I stop beside the bike and turn her gently so I can get the helmet on her. My hands slow automatically, careful, precise. I lift her hair free of the strap, my knuckles brushing the warm skin at the back of her neck, and my jaw tightens. That tiny touch hits harder than it should. Her eyes flick up to mine and for half a second the world narrows down to just the two of us and the low thrum of the city around us.
“You good?” I ask, voice rougher than I mean it to be.
She nods, a soft smile tugging at her mouth. “Yeah.”
I fasten the strap, give it a small tug to make sure it’s secure, my thumb brushing under her chin without thinking. The instinct to protect sits thick in my chest, heavy and consuming. I want her wrapped in armor. I want every threat a mile away from her. I want the world quiet and harmless and bent away from her orbit.
I step back before that thought goes somewhere dangerous.
She climbs on behind me and settles close, her hands finding my waist, her body fitting against my back like it was built there. The contact sends a sharp, grounding jolt through me. I welcome it. Anchor it. Let it pull me back into control.
The engine roars to life beneath us and we roll into the street, the city unfolding in streaks of color and motion. Streetlights smear into gold lines. Storefronts glow and vanish. Traffic hums and fades into background noise.
But none of it really registers. All I can see is the faint reflection of her helmet in my mirrors. All I can hear is the way her breathmoves against my back. All I can feel is the heat of her body pressed into mine, her grip tightening every time I lean us into a turn.
Every mile pulls me deeper into that singular focus. Her weight. Her trust. The way she shifts with me without thinking, already in rhythm with the bike and my body like we’ve done this a hundred times instead of once.
My mind keeps flashing back to the way she looked, the way she sounded, the way she melted into me, and I clamp down hard on the memory. Not here. Not now. I need my head clear. I need my hands steady.
She leans her helmet lightly against my shoulder and something inside my chest goes dangerously soft. The city keeps rushing past in buzzing color and sound, but inside my helmet it’s just her and the steady roar of the engine and the pounding of my own heart.
I pull up to my house and cut the engine, the sudden quiet ringing in my ears after the roar of the ride. My hands linger on the grips for half a second longer than necessary, grounding myself, steadying the pulse that’s still hammering too fast.
I swing off the bike and help her down, my hands settling automatically at her waist to steady her. She’s warm, solid, real. The helmet comes off and her hair tumbles free in the porch light, and something in my chest tightens so hard it almost hurts.
I take her hand and lead her to the front door, keys already in my grip. The lock clicks, the door swings open, and we barely make it over the threshold before the tension inside me snaps.
I turn and press her back against the wall, my body fitting into the space like it was always meant to be there. My hand slides to the hem of her shirt and drags it up and over her head in one impatient motion, fabric forgotten somewhere behind us. Her full fucking tits bounce free and I go momentarily still, mesmerized. I knew they were big, but fuck, I didn’t realize she was built like this.
I palm myself once, a sharp breath through my teeth. Easy, boy. We’re taking our time. My mouth finds hers immediately, deep and demanding, all the hunger I kept chained on the ride pouring straight into the kiss.
She makes a soft sound into my mouth that shoots straight through me. Her hands clutch at my shoulders, grounding and desperate all at once, and the world narrows to heat and breath and the way she melts into me like she’s been waiting for this too.
I crowd closer, forearm braced beside her head, kissing her like I’m staking a claim, like I need to feel her right here, right now, to keep myself from unraveling completely. My pulse is loud. My body tight with barely leashed restraint. My mind spinning in dangerous, possessive circles.
I grab her perfectly round ass and lift her up the wall. She circles her legs around my waist, kissing me back just as hard. I keep kissing her as I carry us toward the bedroom, bumping into furniture and walls along the way, her laughter mixing with breathless little sounds that make my grip tighten. I don’t bother turning on any lights when we make it to the room, there isn’t time for that. I drop her onto the bed and stand there for half a second too long, just looking at her, chest heaving, control stretched thin. I need her. Not gently. Not politely. I need her like oxygen.
I help her out of her jeans and shoes, then drag my shirt over my head and kick off my boots, shoving my jeans down my hips. Fuck. I’ve thought about this for far longer than I should have.
Now she’s here. She’s mine. And I’m going to show her exactly what that means. “Slide back,” I say, my voice rough and low.
She crawls back until the back of her head bumps my pillows. I kneel between her open legs and slide my hands up her creamy thighs. Jesus. This woman is going to kill me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I kiss up her calf, slow and deliberate, then along the inside of her thigh. I stop there and lift my head, really looking at the woman sprawled on my bed. No other woman has ever been in this bed. And I’m so damn happy about that. She’s the only one who will ever be here.
Her hands are on her tits, kneading them, tugging at her tight red nipples. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes hooded and wrecked for me. She needs relief, and I’m going to be the one to give it to her. The only one who will ever touch her again. I’ll give her the whole fucking world.
“Look at you,” I murmur, voice thick with intent. “Already giving yourself to me.” Kissing up her thighs, I run my nose between her mound and groan, my dick spewing precum like a fucking teenager. I fist my hand around my shaft, stroking hard, needing a second of relief before pinching the head and forcing myself to slow down.
I lick between her lips, tasting her sweet-as-sin come. Fuck me. One taste will never be enough. I think I always knew that if I ever got my hands on her, I wouldn’t be able to stay away. Now I know for sure. She’s unleashed something feral inside me.
I go back to her desperately, sucking on her clit with my needy mouth, my tongue working her until she gasps. I drive two fingers into her pussy and moan when her walls clamp down around me, tight and greedy.
“That’s it, baby,” I murmur against her pussy. “Gotta get you ready for me. Don’t want to hurt you.”
She mewls beneath me and my cock throbs in answer, heavy and aching. Soon. Soon I’ll be inside the only pussy that’s ever owned me.
Reaching up, I grab one of her huge tits, twisting her nipple between my fingers. She cries out and her pussy clamps down hard around my fingers. I thumb her clit, slow circles that make her gasp, while two fingers thrust deep into her hot, wet cunt. Fucking fuck. “Come for me, Princess.”
