Page 58 of Some Like 'Em Burly
“Feels good…”
He puffs out a laugh. “Yeah. It sure fucking does.”
We find our rhythm slowly, our bodies grinding together in the light from the TV screen. It takes a second for it to click in my brain, but once I understand the dance we’re doing… I never want to stop.
Axel grinds the heel of his palm between my legs, catching that little bundle of nerves and making my whole body sing. Meanwhile I pant and squirm and clench down on nothing, and every time my ass rubs over his bulge beneath me, my skin flushes even hotter.
“Please,” I beg, and I don’t even know what I’m asking for, exactly. Only that I need more.
Axel pauses where he’s sucking a bruise against my throat, then speaks against the reddened skin. “Okay, princess. Okay.”
My whole body jolts, electrified, as Axel’s thick middle finger traces a line up my slit. He circles my entrance, still grinding down against me with his palm.
I scrabble at the armchair, then squeeze his forearms for balance. They’re corded and warm, tattoos shifting as his muscles flex.
“Do it,” I pant, and he circles his fingertip again, teasing me. “Oh, god.Please. Do it.”
Axel bites down on my shoulder, holding me steady between his teeth as he presses inside.
Axel
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of this all goddamn afternoon. Not enough to let my guard down, not enough to get distracted and risk Jem’s safety, but as a constant background thing.
How pretty Jem is. How spiky and strong and cute.
What her slender body would feel like pressed against mine.
And how she’d shiver beneath my touch—how she’d widen her thighs for me, letting me closer to that secret heat—
“That’s it.” I lick the bare skin of Jem’s shoulder, soothing where I bit down. She tastes like soap and rainwater, and beneath all that, sweet as toffee. Or maybe that part’s in my mind. “Relax, princess. Let me in. Good girl.”
Her body clutches at my finger, so tight and hot and wet, and it’s like her inner muscles can’t decide whether to suck me deeper or force me back out again. I’m only as far as the second knuckle, and already we’re both shaking as I press inside, my wrist jammed awkwardly between her thighs.
What would she feel like wrapped around my cock instead? Would Jem claw at my shoulders and urge me deeper? Would she moan and thrash and beg for more? Or would it be too much for her?
I’m not a small man. I’m big and brutal all over.
But some instinct deep inside me says Jem could take me. That she wasbuiltfor my cock, just like I was made for her.
“Perfect,” I grit out, hiding a smile in Jem’s hair when she moans, lifting her hips and trying to ride my hand. “You’re so goddamn perfect, Jem, look at you.”
A few more heated words, a hungry kiss beneath her jaw, and then my finger slips deeper inside, pressing as far as it can go. Jem’s body clutches at my digit, her inner muscles rippling with desire.
Christ, it’s hard to think straight when she does that.
In the end, it doesn’t take long. We’re both too keyed up, too on edge, with every single touch feeling electric. Jem rides my hand, crying out until her voice cracks, while I urge her on, thrusting deep with my middle finger while grinding my palm on her clit.
My wrist aches, but I don’t care.
The armchair creaks, but I don’t care.
I’m too hot in my leathers, sweaty and uncomfortable, and I badly need to change, but I Do. Not. Care.
Nothing matters except Jem’s weight in my lap, and her hair tickling my neck, and the shocked sound she makes when stiffens up and comes—like she didn’t expect how this all would end.
The light from the TV screen flickers across our tangled bodies. We sit in silence for a long time, limbs sprawled, breathing hard.
Twenty four hours? I’m not sure I can walk away from this girl.
