When he spoke, her belly bottomed out, falling to her feet.
Desire was a heady feeling and Zara was getting drunk on it.
On him.
If Zara trembled because of a man, it had been from alarm. She hadn’t been born to fear, far from it, her life had been unrealistically boring, but she learned within five minutes to fear every last member of the Raging Rebels MC. It had been a long damn time that tremble had been with passion.
Coincidentally the last time was for Rider.
The big bad biker man was playing with magic voodoo. She was certain of it. How else would he be turning her inside out?
Rebooting her Bios.
The very air around them crackled.
Her breath synced up with his.
In. Out. Fast in. Fast out.
Her breathing became a staggered moan when he withdrew his fingers and then he did somethingsodirty she was on the verge of a fresh climax as he used that same long finger to draw over her lips, painting her in her own pleasure.
"Taste how sexy your orgasm was." he rumbled.
Her tongue flicked out doing as he asked, it felt wickedly bad, she watched his eyes flare, his head came down to hers, his lips were strong and warm, inviting when he tempted hers open, silently commanding she do the same for him.
As easy as the air that stuttered in her chest, Zara did as he wanted and let her lips go soft, permitting his tongue to stroke inside alongside hers, causing a rush of heat in all her nerve endings.
Oh god. “I love how you kiss me”. Greedy for more.
He was expert at kissing, he could give lessons, charge the big bucks and leave women ruined on the floor craving his tongue back in their mouth.
Zara exhaled slowly, reached her hand up to his jaw keeping their lips together just a little longer. The intoxicating feeling of that rush of desire filled her to the brim, made her a little sea-drunk, his hand anchored her hip, reminding her that he had her, he wasn't letting her fall into her own self-destruct abyss.
Stay away. She warned the badness camped out in her head.Just let me have this for a moment with Rider. She had been part of the one percent of the population who believed in fate and destiny at a point like any young girl with hopes and dreams of the Disney happily ever after until the foolish notion was beaten out of her. Bad things happened to good people and that was just life.
Now she believed in kissing Rider.
In kissing him for a long time until her lungs screamed for air and her lips were red and numb from overuse.
His groan vibrated against her mouth, both hands fixed tighter to her neck and hip, drawing her closer if that was possible. She helped by smashing her belly against his crotch. When he rolled a condom down his impressive length she watched practically licking her lips. Actually, she did lick her lips. Her whole body quivered with anticipation.
He was a drug, and she needed a fix, a huge fix.
Averylengthy fix.
In.In. He went in and deep.
So deep she near lost the power to breathe and he didn’t stop until she was completely full of him. So tight she stretched around him on a ragged moan leaving her throat.
His hips settled. She gasped and he was home. A naked Rider Marinos, infamous Outlaw president naked and inside her.
This was her Disney World. This was having breakfast with Minnie Mouse.
Oh god. Her neck arched, luxuriating in that sensation.
“Did I slide in too soon? My girl is sore?” She was. He'd used her so well so deliciously hard so far.
She ached for more.