Page 99 of Kylo
Her body shifted slightly. Then her hand was around my cock, stroking down the length, and dragging a ragged curse out of me.
Her head lifted, gaze finding mine, her eyes as needy as I felt.
There was no more hesitation then, just hands roaming, teasing, twisting.
My lips were on hers, hard, hungry, borderline bruising. But she kissed me back just as hard.
I broke away and dropped down to my knees.
I pulled one of her legs over my shoulder and flicked, circled, sucked. Until she was writhing against me, until her moans were filling the room.
I reached out of the shower, digging around in my pants for my wallet, then the condom within.
When I got back to my feet, I protected us before grabbing her leg again, pinning it against the wall, then sliding deep inside of her.
I wanted to take my time, to savor this, but her hands were grabbing my ass, her hips were rocking against me, and her little moans ripped away what was left of my control.
“Fuck, baby,” I growled as her walls tightened around me, threatening to take me with her as she came.
“Kylo,” she gasped, body tensing. “I’m gonna…”
Then she was, her pussy tightening around me as she cried out.
I fucked her through it, but had no control left to take her to another as I slammed deep and came with her.
It wasn’t just Rue who was shaky and breathless afterward.
I angled her chin up and sealed my lips over hers again. Softer. Unhurried.
Until the hot water ran out, blasting us with frigid water that had Rue squealing and rushing out.
I reached to turn off the tap, a smile on my lips as she wrapped a towel around herself.
I cleaned up, dried off, then followed her out into the bedroom where I found (with a small tug of disappointment) that she’d already pulled on a pair of biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt.
“Damn,” she grumbled, digging through the duffle.
“What’d you forget?”
“A brush.”
“Lucky for you, I have hair,” I said, walking back into the bathroom to grab my brush and hand it off. “See something you like?” I asked, a cocky smirk tugging at my lips, until I saw the way her brows were pinched.
“What is that?” she asked, voice tight as she looked at my stomach.
I followed her gaze, seeing the old, pink, round scar there.
I couldn’t lie to her.
“Bullet wound,” I admitted. “Happened a long time ago. Before I joined the club. Got myself into some shit. Some guys tied me to a chair and… yeah. The bullet wasn’t even the worst of it,” I said. “Though I don’t think Siana would agree. She’d been white from all the blood loss.”
“Siana. Your old neighbor.”
“Yeah, she saved my life. I was at death’s door when she came in to put some pressure on some of the wounds. Even so, barely made it.”
“Is that why you joined the club?” she asked, glancing back up at me with misty eyes for an injury I barely thought aboutanymore. “Because you had no one to help you when you needed it?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
