She deserves it all. Her first time should’ve been with some puppy-eyed college boyfriend who worships the ground she walks on. Not a rough-ass biker in his clubhouse bedroom. I’m tempted to put a stop to it. Tell her to get dressed and leave. But she’s not a kid. She knows what she wants, and for some damn reason she wants me as much as I want her.
“Steel,” she whispers.
Her fingers free my belt and work the button on my jeans. My zipper gives, a sharpzingof metal on metal that echoes between us.
I do nothing to stop her when she pushes my boxers down and takes my dick in her hand. Her warm palm barely wraps around the girth of me, and like the bastard I am, I savor the gasp when she learns, firsthand, just how big I am.
She arches up. Her excitement is contagious. It feeds the monster inside of me until my blood is roaring in my ears. When she runs her hand down the length of me, exploring me because I’ve promised her that it is all now hers, and tilts her head back, bringing her nose to my throat and inhales hard, scenting me, it does something to me, hits me in the most feral of spots, but fills up all the aching, bleeding holes that have been eating away at my insides my whole life.
“I want to take this dress off,” Leah says huskily, and I feel her words straight to the center of me.
My cock throbs in her hand, liking the damn direction of those thoughts.
“I want to take your clothes off too. I want us to just be skin on skin. I want to feel you.”
I slam my mouth against hers, and it takes her all of a second to part her lips and respond. She kisses me back, surrendering to me when she needs to, surprising me with a nip to my bottom lip. She keeps her hand on my dick, her palm clenching around me, and it feels like heaven. She bites me so hard that I taste blood. When she licks it away hungrily with her tongue, my cock jerks violently in her hand, like I’m the inexperienced one.
Her fingers work at my leather vest, ripping down the zipper until I tear away and capture her hands, carefully working it free. I break away from her, which takes the last of my willpower, to get up and shuck the jacket, tossing it on the chair beside my bed.
Leah watches me with hungry eyes, her pupils blown, her lips red and kiss swollen, pretty pale skin chafed raw along her chin from my beard.
My T-shirt follows and I tear my jeans down my legs, watching in utter satisfaction as her eyes widen still when she sees my dick for the first time. She just had her hand wrapped around it, but I know it couldn’t prepare her for it. The tip is swollen nearly purple, angry looking, the shaft thick and veiny. I am so hard that the bastard stands straight up against my ridged stomach.
I know that when Leah’s eyes sweep over me, she’s taking in every single inch, and the way her tongue darts out to lick her lips, the fire blazing in her eyes, the flare of her nostrils, they tell me that I am the one she wants.
She wantsme. All of me.
I wouldn’t have dared believe it. I have been craving her for three fucking years, and I can barely wait the few seconds that it takes for me to pull her off the bed, grasp the straps of her dress and slide it down her shoulders. I’m careful, mindful that it is the only clothing she’s got, though I would like nothing more than to tear the fucking thing clean in two.
Instead, I work the zipper free with care, and when I slide that fabric down her body, and she is bare below, bared to the light and to me, I let out a carnal moan.
She is perfect.
Creamy skin, tight perky tits, hard pink nipples, a flat muscular stomach, shapely hips, long slender legs…
Any man’s wet dream.
But she is not any man’s. She’smine.
My mouth waters to taste her again, and my hand closes over her shoulder, forcing her to sit down on the edge of the bed. Her legs give out under the pressure, and she lets out a little gasp as my head falls to her breast. I take her nipple intomy mouth, suckling it, rolling it between my teeth before I do the same to the other.
Her hands scrape over my shoulders, her nails leaving little crescent indents on my skin. She pants my name, and I love how it rolls off her tongue, a cross between a plea and a prayer. Whether she believes it or not, I’m the only man she’s ever gonna have inside of her.
I release her nipple with a wetpopthat makes her whimper. “You want me to feast on your pussy again, darlin’, or do you want something else?”
She hesitates for just a second, that sweet rose blush tinting her cheeks.
Just to make sure she knows what she wants, who she wants worshipping her, inside of her, spreading her tight virgin pussy wide, I drop my hand to her swollen clit. Her hips rock as she grinds against me, there’s a rush of wetness that soaks the underside of my palm. She’s so wet, so incredibly responsive, it takes my breath away. I don’t know what the hell she’s doing to me, but if she’s my weakness, then maybe I want to give up being strong and mighty and just be goddamn weak for her.
“I-I want you to do it,” she whispers in my ear.
I want to hear her beg. I need to hear her say it.
“Do what? This?”
I drop my fingers lower, trailing through her juices, right to her entrance. I dip my finger in shallow, careful not to go too deep. Just the feel of her, so tight and glorious clenching around me, makes my balls feel like they are going to explode.
“N-no.” She pants. “Well, yes, but I-I want you to… to put your cock inside of me.”
