Page 151 of Masked Sins
He moves faster, groaning against my skin.
I move my hips down to meet him with every thrust, and his breathing changes before his lips are back on mine.
“I’m going to come?—”
A low, supplicant noise escapes his lips, and I gasp when his cock pulses inside me. Hot spikes of cum hit my cervix, and I watch as his jaw slackens, as his eyes flutter, as his nails almost break the skin of my thigh because he’s holding on so tight.
“Orion, I’m?—”
Everything draws up tight inside me, and one swipe of his thumb against my clit sends my orgasm bursting through me.
A crescendo of ecstasy propels through me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. My toes curl inside my pointe shoes, and little pulses of pleasure run through me for over a minute. His breathing steadies, and when he pulls back, he looks disoriented.
His heart beats erratically against my chest, our bodies fused by my legs tightly wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t pull out, but instead, he continues kissing me. After a minute, he sets me down, quickly cleaning me with some tissues; running them through my folds and kissing me as he goes.
And other than being a little more rumpled than normal from discarding it onto the floor a few minutes ago, the custom-made costume is fine, so I hang it up for dry-cleaning, removing my pointe shoes and ripped tights.
Then Orion helps me into my underwear, sweatpants, and sweatshirt.
I place the tiara on the vanity—only a small piece broke off the band, so I hope it’s an easy fix—and scribble an apology to the seamstress. By the time I grab my things to leave, Orion has his helmet in his arms and his other hand out for me.
Five minutes later, he hands me the helmet he’s been carrying and unlocks his from under the bike seat.
I stand straighter, surprised, and more uncertain than ever. “I drove here?—”
“We can come get your car tomorrow.” I stare at him, tongue-tied, and he sighs. “Put the helmet on, Layla.”
I reach out for the helmet and inspect it. “How?”
He chuckles. “Put it on like a hat. I’ll make sure it’s tight.”
I hold it over my head and lower it down, and everything is suddenly muffled. Orion takes a step closer and flips the visorup, smirking as he turns some dial near the base of my neck until it fits snugly on my skull.
“There.”
He removes his leather jacket and hands it to me. “Wear this. For protection, but also so you don’t get cold.”
I arch a brow when I take in his gray T-shirt. “Won’t you be cold?”
He pops his helmet on, andmy God…he’s truly a work of art with that biker helmet and tattoos on display. “No, I’ll have my girl wrapped around me like a koala.”
My girl.
I’m grinning by the time he lifts one leg over the bike, and after I zip his leather jacket up over the top half of my body, he helps me on behind him. My thighs squeeze his hips from behind, and I wrap my arms around his chest.
“Hold on,” he says, voice muffled.
I squeal as we move forward, as the lights of Los Angeles pass us by. At every traffic light, he reaches a hand out to my thigh and rubs it, a nonverbal gesture to make sure I’m okay.
I can’t stop laughing as we merge onto the freeway, and though he’s very safe, it still feels like we’re breaking rules to be riding out in the open like this.
I keep my visor open, and the wind against my face is refreshing. I can’t stop smiling the entire way.
Twenty minutes later, I’m too distracted by the motorcycle ride to notice we’re heading to Los Feliz rather than Crestwood. When he pulls off at my exit, I tap on his shoulder once we get to the light. Flipping my visor open, he does the same.
“Where are we going? Is the AC fixed?” I ask, feeling slightly disappointed that I won’t be going home with him tonight.
“It is. He finished a few hours ago.”
