My fingers are clumsy, trembling as I fumble with my shirt, pulling it over my head in a frantic rush. If my skin wasn’t already prickling with anticipation, it is now. The air feels cooler, a stark contrast to the fever burning beneath my skin. I shove my shorts and underwear down in one frantic motion, groaning at the way the fabric peels away
Just as I’m kicking the outfit to the side, I hear that same low-throaty growl in the distance. Lifting my eyes, Ghost has returned with a blanket in hand. Instead of making use of it, he takes a moment to drink in my bare appearance.
“You’re sure you want me, Eliza?” He shakes his head. “I’ve got pieces missing, damage done deeper than what you see on the surface. All while you’re… perfect.”
“I couldn’t want anyone else.” Admitting the truth, I take a few steps toward him on weak legs. “I won’t meet anyone else who will make me feel this way.”
His mouth curves at my truth, and he spills the blanket on the ground before I can reach him. Reaching behind him, he tugs off his shirt and reveals a body engraved with muscles and scars. Sure, he’s not as impressive as some of the other bikers, but one look at him is what gets my mouth watering.
“Haven’t done anything like this in a long time.” He mutters the words as he looks down at his prosthetic. “Haven’t wanted to in my current state. It might be awkward.”
Reaching him, my hands find the band of his shorts, and I try not to grow distracted by his cock again. “We’ll figure it out.”
When it comes to sex, my experience is what’s holding me back. I don’t exactly know what I’m doing either. Even if it’s a stumble the entire time, if it’s with him, then that’s enough of a reason to take one step at a time.
Helping him peel off his shorts and briefs, I take a moment to enjoy the view, too. Even more when he carefully gets to the floor. As he sits down, he reaches out for me, and I step forward without a thought.
“I want to taste you too.” Breathing out the words, he squeezes my thigh right where my skin is slick. Inhaling deeply, he groans. “You can do whatever you want if you give me that much.”
Nodding my head, he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and groans. Muttering something about me being unreal, he lies back against the blanket and tells me what to do. Before I know it, I’m straddling his chest, worried I’m going to make it hard for him to breathe.
Instead of complaining, he hooks his arms around my thighs and pulls me right where he wants me to be, right against his mouth.
My body immediately arches from the heat of his tongue. It’s a flat, purposeful stroke that coaxes a broken sound from my throat.
His entire body immediately vibrates, his satisfaction rolling through him in a wave.
I remember my own task, fumbling for a moment before my fingers finally close around the base of his cock. He’s thick and heavy in my hand, the skin hot enough to burn.
My focus shifts as his tongue finds a perfect, torturous rhythm. He licks into me like I’m his last meal, groaning against me as if I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.
“So fucking sweet,” he rasps, the vibration singing through my entire body.
I try to reciprocate, I really do. I lower my head, my hair brushing his stomach as I take the tip of him into my mouth, tasting what’s been seeping from him. He has his own salty flavor that leaves me moaning around the start of him.
Exploring the shape of him, the smooth head, the prominent vein, I map him with a curiosity that feels both innocent and deeply wicked. He groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through my very bones, and the power of it—the power I have to pull that sound from him—is a dizzying high.
I take him deeper, wanting more of that sound, more of this feeling. I can only manage halfway before I feel him nudge the sensitive, constricting back of my throat. My eyes water instinctively, a reflexive gasp caught in my chest. The sensation is overwhelming—the slight, impossible tickle of him there, a place no one has ever been before.
But then his fingers join his tongue, one, then two, stretching me with a slow, burning pressure that makes my hips rock helplessly against his face to get more of such an addicting friction.
A ragged moan escapes me, my concentration completely undone by the dual sensations. My mouth goes slack around him, my body moving on its own accord, riding his hand and his tongue in a rhythm I can’t control.
Pulling back, my body arches as his lips wrap around my clit. The next cry to leave my lips leaves my throat sore as my insides clench.
I’ve forgotten my part entirely, lost in the pleasure he’s giving me. But he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, he encourages the movement through muffled words.
It’s all too much. A coil of pure, white-hot tension winds tighter and tighter in my gut, a spring ready to snap. My thighs begin to quiver, a frantic tremor I can’t suppress, pressing against the solid wall of his shoulders. A broken, pleading sound is the only warning I can give before my vision goes completely white, searing away every coherent thought.
I fall apart into pieces. The release is a tidal wave, crashing through me, wringing a choked sob from my lungs. My bodyconvulses around his fingers, and I am experiencing nothing but a raw, unraveling sensation.
When I can finally draw a breath, the world swims back into focus. He is looking up at me, his jaw glistening, his forest green eyes filled with desire, his pupils blown full enough to eat up the irises. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the inside of my trembling thigh, and the gentleness of it after such an intense climax makes my heart ache.
“I’m sorry,” I pant, the words airy and weak. “I… I didn’t… you didn’t get…”
A smile curves his lips. He carefully helps me off of him, his hands steadying my boneless body as I slump to the side. He sits up, and the sight of him, flushed and breathless, has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he says, his voice soft, but firm.
