Page 46 of The Biker and the Baker
“Good.” He clicks on the Food Network. “’Cause we’re about to binge the hell out of it.”
He offers me a Twizzler and I snake my hand out from under the covers to take it. “Awesome. It’s shaping up to be a good night then.”
“Thought it was already a good night when I had my face between your legs, no?”
Oh, sweet savior. My clit pulses at the memory. Why did he have to remind me?
“Hardly,” I fib.
His eyes dance with amusement as he bites off a piece of his Twizzler. “Sure, Sweet P.”
I’m a liar and he knows it.
And for that, I hate his ass.
Yep, I just lied about that, too.
Chapter 11
Pia
I awaken tothe rousing sensation of soft, warm kisses on my neck. At first, I’m confused, but then memories of the night before rush in, reminding me of where I am, and with whom.
He’s behind me, up against me, so close that his hardness is a contending force digging into the flesh of my ass. His lips and teeth drag along the side of my neck.
Wide awake now and burning with need, I push back against his hardness.
Last night, nothing sexual happened. We shared Twizzlers and binge-watched Chopped, betting against each other on who we thought would get chopped. Somewhere along the line, we fell asleep.
A nice ‘sort of’ date night, which I didn’t realize I needed.
Now it’s the morning after and my body is needing something else entirely. The nerves I felt last night are nonexistent now. I’m randy, rapacious. Down for whatever. D.T.F. And I’m not shy about it.
So he knows I’m wide awake andall in,I push back against him, inviting. No talk, no fight.
From behind, his fingers wrap around my throat, and he bites at my earlobe, pressing up against me, sending electrifying shivers through me, igniting me.
Reaching around, I force my hand between us to take a hold of his erection in his sweats. He’s so damn hard, it’s like a steel pipe. As I rub and squeeze him, my breath trips and quickens, my pulse pounding with excitement.Oh, to have this inside me…
His hand drifts down from my neck to cup and squeeze one of my breasts. The towel I fell asleep in had unraveled sometime throughout the night, so I’m stark naked under the comforter with him, a thick coat of arousal between my thighs, eager and quivering for him.
Greedily, I wrestle him out of his sweats, exhaling satisfactorily when I feel his warmth in my hand. I explore. He’s got girth, length, and strength.
Shit, yes.
When his hand drifts from my breasts down to my stomach…to my pelvis…to between my legs, I part for him like a clam. He indulges, rubbing and massaging my clit, building me up, his fingers slippery from my gushing arousal.
“I want you…” I gasp out as he seizes my clit between his thumb and forefinger and squeezes gently. “Inside me.”
“I know,” he whispers hoarsely against my neck. “Be patient.”
“No,” I hiss out, “I’m about to come.Please, I don’t want to come without you in me this time.”
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re killing me.”
Still, he doesn’t stop working his finger magic on me. I’m so close…so close.
“Onyx!” I hiss, high on pleasure and pissed at the same time. It’s a heady combination.
