Page 23 of The Biker and the Professor
“Yes.”
“I can’t mess around with you if you’re sleeping with other women.”
“No one else,” he refutes. “Just you.”
Don’t fall for it, Toni. He’s a player, a user, a caveman biker. This is what he does!
“Lie,” I hiss. “What about the girl you were with downstairs?”
“No one else,” he repeats. “Just you.”
“I don’t believe you…”
Yet, my body begs to let him play me, let him use me.
He runs his nose across my cheek. “Wanted to see you, be with you. Went by your house and you weren’t there. Came back and there you are, in Scratch’s face, his hands on you. Forgive me, but…”— He lifts his head to look at me — “you’re mine and mine alone. Don’t wanna share you with anyone from the club, not even Cookie. That’s why I’m pissed. She shouldn’t have brought you here.”
Unable to help it, I reach up and touch his face. “She said I wouldn’t see you because you would be at this bonfire party tonight. And I wanted to see you.”
“She was wrong.” He shakes his head. “Thought about being between your legs, your taste on my lips, your mouth on me, all day today. Nothing was gonna stop me from seeing you.”
WelpThat’s what I get for listening to my pushy, inquisitive neighbor.
“What was the plan?” he asks, a sly grin on his lips. “What did you hope to do when you saw me?”
Heat races to my cheeks, but I don’t break his stare. “Beg you.”
His stare grows hot, lidded, his erection digging into my belly. “Beg me to…?”
Wetting my lips, I clothe my nervous voice in sultry boldness and whisper, “Totakeme.”
Without warning, he crushes his mouth to mine and sweeps us up into a whirlwind. I lock my arms around his neck and kiss him with the same fierceness he kisses me, ignoring the nagging voice in my head that’s telling me to run.
Breaking apart, he draws back until he’s off me and on his feet. He doffs his vest and t-shirt, then his boots and jeans, his eyes on me the entire time. When his thumbs curl into the waistband of his boxers, I lick my lips, excited to see more of his perfection. He pulls them down and kicks them aside, and I’m happy because he’s so stinking hot it’s ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
Dropping to his knees, he unzips and removes my suede ankle boots.
Once they’re off, I draw my feet up on the mattress and part them as wide as my skirt will allow me. He follows them with his hands, one on each leg, gliding all the way up and under my skirt, until they find my lace panties.
A grip of lace in each fist, he pulls my panties down and off me.
My hips undulate, my stomach unfurling with deep sexual ache. I’m impatient. So impatient, so hungry.
His hands glide up again, shoving my skirt up to my hips so I can spread my legs wider.
When I do, he crawls up, and then his mouth is on me…sucking me, eating me.
My hips shoot up off the bed as a rush of pleasure fires through me. I reach down and grab his head as I elevate my pelvis into his mouth. He eats me so good. So, so good. And I can already feel the pressure building, rising. But I don’t want to come on his face this time, I want to come around his cock. I want him inside me, and for that, I need to beg.
“Nero,” I gasp out as he flicks his tongue over my clit. “Please, fuck me.”
At that, he slides two fingers inside me and begins pumping in and out, driving me closer and closer to the apogee.
“Please,” I beg, “Please, Nero. Let me feel your cock inside me. Please.”
“Now that’s more like it,” he says, backing off me and off the bed.
As he picks up his jeans and gets a condom from the back pocket, I squeeze my thighs together and writhe against myself. Impatient, excited, sexually possessed.
