that a cat’s tongue?”
She nodded, but this time there was no suppressing her laughter. A snort turned into a giggle, which quickly morphed to a hiccupping chortle.
Rock glanced over his shoulder and down to find Peanut, the world’s ugliest, fattest, most odor-ific tomcat—and the Black Knights’ acting mascot—licking the back of his leg while one severely crooked tail swished back and forth happily.
“Fiche moi le paix.” Get the fuck away from me, he said, trying to nudge Peanut and his rasping tongue away with one booted foot. But his wide stance combined with the grip of Vanessa’s vice-like thighs and the fact that his jeans were still down around his ankles to preclude the movement. And then the stupid cat made everything so much worse by rising up on his back legs—quite a feat given Peanut’s substantial girth—in order to lick the back of Rock’s knee.
Vanessa lost it. She hooted with laughter and, had he not been being molested be an overzealous tomcat, he could have appreciated the way it made her wet sheath tighten around him. But really? This thing had just gotten weird. And he’d had some pretty funky fantasies over the years, one in particular that involved candy corn and a feather duster, but a fat cat with a sandpaper tongue was too much, even for him.
“Little help here?” he grumbled, turning back to Vanessa, making sure both his tone and his expression accurately displayed his displeasure.
“What?” she asked innocently, batting her lashes and looking too sexy for words, all tousled hair and rosy cheeks. “I thought you liked puss—
”
He slammed a finger over her lips and shook his head. “Don’t say it.”
She just grinned evilly around his finger as the rain suddenly let up, no longer lashing against the leaded glass windows. That’s how it was here in the Midwest: thunderstorms rolled out as quickly as they rolled in. And it was almost like their lovemaking had been, maybe not so much caused by the electricity in the air, but certainly enhanced by it.
As least that’s what he was going to tell himself. Because the other alternative was that it was, hands-down, no-holds-barred, the best sex of his entire goddamned life, and he just couldn’t go there. Not now. Maybe not ever. Because it scared the shit out of him to contemplate exactly why that might be the case. I mean, oui, there was the whole getting-it-on on the back of his bike that was undoubtedly super hot, but he highly suspected his level of excitement and enjoyment had less to do with the fantasy-worthy situation and location, and more to do with the fact that it was…well…Vanessa.
“Is the big, bad operator put off by a little feline lovin’?” she taunted once he removed his finger, her light tone and teasing eyes jerking him out from under the weight of his heavy thoughts.
In answer, he grabbed her hips and stroked into her. Hard.
And that accomplished exactly what he hoped it would. Because all the laughter left her face and her mouth opened on a quickly indrawn breath.
“Upstairs?” she asked after a long second of staring into his eyes, her breasts rising and falling rapidly.
“Indeed,” he concurred.
And then the race was on.
He pulled out of her and bent to shove Peanut away while simultaneously yanking up his jeans and twisting off the used condom. She hopped off Patriot and leaned over—mon dieu—to gather up her clothes before sprinting for the stairs.
God love her, she didn’t even attempt to drag on a stitch before she was hauling ass up to the second floor.
Running after her, he barely heard Peanut’s baleful wail of desertion before he was on the second-floor landing, chasing her around the conference table, delighting in her teasing laughter as she headed for the stairs leading to the third-floor living space, totally engrossed in watching the bounce of her round butt cheeks and the occasional glimpse he had of her jouncing breasts.
He made a grab for her on the stairs—all that tan, jiggling flesh was too much to resist—but she twisted out of his grip, and he was left to stumble up after her. Once they made it to his room, he tossed the used condom in the trash, caught her around the waist, and heaved her onto his bed.
She landed with her thighs spread, all that was wet and warm and womanly on display, and he jumped on top of her, settling between her lovely legs, reveling in the fact that she instantly claimed his mouth, sucking and laving and…sucking.
The woman was doing her best impression of a Hoover on his tongue, and the thought of how unbelievably insane that would feel on his dick had the top of his head lifting away.
“You gonna keep your boots on again, cowboy?” she giggled when he kissed his way down her fragrant neck.
He glanced up at her and Mr. Happy once again pounded against his fly because, merde, she was so goddamned beautiful. “Depends,” he smirked. “Would you like me to?”
She caught her plump lower lip between her teeth and nodded, her dark eyes glinting mischievously. “But lose the jeans, will you?”
“I aim to please,” he said, catching one brown nipple between his lips and chuckling when she speared her fingers into his hair, breathing, “Oh, Rock…”
Oui, ma petite, it’s Rock making you feel so good, so hot, making you burn from the inside out.
And then she did it again, astounded him and left him breathless all at the same time, because she hooked a finger under his chin, forcing him to release her delicious nipple and stare up into her pretty face. “Richard,” that name went through him like a lightning strike, “I said, lose the jeans.”
And, boy howdy, in the next second you better believe he set the world record for shucking britches.
***
Two things woke Vanessa.
