Page 91 of Ridin’ Dirty

It took us nearly twenty minutes to get home, and I swear I almost came twice—the vibration of his beast of a bike underneath me in tandem with the promise of his bare cock inside of me teasing my swollen clit to the brink.

He didn’t even bother with the garage. After coming to a stop just beside my Mustang, he cut the engine, lowered his kickstand and signaled for me to dismount. My purse was stowed away in his saddle bag, but neither of us moved to grab it after we both found our way to the ground. He took me by the hand and made a B-line for the back door.

Reaper greeted us with a bark, but Pistol didn’t slow down.

“See to you in a minute, Reap.”

Anxious for what I knew was coming, I prayed it would last a lot longer than a minute, but I kept that to myself. We hit the bedroom, he flicked on the light, and the instant we were face to face, no words were necessary.

I freed the tie of my shirt at my back.

He shed his kutte, tossing it onto the bed.

I wiggled out of my skirt, taking my thong with it.

He got rid of his shirt.

By the time my feet were out of my boots and my ankles were free of my clothing, his pants were pooled around his boots. I barely had the chance to straighten before he was reaching for me—one hand hooked under my right armpit, his other reaching behind my left knee. I followed his lead, grabbing hold of his shoulders and spreading my legs as he lifted me with his brute strength. I then found myself pressed up against the wall as he drove his cock inside of me.

I cried out in sheer relief.

He cursed under his breath.

And then we fucked.

We being the operative word.

While he used the wall to help fight gravity, allowing him to grab hold of me on the outside of each of my thighs, I was able to use my leverage on the wall as I gripped around his shoulders to meet him thrust for thrust.

I was so primed, the sound of my wetness coating him as we came together hard and fast turned me on even more. Already incredibly aroused from our joy ride, it didn’t take much for me to unravel with my first orgasm. It was right there waiting, and it was bliss. As I started to climax, I threw my head back, causing a thud as I let go of his shoulder in order to reach for one of my nipples.

“That’a girl,” he grumbled, ramming into me harder. “Touch yourself while I make you come.”

I moaned, still trembling as I abandoned his opposite shoulder to reach for my other nipple. I pinched and tugged, loving the feeling as my pleasure began to taper and transition into something new.

“Damn, this pussy’s soaked.”

“Yeah,” I panted, arching my back away from the wall.

He hit me at a new angle, and my breath caught in excitement.

“What’s got you so hot, huh?”

He smacked the side of my ass, holding on as he looked me right in the eye.

“Never fucked a woman so wet, could feel her drippin’ on my balls.”

I could barely think, let alone speak, the sting of his slap sending a ripple of desire straight through me. There was something about him and the way he handled me—the way he took what he wanted and yet somehow managed to give it right back—that made me putty in his hands.

He slapped my opposite cheek, and my jaw went slack.

Holy hell, I’m gonna come again.

“Answer me, angel,” he demanded.

“You,” I breathed, smoothing a hand down my belly, my fingers reaching for my clit. “It’s just you.”

It was the truth.