Page 47 of Riding Free

The backs of his fingers gently glide along my belly, dipping just beneath the waistband of my shorts. I can’t stop my muscles from contracting at his touch. Anticipation rolls throughout my entire body.

Then he pops the button of my shorts before he glides the zipper down, shifting his gaze from my breasts to meet mine again. I grip his biceps, holding on to him to keep from melting into a huge pile of goo at his feet.

My thighs tremble, my knees practically knock together, and my heart races. I want him so damn badly, and he’s moving so freaking slowly. Thankfully, finally, he shoves my shorts and panties down my thighs to pool at my feet.

For a fleeting moment, I feel a bit self-conscious because he’s fully dressed while I’m naked as the day I was born, but then he lowers his head, and all that vanishes the moment he wraps his lips around my breast and sucks.

Brock’s tongue swirls my nipple, his hands gripping my waist as I arch my back to be closer to him. I want him to take all of me. He moans against me there, and then I feel one of his hands leave my waist and dip between my legs.

Two fingers fill me with ease, curling inside me as he moans again. When he releases my breast, it’s with a pop, and then his mouth moves across my body, between my breasts and over to the other one, but he doesn’t taste me there, not yet.

“You’re wet and ready, aren’t you, Keely?” His voice is deep and smooth like aged whiskey.

I’m so wet. And so damn ready.

I moan, my words not finding their way out of my throat. They’re stuck there. I’m stuck, too, unsure of what to do or say. And even if I knew how to say something sexy, I can’t make myself speak. I am overwhelmed with need.

His lips wrap around my nipple, his teeth gently sinking into the tender flesh of my breast, and then his tongue begins to swirl there, and at the same time, I feel his fingers move inside me, his palm grinding against my clit, and my mind turns to mush.

My entire body is on alert. Ready for more, ready to feel the way that only he can make me feel. I want it, crave it, actually. My hips roll, and my back arches so much that it aches, but it’s worth it. Any amount of pain is worth the pleasure Hound is giving me.

When his mouth leaves my breast, his fingers slip from inside me as well, and I mourn the sensation, but not for long. Without another word, he picks me up and places me on the bed.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands as he shrugs his leather vest off.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I look at him. He grabs hold of his shirt between his shoulders, then tears it from his body in one swift move, and that right there is sexy as shit. My legs almost fall open at that sight alone.

Then he pops his jeans, his eyes flicking to meet mine, his dark gaze holding me hostage. I watch as his eyes glitter, then I hear the teeth of his zipper parting as it slowly comes down, and I want to look, but I’m too frozen by his intense stare.

I run my tongue along my bottom lip, wetting it, as he shifts and moves, but I don’t look anywhere but into those eyes. They own me, one hundred percent, and that’s when I realize he’s right.

I’m his.

Brock sinks one knee into the bed by my feet, then the other. His fingers encircle my ankles before he gently guides my legs apart. I gasp because it’s been a while since he’s seen any of that part of me… like a year and a baby ago. But if he thinks something is different, he makes not a single mention of it.

Instead, he moves toward me, slowly, then he bends, and his face is right there.

Right. There.

And his mouth.

My god. His mouth.

So delicious.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

HOUND

I need to taste her cum. I’ve got it committed to memory, but that’s not good enough. I need it on my tongue. She whimpers. Sliding my tongue along her pussy, I circle her already swollen clit before I flick it.

I repeat the move once, twice, three times before I hear her gasp, then her hands are in my hair, gripping me there, tugging and making my scalp burn in the absolute best possible way. Shifting my gaze up her body, I look at her face.

She’s still propped on her elbows, her chin tipped down to look at me. Our gazes connect, and that’s when I slip two fingers inside her wet cunt. Curling them, I make a come-hither motion, moving quickly as I bring her closer and closer toward the edge, my tongue still very much focused on her clit.

It doesn’t take long.