Page 97 of Filthy Love

“Do I need to tattoo your forehead with how much I want you, Hawk? God. Just put your mouth on me already before I want to kick your rock-hard ass.”

He chuckled.

“Okay, bossy.” He gave her one, long lap that caused her back to nearly break in half.

One lap from the flat of his tongue and Hawk brought his body back up towards her head. Her couch wasn’t made to be slept on. It was one of those designer pieces you’d see in aCrate and Barrelstore front window. Thin silver legs and a low back and cushions that enveloped your butt. It certainly wasn’t designed with Hawk in mind crushing her into the padding. But oh, it felt good.

Before she could protest he took her lips again. When his next assault came it was his hand sliding down her undulating belly, spearing two long fingers inside her at the same time the knuckle on his thumb grazed against her swollen clit.

“Oh, god.” She cried into his mouth. Her sex throbbed a heavy, solid thrum making her shudder through a series of convulsions coinciding with the in and out of his fingers.

“Asking him for help, little girl?” The pounding never let up. Her eyes hazed out everything but him as she listened to her own wetness coating his hand. She was desperate to swallow, her mouth parched, but every drop of moisture she had in her body was dripping into Hawk’s hand.

Their breaths mingled and when she fisted a hand in the back of his hair he let her angle his head down. Even in passion he still looked like he could literally and easily kill someone with his bare hands. She swallowed a giggle.

“Tell your god to make the monster leave you alone before he consumes everything you have to give and there’s nothing left.” Hawk gave her a bite. Almost vicious as he tugged her lower lip and sucked on it like it was a hard, cinnamon candy, licking the hurt away straight after. Not that she was complaining, it felt insanely good.

“Stop calling yourself a—oh, god! Hawk, please!”

“Not rushing this time, I want to savor your cries, make them last ‘cause they’ll carry me over.” He did this by kissing her again, swallowing her noises. His fingers working diligently but not fast enough to send her off like a rocket as she wanted. Hawk pushed in a third and stretched his fingers out to the point she thought she might crack right open if he didn’t touch the place she needed. “Need you nice and stretched out, Gia.” He spoke into her neck, kissing and biting.

It was too much sensory overload. She didn’t know whether she was up or down.

“For when I get my nasty-not-worthy dick inside all this wet. So, when I fuck you finally you feel it and know how fucking desperate I am to get to the back of you.” Oh, dear lord. She started humming in tongues, head thrown back, neck elongated, his fingers hard and fast. “Stretching out my little bit of a thing to take a big, nasty cock.” He was trying to scare her off, she caught on to that quickly, but the thing was … his crude words only turned her on. Only made her wetter.

Panting, she dug nails into the nape of his neck. “It’s not fair. You do this and won’t let me touch you in return.”

“I’m not a fair man.” His grunt was otherworldly and so soaked in his lust she was drunk on it. Oh god, how had she never known he’d be this focused, this sexual? “Not a good man, either, but you know that.” In and out. He drove her insane.

“Let me touch you. Let me make you come. God, I want it, Hawk.” All kinds of truths were spilling out of her mouth tonight.

“Not until you’re safe.”

Ugh, he was infuriatingly kind. She’d lost her head and here he was being rational as he was cute.

“Then let me watch you make yourself come.”

Hawk grabbed a breath, raised his head back, piercing both her body with his fingers and his gaze. Twin hits of pleasure she was unable to fight against when he finger-fucked her into a body quaking orgasm she buried into his shoulder, biting down hard.

And even before she’d rallied her breath down to a level that was deemed normal he lifted himself off her and threw himself on the opposite corner, ripping open his belt and zipper.

Her poor couch groaned under the body of a biker god.

******

She proved how bossy she really was when Hawk watched Gia scramble up to her knees, unabashed about being half naked, her lips swollen from his too-rough kissing, tits heaving under the cotton of her top and her juices coating the inside her spread thighs, pleasure he’d given to her. He could still feel her shaking on his fingertips. A hot vibration that gushed all her bliss down his hand. Like the nasty bastard he was, he stopped with his zipper now he’d given breathing room to his dick, and he pushed those wet fingers into his mouth, sucking her off them loudly.

Gia whimpered, turning pink.

“Get it out, I want to see.” She ordered. Her voice smoke and husk and her little girl eyes lowered to a hazy half-mast. He’d always had the ability to look at her briefly and take in every feature without it appearing like he was a dirty pervert eyeballing a too young baby. Some of that residue of his self-reproach still lingered even though she was grown now and more than willing to take his nastiness into her body if he was willing.

Hawk was so willing he was hurting but he had to keep that last shred of decency. He’d been with too many bodies over the years and hadn’t cared if they carried the bubonic plague. He figured if death was gonna take him then it better hurry the hell up.

Now with the promise of goodness right there for the taking, he felt every inch of filth and regret for ever doing what he’d done with faceless bodies.

He hated himself.

And yet it didn’t stop him from reaching into his jeans, grasping the thickness hard enough to make a great shudder rattle through his old bones. “It’s not a pet.” He told her with a lie. His dick was under her spell and only her. Put a leash on it and he’d be her damn pet all she wanted long as she went on looking at the steel pipe in his fist like his dick was the second coming of David Bowie.

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