Page 132 of Dirty Salvation

He was a total narcissistic pervert to get off at the sight of their wet pleasure coating the inside of her thighs, glistening on her pussy lips, a giant sign that he’d come, and come and come all over her. Using two fingers, Rider teased her slit open, coasting up to her tight little hooded clit, swollen from all his attention, she convulsed and relaxed into the couch letting go of a languid moan. Within a minute, he had her orgasming for him again.

Lost in a haze of lust.

He’d needed her so badly, a constant ache in his chest.

******

Damn.How was it the biker man touched her and she just goes off like a well-controlled detonated bomb as though her body hadn't already experienced a pond full of orgasms. Nope, seemed her body was ready, willing and more than eager for him any time of day. Every single time she'd had sex with Rider in the last weeks it was the same, his hands and body all over her, she was his to do as he wanted, the dirtier the better, whatever he did she loved and begged for more.

Breathing. Blinking. She was prepared to take him into her body.

Zara was so well sated she couldn't even rouse a hint of embarrassment for the acts they'd just done together. Sticky and sore, she could only smile.Growth, Cathy, see.

Boastful laughter rumbled in his big chest. She poked that massive torso when he collapsed down on top of her before rolling to sit at the side of her. He had a right to his swelled ego, she’d screamed loud enough to alert the police from six towns over.Jeez.

Where Rider and his gorgeous as hell body was concerned, not to mention his cock that drove her insane, she was a weak, weak, famished woman.

And lord, the sex had been insane. Consuming from start to finish beginning with that phone call that had twisted her insides into wicked knots.

She hated to think of the mess they'd made of his couch.

His hand reached out, grabbed her chin gently turning her towards him, kissed her once, twice, so softly her stomach rolled over with heat.

“That was...” she had no adequate words. How did she tell him he’d rocked her world in numbers of multiple?

Sex with Rider was out of this world.

Out into space.

Exceptionally addicting.

Goddamn, if he had a milkshake she'd never leave his yard.

But then he one-upped her. His voice reaching inside her belly this time and coaxing it into a long lovely terrifying spin.

"You've stolen the fuckin' breath out of my soul, Icy. Straight up crazy for you. I hope you know that. Don't ever want you to be scared again, see you frightened again. I will fight enough for the both of us until you trust me with that sweet heart of yours, because we have something worth fightin' for here. Believe I am here no matter what, I will slay all your fuckin' demons, crash through your walls without hesitation. I wantyou. I wantus. Let me fight for us, Zara. Give me that, baby."

Oh. Rider.Emotion rushed into her voice, locked her throat up. He couldn't have said anything more perfect, more meaningful to what she needed to hear.

"Yes. Always yes. Rider… you leave me speechless." It was always a yes for Rider. Her answer was a croak. Face buried in his neck, his hand came up and circled her nape, stroking his thumb, keeping her against his side, nowhere else she wanted to be.

Right here with Rider.

Perfect.

This feeling good thing he was pumping out of his pores was contagious as hell. She wanted to keep on feeling it.

Lazily kissing Rider on the couch, recovering the fuck fest he'd rightly warned her of, was anything more perfect than this moment?

She wanted to kiss him forever.

To have those wicked lips take hers roughly, completely, until she could erase every bad decision and mistake that had made her hate herself. She wanted him to steal her breath in the same way he took her soul three years ago.

Make me yours.

Own me.

She yearned for him to fucking own her body and soul.