Page 49 of Never Distract a Biker

As I drop her gently on my bed, her towel loosens and exposes her nudity like an offering before me.

Just kill me.

21

Scarlett

I can see the conflict in his eyes, a battle between his steely exterior and the raw emotion I sense simmering beneath. He had almost kissed me last night, his lips hovering inches from mine, but something stopped him. I wanted to reach out, to close the distance between us, but I was frozen, unsure if I was ready for the storm that was Viktor.

Now, in the privacy of his bedroom, I am determined to break through his barriers. As he stands there with a clenched jaw, unable to look away from my body, I sit up, my movements graceful despite the urgency I feel. I reach for his hands, my touch gentle yet insistent. I need him to know that I want this and am not afraid of the intensity I see in his eyes.

"I need you," I whisper, my voice hoarse with desire. It is a plea, a declaration, and a surrender all at once. I see his eyes flickerwith surprise, and for a moment, I see a hint of vulnerability in his rugged gaze.

Without a word, he sinks to his knees before me, his strong hands gently grasping my thighs. I feel his warm breath on my core, and my body trembles in anticipation. His mouth, so close to my aching center, sends shivers down my spine. I bit my lip to stifle a moan as he parts my folds with his thumbs, exposing my glistening heat.

His tongue, hot and wet, trace slow circles around my clit, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I arch my back, my hands tangling in his hair, urging him closer. He obliges, his mouth covering me, sucking gently, his tongue flicking and swirling, driving me wild. His fingers join the dance, sliding into my wetness, curling and stroking in perfect rhythm with his mouth.

I feel like my whole body is on fire, my body bucking against his face, my hips moving in time with his relentless assault on my senses. His name escapes my lips in a breathless chant, a mantra of pleasure. "Viktor ... Oh, Viktor ..."

His response is a low growl, the sound vibrating against my sensitive flesh, sending me spiraling further into ecstasy. His fingers quicken their pace, stretching and filling me, hitting all the right spots. My climax builds, an overwhelming wave of sensation, and I cry out, my body convulsing as I come, my juices flowing freely over his tongue.

He didn't stop, continuing to lap at my sensitive flesh, drawing out my pleasure until I was sure I couldn't take any more. Finally, he pulls away, his eyes dark with desire as he gazed up at me. I reached for him, pulling him up to meet my lips in a hungry kiss. I taste myself in his mouth, and it drives me wild.

Viktor broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he whispers, "I want you, Scarlett. All of you."

I didn't need to hear more. I want him, too; I need to feel him inside me, completing the connection that had sparked between us. I pull at his shirt, eager to feel his skin against mine. He indulges me, shedding his clothes with efficient movements, revealing a body sculpted by years of discipline and hidden strength.

He looms over me, his erection straining against his boxers, and I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his thick length. He hisses in a breath, his eyes closing momentarily as he savors the sensation. I stroke him slowly, enjoying the feel of his hardness in my hand and the way his breath hitches with each caress.

"Scarlett," he groaned, his voice thick with need. "I can't wait any longer."

He didn't have to. I spread my legs, inviting him to take what is his. He positions himself at my entrance, the head of his cock nudging my wetness. With one smooth thrust, he fills me, stretching me deliciously. I gasp, my body adjusting to his size, relishing the sensation of being impaled on his hard length.

Viktor begins to move, his hips snapping forward with controlled urgency. Each stroke sends pleasure radiating through my body, hitting places I didn't know existed. His eyes never leave mine, burning with intensity, as if he is willing me to feel everything he is giving me.

"You feel so good," he grunts, his voice hoarse. "So tight ... so wet ..."

I match his rhythm, rising to meet his powerful thrusts, my hands gripping his shoulders, leaving marks I know would linger. I want him to see that I am his, that I crave him as much as he craves me.

Our bodies move as one, a primal dance of desire. I could feel my orgasm building again, a tight coil in my lower belly. Viktor senses it, too; his movements become more frantic, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

"Come for me, Scarlett," he demanded, his voice rough. "Let me feel you come around my cock."

His words are like a match to dry twigs, igniting the flame of my release. I cry out, my body shuddering as waves of pleasure wash over me. Viktor follows, his hips slamming into me one final time as he spills his seed deep within me.

We collapse in a tangle of limbs, our hearts racing and sweat-slick skin glistening in the dim light. He rolls onto his side, pulling me with him, and with my head resting on his chest, I listen to the steady beat of his heart.

"I’ve never felt like this before," he whispers, his fingers tracing patterns on my bare arm.

I smile, content to let the moment linger, knowing this is just the beginning of our story—a story filled with passion, desire, and secrets yet to be uncovered.

We lie there, tangled in a quiet storm of breaths and beats. His chest against my back, Viktor's heart drums a steady rhythm that syncs with mine. I feel every rise and fall of his breath, a silent echo of the chaos we've just weathered together.

"Are you okay?" His voice is a low rumble, vibrations traveling through his chest to my spine.

"More than okay," I whisper back, turning to face him, our noses brushing. The closeness feels like another layer of intimacy that clothes can't shield us from—even if we weren’t wearing any.

The room is still but for the soft rustle of sheets as Viktor shifts. His hand finds its way to my stomach, fingers splaying wide. There's something protective in the gesture, a tenderness that belies the strength in those hands—hands that could command empires and end lives. Yet here they are, gentle as a feather's touch.

---