Page 99 of Dirty Salvation

It took precisely three minutes of finger fucking to send Zara over that edge again.

And another five and a fresh hastily donned condom to push Rider there with her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“He only needed ten minutes to go again. Had Rider Marinos just become my ideal man?” – Zara

It was Oscar Wilde who said to yield to temptation or forever yearn for the forbidden. And it was Scrooge McDuck who said more is better.

How could anyone truly resist Rider and not go back for seconds and thirds? Zara could ponder on that question for a decade and still not have an answer. He was a tall drink of biker water in a long lean glass with an added bad boy straw she just wanted to slurp on for hours. For weeks, he had broken her resolve, placing himself in such a way she’d began to drop her fear. Or maybe he’d just battered it down.

She didn’t know which.

The longing had become unbearable to the point she had to give herself pep talks 'don't lick his face' 'you can't rub on him like a cat in heat'

Why she put these restrictions on herself she'd hadn't examined that far, she knew from the look in his eyes whenever they landed on her he had been more than up for … rubbing and licking.

She’d been scared and he still was a dangerous man.

The only guy she'd wanted from the moment she'd seen him, that instant electric attraction, had wanted for forever afterwards, it seemed as so, the only sexual experience she'd enjoyed and the dense moment she realized he wanted something with her again she’d been apprehensive that if they tried to pick up where they left off she would be launched back to the days of theRebelsand recoil instinctively away from Rider's touch.

Fear was a wicked monster clinging to every insecurity, whispering the harshest things.

And salvation could also bedirty.

It was better not to have then to be afraid of thecould be'sshe’d told herself all the while keeping him at arm's length and yet using him for his uncompromising protection. She'd passed the previous days growing stronger understanding Rider watched her not only to keep her safe but for something altogether more personal and carnal, her mind whirred through its normal cycle of guilt and self-loathing even as she was as intrigued by him in return, coloring her thoughts in shades of black.

Circling each other like animals.

With one kiss Rider, had knocked her resigned undertaking on its bony ass and now she lay under him panting out of breath, her heart pounding behind her ribcage, pleasure so acute she was still feeling it through her system minutes later as she tried to grab onto any sane thought.

The man knew sex.Wow.

Jesus, who knew good sex could make a woman lose her mind? If Zara ever caught her breath again she was going to patent whatever voodoo sexy magic Rider was playing with because he’d reached inside and took every insecurity she had until all she craved was him in this naked sweaty form drenched in their pleasure.

It had been impossible to get away from her own darkness. Or so she thought.

Here she was basking in the light of a beautiful bad man.

Rider had taken it all, every secret corner of her broken being, and burned it down into the hottest passion.

Her skin sizzled.

She felt ...glorious.

Moaning, her body undulated up into him, luxuriating in the sensation of her gratitude.

God, how grateful she was to this man.

Zara was gratefulandorgasming.

"Oh god. Ambrosio... I can't ..." She went taut all over. Of course, she could, he made sure of it as his laugh, so deep and naughty, tumbled against her neck, his fingers driving inside her one last time sending her spiraling into orbit.

Foreplay. Afterplay. The biker knew it all.

She managed to kiss his shoulder, the closest body part to her before she lay there dead and shaking.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, Zara. So fuckin’ wet all tight grabbin’ onto me. I want inside you again badly. Need to feel you around me. Need you like this all the time, baby.” His tone was a dirty promise, leaving her mind behind as her body took over.