She unhooked his belt. Unsnapped his jeans. Lowered the zipper. Surprise, surprise, Cass wasn’t the type to wear boxers or briefs. Commando only. As if she hadn’t already guessed that about him. What she had not guessed was exactly how, uh, big he would be. The heavy, full length of his arousal thrust into her fingers. Way more solid than she’d expected—and she’d had high expectations. So, maybe this was the part where she should warn him that when she’d said that she didn’t have a lot of experience, she’d meant…
It’s been years. We may need to go slow.
Except she didn’t want to go slow. If she went too slow, she might change her mind. She might lose this wonderful sense of anticipation and hunger that filled her.
No, forget being slow. She’d go fast. Two hundred miles an hour? Would that be fast enough?
She shimmed forward, her head bent, and she put her mouth on the head of his dick.
“Agnes.” His hands clamped around her shoulders.
She opened her mouth wider. Took him in deeper. Licked and sucked, and she loved the way he tasted. Cass tasted good, and she wanted to see if she could push him to the edge, then beyond. Wouldn’t that be something? Agnes Quinn, making the big, bad biker go wild for her?—
“Cass!” His name broke from her because he’d just pulled away. And pushed her back. Back and down on the bed. Her shoulders hit the mattress as he loomed over her.
“You go straight for what you want, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked her.
“Life is too short…” And far too fragile. “To do anything else.”
“Fair enough. Then it’s my turn to get what I want.” One of his hands smoothed up the inside of her thigh. He pushed the edge of her skirt up higher. Higher…
She realized that she was holding her breath. When he touched her, rubbing her core though the soft silk of her panties, her breath left her in a heaving rush.
“How long do you think it will take you to come for me?” Cass asked.
She had no clue, but her hips were eagerly pushing down against those stroking fingers of his. Her panties were in the way. If he could just tug them down or drag them to the side and get them out of the way, that would be outstanding.
“What do you like, FBI Agent Quinn?” Cass demanded.
Who knew? She didn’t. They could find out together. “Ah…this is good.” Breathy.
“Good isn’t what I’m going for. I want you screaming.”
Was that a possibility? “Then you should really get my panties out of the way.”
He did. He didn’t tug them down. He ripped them. The sound was overly loud, and her eyes widened.
Laughing softly, he tossed aside the scrap of silk. “Aw, sweetheart. That the first time you’ve had your panties ripped away?”
Yes, it was. Were her panties supposed to get ripped away every day or something? Was that normal for some people?
“You’ve clearly been around the wrong men. Let me show you what it’s like when a bad guy fucks you.”
He shoved her legs apart. Her skirt gave up the fight and exposed her completely.
“Pretty,” Cass whispered.
Was she supposed to say “thank you” for the compliment? She was clearly thinking and worrying too much, and she needed to switch off the over-thinking and turn on the feeling, but she had no idea how to do that and?—
His mouth was on her.
Right. On. Her.
Licking her clit. Sucking her clit. Then even thrusting inside of her.
She jerked and tried to heave up on the bed, but his hands clamped around her hips. His head lifted.
Oh, wow. Savage desire marked the side of his face that she could clearly see.
