“It is,” I start, licking my lips. “But I want to come again. With you inside me. Right here.”
For one heartbeat, nothing happens. Then his eyes darken, and the edges of his mouth kick up. “You don’t need to ask, baby.You want my dick, you fuckin’ got it.” He slams his mouth to mine, his hands lifting me up by the back of my thighs.
He lifts me and I use my grip on him to line us up. The first inch pulls a sound out of me I don’t mean to make. My fingers curl into his shoulders.
“Holy fuck, Rafe.”
His answering grin is slow. “That’s it, baby. One inch at a time, yeah?”
Time ceases, speeds up, and slows down as I ease myself onto Rafe’s cock. It’s the most exquisite torture. The stretch makes my eyes blur, my mouth fall open, every thought I had dissolving somewhere between his hands and the sky above and the ocean below.
When I’ve taken all of him, he presses his forehead to mine and whispers, “You’re fucking perfect.”
“You are,” I fire back, but my voice is ragged and ruined.
I start riding him, slow at first, savoring every inch, and he lets me set the pace for a moment. Then he takes over. His hands on my hips, holding me down, fucking up into me so hard the bike rattles on its kickstand. I brace myself against his chest, digging in, trying not to fly apart.
He breaks the kiss long enough to look me in the eyes, and the intensity there is savage. “We should go to my house.”
“I don’t want to stop,” I gasp, grinding down harder, chasing the next wave already building in my gut.
“You can make it three blocks, baby.”
I shake my head as the familiar tingle of pleasure starts in my fingertips. “I can’t. It’s too good. Don’t stop.Please, Rafe.”
He doesn’t change the rhythm, continuing to hit that special spot inside of me. “Anyone can drive by and see us. Is that what you want? Do you want strangers to see me fuck this pussy?” He brings his hand between us, thumbing my clit with small circles. “I don't think I want to share you, baby.”
My internal muscles squeeze him. “What if I want to be shared?”
Rafe thrusts harder and tangles his fingers in my hair, tugging my head back so all I see is endless sky.
He drags his lips across my exposed neck. “Not with strangers. I'll let them watch if that's what you want. But know that I'm going to have to take them to the desert afterward. Do you want that on your conscious, baby?”
Lust rolls over me in an intense wave, my orgasm is close enough that I can almost taste it. I just need a little more.
I shake my head. “No, no I don't want that.” My hips roll forward without my permission. “But I want—” The words dissolve. I tip my head back toward the open sky and just let myself feel it, the exposure of it, the openness, the idea of eyes on us from somewhere I can’t see. I lick my lips and whisper, “But I like the idea of being watched.”
“Then pretend one of my brothers is sitting in a car right now,” he murmurs against my mouth, “watching every second of this.”
My whole body answers before I do. My nails drag down his chest, my hips stutter, and then I’m gone—clenching around him, shaking, a sound tearing out of me that I couldn’t have swallowed if I’d tried.
He’s still inside me, still hard, even as the aftershocks rip through my body. I have to catch his shoulders to keep from sliding off his lap, the world pitching and tilting, my vision fuzzed at the edges. I feel wild and scraped raw, ruined in the best possible way.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the word ragged. “You’re still squeezing me.”
“Drive,” I rasp. “Take me to your house.” I dig my nails into his arms, trying to anchor myself to something. “But don’t stop.”
Something shifts in his expression—jaw tightening, eyes dropping to my mouth for one suspended second. Then his hands find my hips, hauling me closer, and sinking deeper inside of me, and the engine turns over beneath us.
Three blocks have never lasted so long.
TWENTY-EIGHT
BELLAMY
Rafe barely rollsthe bike into the driveway when his phone vibrates inside his pocket—against the back of my thigh.
“Are you going to get that?” I murmur into his neck, rocking my hips.