One was the fact that, despite the glowing numbers on the clock reading oh-nine-hundred in the morning, it was pitch dark inside Rock’s bedroom. At some point, he must’ve inadvertently switched off the bathroom light which had been burning during all three—yes, count them, three, and the last time in the shower should really count twice—of the absolutely delicious love-making sessions they’d indulged in. The man was a veritable prodigy. They’d done it every which way imaginable and a couple she’d never even dreamed of.
Who knew turning her head toward the foot of the bed and hooking her heels over the headboard while Rock straddled her and stroked into her would result in her thighs squeezing together, which, in turn, allowed his penis to rub…Just. The. Right. Spot?
And that brought her around to the second thing to wake her…
The feel of Rock’s erection, hot and pulsing against her hip.
She grinned into the darkness and turned toward him, reaching down to palm the smooth, warm length of him. And he was awake instantly, the steady cadence of his breathing coming to a sudden stop.
“Oh, shit,” he said.
“Not exactly the response I was hoping for,” she frowned, stilling her hand.
“Non, non, chere. Not that. I was talkin’ about the light. I didn’t mean to switch it off. It’s just habit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, stroking him again and loving the way his hips thrust up into her hand and the way he sucked in a harsh breath. “After that conversation we had in the jungle,” stroke, twist, stroke, “I’m not afraid anymore. Funny how easy it was to overcome once I actually knew the root of the issue.”
“I’m so glad.” His sleepy voice was a warm tongue licking up her spine.
And she couldn’t stand it. She had to kiss him. But morning breath was always an issue, so she satisfied herself with leaning forward to place tender kisses up the column of his warm neck and back farther, to his ear.
Stroke, twist, stroke. She kept up the rhythm she’d learned would shoot him to the moon as she sucked his lobe between her teeth, licking it softly.
“Mmm,” he said, and she smiled because she’d rendered him speechless. Or so she thought, because in the next second he said in that low, rumbly voice of his, “Climb up here, ma petite.”
“Condom?”
“Hmm, mmm,” he murmured. “I want to use my mouth on you.”
And despite herself, despite the numerous things they’d done together, done to each other, that request had heat climbing into her cheeks. Because it was such a vulnerable position to be in, vulnerable and powerful all at the same time. But she trusted Rock like she’d never trusted any man. And, more than that, she wanted to please him, to make him understand how good they could be together, how good they already were together.
She kicked away the covers and pushed to her knees. Throwing a leg over him, banging her knee—ow—on the headboard in the process, she straddled his wide shoulders. Then she wasn’t thinking about her poor knee at all. Because he said, “Turn around.”
“Turn around…? Oh.” Oh!
She felt herself flush, but she did as instructed. He used both hands to palm her bottom, and the next second his hot breath feathered over her.
Wet.
She was instantly wet and aching.
And then wet and aching didn’t begin to describe what she was feeling when his hot, agile tongue speared into her. And when he growled, low and throaty…Oh, the vibration!
She nearly lost it.
But this was supposed to be about give and take, what’s good for the goose being good for the gander and all that jazz. So she bent, supporting herself with one hand while she grabbed hold of him, sucking his length into her mouth.
He tasted salty and male. He smelled like sex.
She was instantly on the precipice. And when he dipped his chin and caught her swollen clit
oris between his soft lips, flicking it gently with his tongue, she knew she didn’t have long. So with her mouth and her hand she did that “thing” he appeared to like so much.
And her reward? The swift upward thrust of his hips.
Oh, yeah…
And, just as she’d come to expect, the man didn’t disappoint. He shoved a thumb inside her, laved at the aching bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, and when she began to tighten around him, she felt him jerk in her hand, felt him pulse. Hard.
And then he was falling over the edge. They both were. And it was sensual as hell, sexy as sin, the world shrinking down to just the two of them. Locked together. Giving pleasure and receiving it. The sights and sounds and tastes of completion melding together into one giant kaleidoscope of unbelievable sensation.
For long moments afterward, they remained like that, mouths on each other, breath shuddering from their lungs. Then Rock smacked her ass and she sat up, turning to glare at him. Which was silly, since she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.
She was about to open her mouth to scold him when there was a hard knock at the door. And before either of them had a second to think, much less do the whole naked-ass scramble, the thing swung open and harsh light spilled onto the bed.
“Jesus Christ!”
Uh, that’d be Bill’s voice. Vanessa couldn’t see him because one, she was blinded by the sudden light, and two, she was too busy flying through the air as Rock grabbed her around the waist and tossed her to the far side of the bed, throwing the covers over her.
“What the hell, dude?” Rock yelled, and, yeah, Vanessa seconded that opinion.
“Sorry. Jesus. Sorry, man.” Vanessa could hear the embarrassment and was that…? Yes, that was definitely a touch of amusement in Bill’s tone. Great. Just…perfect. “I didn’t know…” Bill stopped there and even though she couldn’t see him, she was pretty sure he was fighting a grin. “Uh, supposedly there’s a guy at the front gate with this crazy story that involves you. So I was thinking…”
“I’ll be down in five,” Rock grumbled, the dissipating light an indication the door was already closing. Thank God. But before it shut all the way, Bill said one more thing, “Dude, are your boots still on?”
Thrill Ride Page 25