"I shouldn't have said that," he says, shaking his head. "Your father wouldn't like it."
There it is. My father. Even when he's not here, he's present—a phantom presence creating a barrier between me and what I want.
"Do you always do what my father wants?" I ask, a challenging edge to my voice. "Never cross the line?"
Wilder's eyes darken as he seems to understand what I'm really asking. "I would if it was for someone worth having."
"And what do you think?" I whisper. "Am I worth having?"
He crosses the kitchen in two strides, lifting me by my thighs and setting me on the kitchen counter. His mouth crashes against mine, hungry and demanding. He tastes like coffee, his lips surprisingly soft despite the fierce pressure.
I've never been kissed like this before, like I'm oxygen and he's drowning, like the world might end at any moment, and this is our last chance.
My hands find his broad shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath his t-shirt. I pull him closer, opening to him as histongue slides against mine. A small sound escapes me—half sigh, half moan—and it seems to fuel his hunger.
When he finally breaks the kiss, we're both gasping for air. His forehead rests against mine for a heartbeat before he steps back abruptly, running a hand through his hair.
"Fuck," he mutters, pacing the small kitchen. "I shouldn't have done that. I need to focus on protecting you and Evelyn. I can't be distracted..."
I slide off the counter and walk to him, placing my hands on his chest to stop his pacing. "Maybe you're doing exactly what you should be. Keeping me distracted."
He looks down at me, his eyes squinted. "You don't get it, Emma. I want you. If I start kissing you again, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop myself. I'll fuck you right here, right now."
My inner thighs clench, my panties suddenly damp with want. There's something intoxicating about making this dangerous man lose his composure.
"Maybe that's what I want," I tell him, my voice steadier than I feel. "Maybe I'm crazy, but I want your hands on me. I want you to take me, claim me. I know it's forbidden, but that only makes me want it more."
A surprised laugh escapes him. "You really are a biker's daughter," he says, shaking his head. Then his expression sobers. "I won't hide this from your father. If he kills me afterward... well, I better make this moment memorable."
I drag my tongue across his lips, teasing. "Please do."
His hands find my ass, rough fingers squeezing the flesh through my jeans. The pressure is just short of painful, and I love it. It's like he's awakened a darker part of me that's been hiding and waiting for permission to emerge.
"I've wanted to do this since I first saw you at that train station," he whispers against my ear, his breath hot on my skin.
"I wanted to suck your cock in the car after you saved me," I admit, surprising myself with my boldness.
A wicked smile spreads across his face. "Be a good girl and get on your knees now."
I obey without hesitation, sinking to my knees on the hard kitchen floor. My fingers work at his belt buckle, then the button of his jeans, lowering them along with his dark briefs. His cock springs free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening.
I wrap my hand around his length, feeling it pulse against my palm. Starting slowly, I extend my tongue and circle the head, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum. Above me, Wilder grips the counter edge, his jaw tight as he watches me through hooded eyes.
Opening wider, I take him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to accommodate his size. He groans as I work him deeper, until he hits the back of my throat. I gag slightly but don't pull back, loving the feeling of him filling my mouth completely.
"Fuck," he hisses, his hips beginning to move in shallow thrusts. "Your mouth feels so good."
I bob my head, establishing a rhythm that has him cursing under his breath. Saliva drips from the corners of my mouth, wetting my shirt, but I don't care. All that matters is this moment, the taste of him, the sounds he makes as I worship his cock.
His hand tangles in my hair, gripping firmly but not painfully. "You're doing so well," he praises. "Such a good girl. You deserve a reward."
I pull back, looking up at him with what I know must be swollen lips. "What kind of reward?"
He gestures for me to stand, which I do gratefully, my knees aching from the hard floor. Before I can say anything else, he spins me around to face the counter, his hands moving to the front of my jeans. He unbuttons them swiftly, tugging them down along with my panties until they pool around my ankles.
I feel his hard cock pressing against my bare ass, the heat of him scorching my skin. I want him inside me so badly, but I won't beg. I've never begged for anything in my life.
His fingers slide between my legs, finding me embarrassingly wet. "Already soaked for me," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.
