His kiss deepened, and he went in another inch.
I whimpered.
He broke the kiss and lifted his head.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“You’re—”
“I got some heft.”
Heft.
I hadn’t seen him and I didn’t know how long he was.
But he was thick.
“Yeah, baby?” he prompted, and I felt him straining to hold back.
He wanted inside.
But he was holding back, making sure I was good.
God.
Rush.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
He slid in another inch.
And stopped.
“Baby,” I breathed.
“Fuck, you’re tight. Sweet. Tight. Slick. Fuck,” he groaned.
I lifted my head and nipped his lips.
His face darkened and he slid in another inch.
“Yes,” I panted.
“More?” he grunted.
“Yes,” I hissed.
He slid in all the way.
I clutched his neck and slipped my other hand down to find my nails digging in the bare, molded, muscle of his ass.
Nice.
But he’d gotten naked and I missed it.
Next time, I would not.
“Rush.”
“Good?”
“Rush—”
“Honey, you good?”
I twisted my hand to glide my fingers up into the flips and curls of his hair, cup his head and lifted mine off the bed until my lips were to his, my eyes looking right into his, and I begged, “Fuck me, Rush.”
His lids lowered (sexy AF), he slanted his head, took my mouth and moved inside me.
Slow.
Gentle.
Sweet.
His hand went to my breast, teasing my nipple.
Oh yes.
I grabbed his ass in my hand, holding tight, pulling him to me, sliding my calves down to wrap around the backs of his thighs and holding on.
He kept kissing me and went faster.
I broke the kiss, went after his neck, fisting my hand in his hair to pull his head back so he’d expose his throat to me.
“Christ,” he groaned.
And went faster, deeper.
I opened my mouth over his throat and took him with lips and tongue, like I’d suck his cock, all the way down.
“Christ,” he grunted.
His hand at my breast slid down, in, and his finger was at my clit.
Oh . . .
Yes.
My head fell back.
He took my mouth.
And went faster, harder.
“Rush,” I breathed into his mouth, finding his rhythm with my hips, trailing my other hand down so I had two handfuls of his ass, pulling him into me.
“Find it,” he grunted.
“Baby.”
His finger pressed tighter, rolled harder, as his thrusts inside went even faster.
“Find it,” he growled into my mouth.
I gripped his ass with my hands, lifted my knees, pressed my thighs to his hips and closed my eyes, bowing up into him as he gave it to me again.
God, how could the second one be better?
I didn’t know.
I just felt it.
And it was fabulous.
“Thank Christ,” he muttered then bucked, once, twice, three times, four, grunting through each before he planted himself inside, shoved his face in my neck and groaned into my skin.
I melted into the bed.
Rush collapsed into me.
When I came to, his mouth was moving on me.
My neck.
My chest.
Over the swell of my breast.
I wound my limbs tight around him as he rolled my nipple with his tongue.
I tipped my chin down and watched through half-closed eyes his dark head against my light skin, his strong glistening tongue swirling my sensitive nipple.
“Honey,” I called.
His head came up, his gaze came to me, before he shifted over me and put his mouth to mine.
I expected him to kiss me.
He didn’t kiss me.
And I only had the barest second to process the intensity in his look, the possession stark there, hunger slaked, satisfaction a given. I knew before he even said it I had hold on a man who was about to stake his claim.
“I’m keeping you,” he said against my lips.
He was keeping me.
I was going to belong to somebody.
And that somebody was Rush Allen.
I was pretty sure in that moment I’d start crying.
Rush didn’t give me a shot.
“And do not think I’m gonna let you be lazy. I get rid of this condom, baby, round two. I don’t know how it’s gonna go, but part of it’s gonna include you blowin’ me, so warm up that mouth while I’m gone. And get ready. With that brilliance as an intro, we’re gonna go all night.”
Only then did he kiss me, wet and rough and deep.
When he pulled away, he caught my lower lip in his teeth and took it with him, necessitating me going with it, and pretty much every inch of my body quivered.
He let it go, gave me a wicked, biker-boy-who-had-a-big-dick-and-knew-that-he-knew-how-to-use-it grin and he slid out of me and bed.
I watched him walk to the master bath he told me he’d redone.
I hadn’t seen much of him during our session, but I’d felt it.
It definitely felt nice.
But to his fantastic chest, now I could add visible proof of a great back, incredible thighs and an amazing ass that seemed even more amazing with my scratch marks and nail dents.
I turned to my side and hugged my legs into my chest.
I did not warm up my mouth.
First, I had no idea how.
Second, I couldn’t stop smiling.
“You want me to go get the tequila?” he called from the bathroom.
We’re gonna go all night.
“Yes,” I called back.
I was going to get my brains banged out by a beautiful biker.
So yeah.
Oh yeah.
I was still smiling.
Free and Easy
Rush
The next morning . . .
His phone ringing woke him.
Rush immediately smelled Rebel’s hair since his face was in it.
It smelled nothing but clean and felt nothing but good.
They were both naked, he was at her back, partially pinning her to the bed.
He had his arm around her, but it was Rebel who had his hand held loosely in hers, tucked between the bed and her chest.
The comforter had slid off somewhere along the way last night, so it was only his sheet that was up to their waists, tangled in their legs.
After a wild date that was good and bad, they’d had a spectacular night.
Tequila.
Getting loose.
And lots of phenomenal fucking.
She was a great lay.
Fuck, when bodies weren’t being dumped and she didn’t have shit jacking with her head, Rebel Stapleton was a great everything.
He’d learned a lot from his dad.
One of those things was, you find a redhead who did it for you, even if it was early in your relationship, if you knew in your gut that it was right, you didn’t let go.
So yeah.
He’d made his decision.
He was keeping her.
His phone kept ringing and he liked where he was so much, he didn’t want to move.
Rebel didn’t even twitch.
He grinned into her hair thinking this was not a surprise.
After the fifth time, he’d lost track of how many times she went.
And she’d wrung four out of him.
He didn’t think she’d get that fourth, but watching all that hair, that beautiful face, and those full, firm, sweet tits bouncing while she rode his dick with her tight, sleek pussy milking him, his body had no choice but to blow.
So she’d gotten her fourth.
And he had no problem giving it to her.
He could tell by the way the sun was hitting his bed it was not early and unfortunately shit was wired, so he couldn’t ignore a call.
On that thought and a sigh, he carefully slid his hand from her hold and rolled.
When he made the other side of the bed, the phone had stopped ringing.
Rush still reached to his jeans, dragged them to him, dug his phone out of the back pocket and rolled back into Rebel.
She moved then, making a little noise in the back of her throat and shifting against him.
He cocked a leg into hers, giving her some weight at her back to keep her where he wanted her, and pressed his morning hard-on to her ass.
She wriggled into it.