Aria keeps her body pressed firmly against mine. Every curve in the road pushes her more snugly against my back, and I don’t know if anything in my life has ever felt more perfect than this—me, my bike, my woman, and the open road.
We stop at a secluded spot I discovered years ago. Ducks swim lazily on a small pond nestled among trees ablaze with fall colors. Reds, oranges, and golds from the maples and oaks create a canopy above us as I park the bike.
"It's beautiful," Aria breathes, her eyes wide with wonder.
I spread the blanket on a grassy spot beneath a particularly vibrant maple tree. The air is crisp with the scent of earth, fallen leaves, and the distant smell of woodsmoke.
"Come here." I pat the blanket beside me, and she settles close enough that our shoulders touch.
For a moment, we sit in comfortable silence, watching the ripples on the pond surface as ducks glide across the water. The autumn breeze rustles through the vibrant leaves above us, occasionally sending a red or gold one spiraling down.
"Thank you for bringing me here," she says softly, turning those soulful eyes toward me. "It's perfect."
Without thinking, I respond, “You’re perfect.” And she is.
This woman—broken, battered, yet undefeated—has crawled under my skin in a way no one ever has with her dark curls that dance in the breeze, and her eyes that hold hidden depths.
When I reach out to trace the delicate curve of her jaw, she leans into my touch like a flower seeking sunlight.
She bites her lower lip, looking up at me through those thick lashes, and something inside me snaps. I cup the back of her neck, pulling her to me, and claiming her mouth with mine. Sheresponds immediately, her lips parting on a gasp that I swallow eagerly.
It starts slow—a languid exploration, my tongue stroking against hers as I savor the taste of her. My free hand finds her waist, drawing her closer until she's half in my lap, her body angled toward mine.
Christ, I want her so badly I can barely form coherent thoughts. Her fingers dig into my biceps, telling me she wants this as much as I do.
That's all the encouragement I need. I deepen the kiss, one hand sliding up to cup her breast. She arches into my palm, silently begging for more.
She moans into my mouth, the sound shooting straight to my cock, which is already straining painfully against my zipper.
"You're so goddamn beautiful," I growl, trailing kisses down her neck as my thumb brushes across her nipple, feeling it harden beneath the fabric of the t-shirt. "Been wanting to fuck you since I first saw you."
Her breathing quickens as I gently ease her onto her back on the blanket, following her down to hover above her. Fallen leaves create a halo of autumn fire around her dark hair on the blanket. I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
I tug at the knotted hem of her shirt. "Can I see you, little sparrow?"
She nods, eyes wide with trust and desire as I untie the knot and slide my hand beneath the fabric. Her skin is warm silk under my calloused fingers. I push the shirt up slowly as she watches me with those huge eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
When I expose her simple cotton bra, I have to bite back a groan. Even this practical, modest garment looks sexy as hell on my woman. I press my lips to the swell of her breast above the cotton, feeling her shiver beneath me.
"Hawk," she sighs, her hands finding their way into my hair, threading through my mohawk.
I reach behind her, unclasping her bra with practiced ease, then draw both shirt and bra up to expose her perfect breasts. Her nipples pucker from the slight chill.
"God, look at you," I breathe, reverence in my voice. She blushes but doesn't try to cover herself, her trust in me sending a surge of protective possessiveness through my veins. "So fucking perfect."
I lower my head, taking one dusky peak into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tight bud. Her back arches off the blanket, a startled moan escaping her lips.
"Oh!" she gasps, the sound so innocently surprised it nearly undoes me.
I lavish attention on both breasts, alternating between gentle suction and flicks of my tongue until her hips wiggle under me and she’s making little whimpering sounds that drive me wild. When I slip my hand down to unbutton her jeans, I pause, my eyes drawn to her torso. The mottled bruises there almost make me lose it. And I have to take several deep breaths to calm myself.
Her eyes flutter open, glazed with desire. “Please,” she whispers. "Please, Hawk, I want more.”
I slide my hand inside her jeans, beneath her panties, finding her juicy pussy wet and ready for me. The discovery makes me groan with pure male satisfaction. My finger slides through her slick folds, and her hips buck against my hand.
“Hawk,” my name slides from her lips on a whisper. “I…I… This is my first time.”
I pause for a moment as I try to make sense of her words. She can’t be serious. Can she?
