Page 33 of My Enemy Biker

"I don't want careful."

"Good." One finger traces along my jaw. "Because I'm going to make you forget every man who touched you before me."

The arrogance should irritate me. Instead I pull my shirt off and drop it on the floor.

His eyes go dark. Fixed on my breasts in the black bra, and I watch his control start cracking.

I reach back, unhook it. Let it fall.

"Christ." The word comes out strangled. He's staring at my breasts like he's witnessing something religious. "You're—"

"If you say beautiful I'm getting dressed."

"Was going to say you're exactly what I've wanted. Real. Soft everywhere. So fucking perfect I can't think straight."

His hands come to my waist, slide up slowly over my ribs.

When he reaches my breasts he cups them like he's learning the weight, the shape. Thumbs brush over my nipples and I gasp.

"Sensitive." He does it again, watching my face. "That's going to be useful."

I reach for his shirt but he catches my wrists. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to put my mouth on you first."

Before I can respond he dips his head and takes my right nipple into his mouth. Sucks hard enough I arch into him with a sound I can't control. His other hand palms my left breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

I'm already wound so tight I might break. Days of wanting this, of fighting it, of lying awake thinking about his hands on me.

His mouth moves to my other breast while his hand slides down my stomach. Pops the button on my jeans. Slides the zipper down slowly.

"These need to come off," he says against my skin.

"Then take them off."

He drops to his knees in front of me. Looks up and the sight of him there does something to my breathing. His hands grip my jeans and panties together, drag them down my legs.

I step out of them and then I'm completely naked and he's still fully dressed on his knees looking at me like I'm everything.

"Fucking beautiful," he says. "Every inch."

His hands slide up the backs of my thighs, over my ass, pull me closer. Then his mouth is on me and I cry out.

He's not tentative about it. Uses his tongue with precision, finds my clit and circles it while his hands grip my ass to hold me steady. I'm already so worked up it takes less than a minute before I'm shaking.

"Cain—"

"Come on my tongue," he says against me. "Want to taste you."

Two fingers slide inside me while his mouth works my clit and I shatter. Grab his shoulders to stay upright while I come harder than I've come in years.

He works me through it, doesn't stop until I'm pushing weakly at his head because it's too much.

He stands, and his mouth is wet, his eyes absolutely black with want.

"Get on the bed."