Page 60 of The Belle and the Biker

He makes good on his promise, tongue, and lips latching on to the swollen button of need between my legs. He’s masterful, licking and rubbing, urging my body into a frenzy of lust and desperate need. He makes me feel wonderful and irresistible, like he’s starving and I’m the most delicious buffet.

His fingers slide into my wet sex, stroking me in and out as he coaxes my body up and up until I shatter, my body slick and trembling, my breath coming so fast I’m afraid my heart will leap from my chest.

But it’s not enough. Never enough.

My finger slips into one of the loops on his waistband and tugs suggestively.

Crash rears off the bed, holding my gaze with a faint challenge in his eyes. I twirl my finger in a “hurry up” motion. His wolfish grin promises me anything but a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.

I swallow, my bravado disintegrating as he slowly unzips his jeans and then pushes them down his legs. My eyes are caught on the—honest to God—biggest phallus I have ever seen in my life. And I mean, I do have access to the internet.

I must have been really, really drunk to have forgotten all of…this. I clear my throat. “My, Grandmother, what big…feet you have. I guess height really is proportional to length.”

I reach out to touch him, unable to help myself, wrapping my hand around his thick shaft. It jumps in my hand.

“Oh, look at that,” I croon. “He’s happy to see me.”

Crash’s manhood swells even bigger, and I lick my bottom lip greedily, wondering how it will feel inside me, how he will taste. Sitting up, I start to lean my head forward when he curses and yanks away from me.

“No,” he says harshly. “No fucking way. I won’t last one minute if you suck me off.”

He’s so crude. I love it and smile up at him to show my approval. “What did you have in mind, then?”

The devil lights up his eyes again, and he pushes me, not too gently, I add, back onto the bed and climbing on after me. Grabbing my thighs, he yanks me toward him.

“Let me show you, baby.”

When he says the word baby, something clicks in my head, along with the fact that his big, bare manhood is ready to plunder.

“Wait!”

He freezes.

“Condoms. Do you have… I didn’t pack anything.”

His expression eases a bit. “You aren’t on the pill?”

I’d let it lapse once I realized I wasn’t interested in any men besides Crash and had thought he wasn’t coming back. There hadn’t seemed to be much point.

“Not right now,” I say. “I haven’t been active in that area since my divorce.”

“Good.” The raw need and possessiveness in his voice makes me shiver. He rises off the bed, and moments later, he’s back, a string of squares packages in his hand.

“Wow. You are very optimistic.”

“I’m clean too,” he says, voice serious. “I always suit up, and I test regularly. Not that I’ve been with anyone since…well, the day I met you. I would never put you in danger.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“It’s okay. We didn’t forget; we just almost forgot.”

“It’s my job to protect you. Even from myself.”

And with those hard words and that unyielding expression of self-recrimination, my heart melts into a puddle of goo.

What a true gentleman.

“Gimme,” I say, snatching the packets from him. I spend the next minute fumbling with the wrapper and then sliding the sleeve over his thick erection.

When I finish, he moves so fast I don’t have time to think. I’m on my back, his hands on my calves as he positions me. I squeal a little, not the most ladylike of sounds. But with my ankles over his shoulders and his eyes blazing in his face, I know I’m in for major trouble.

---