Page 65 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

I shift my weight and bite my lip hard enough to draw blood as her hand trails between her breasts.

I track every single movement as her fingertips ghost over her flushed skin, marking a trail to her nipples that I’m dying to travel.

She rakes her nails over each peak, and then she pinches them, arching her back, her ragged inhale muffled through the helmet.

My cock hardens to steel as she tugs on her nipples before rolling them between her delicate, capable fingers.

Luc exhales like he’s been gut-punched, and I glance at the men beside me to see the agony, need , and worship on their faces.

The camaraderie I feel in knowing I’m not the only one who’s one breath away from losing every ounce of composure I’ve ever had is as surprising as it is welcome .

But it wasn’t like I’ve ever had any composure when it comes to this woman.

Her other hand slips lower across her stomach, and I still as she traces her scars, but she doesn’t falter.

Not for a single breath.

She goes straight for her clit, drawing firm, lazy circles. I memorize the motion, body twitching every time her hips rock forward, chasing friction. I can practically see her smirk as she tortures us, putting on a slow show and wondering how long we’ll last.

I nearly crumble when she moans softly, breathily, the sound desperate and edged enough to spike heat straight down to my straining cock.

And then she pushes her fingers inside, slowly, and God, the sound it makes when she pumps them in and out in filthy, beautiful strokes is something straight from all my dirtiest dreams.

Wet, obscene, and mine.

She whimpers as she slides back up to circle her clit again, faster this time, and my cock twitches in my jeans. Every cell in my body is begging to help, to get my hands on her, my mouth, fucking something .

Luc takes a step forward, and before I can act, Mason grabs his arm, hauling him back. Luc’s whine is pathetic and needy, but I can’t even fault him for it.

That’s exactly how I’d sound if I weren’t still biting my lip.

Alaina’s chest rises and falls with panting breaths, and her thighs tremble, but with the helmet shielding her eyes, all we see is our own twisted hunger reflected at us in the goggles.

Three men teetering on the knife’s edge of control.

But still, none of us moves again, not even Luc.

We’d burn for her if she told us to .

Alaina stills, her moan cutting off midway as she holds herself right on the brink.

And fuck, I nearly whimper at the sight. I don’t know how much longer I can take this.

When I think she’s a second from falling over the edge, I hear my salvation.

“ Finn . Strip.”

I don’t hesitate. Shirt off. Jeans and boxers down, not sparing Luc or Mason a glance as I shuck off my socks.

“Closer,” she commands.

I obey, stepping toward the bed.

She rises to her knees and pulls the helmet off, then crooks a finger at me. I lean in, and she sets it on my head.

It’s jarring, the way the world muffles, but it’s warm, too, and I rebound quickly, raising a brow she can’t see.

“How am I supposed to lick every inch of you with a helmet on?”

“You don’t.” She crawls back on the bed and then grabs the chin guard, dragging me with her. “You fuck me. From behind.”

I follow her eagerly, and the mattress dips under my weight as we settle on our knees, her in front of me like a goddamn dream, and me already too far gone to come back.

I run my hands down her sides to pull her hips closer to me, making her shiver, but then I reach around to cup her tits, and she arches her back, telling me everything I need to know.

She’s squirming, her body speaking in staccato breaths and soft moans, making music I’ve already memorized.

I wanted our first real time after the gondola to be sweet and slow. One of those nights you hold onto for the rest of your life. But this? It’s not the time for making love to her, showing her how much she means to me. Not when she’s like this, when she’s the one setting the tempo .

I know her rhythm better than anyone, on track, in wind, and in blood, and right now, she’s not playing soft.

My cock catches in the curve of her ass as I press in close. “I’m gonna fuck you…” I murmur against her neck, as close as the helmet allows, “… until you forget what your legs are for.”

She lets out a moan of a laugh, and I slide my fingers down to where she’s already soaked and waiting, but before I can do more, she grabs my wrist.

“No touching,” she pants. “Just fuck me.”

Jesus. This girl is going to be the end of me.

In front of us, Luc lets out a low, reverent, “Putain…”

Mason curses under his breath, too, maybe it’s “Bloody hell,” but he says it like a prayer.

With one smooth shift of my hips, I line up with her, but for just a few heartbeats, I shove my desperation aside.

Just to look. To feel everything about this.

This version of her, demanding and a little feral, is possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

My restraint finally snaps, and I push into her.

Her head tips back on my shoulder on a gasp, and I grit my teeth against the surge of sensation.

So damn tight. Wet and perfect.

Just like the first time and every fantasy I’ve ever had of her wrapped around me. I start to move slowly, but after two slow pumps in and out of her, she groans and rolls her hips back into me, urging me to go harder.

I give her what she wants.

Thrust after thrust, I let go of sweet .

Alaina’s body moves like she was made for my cock. Every sound from her lips coils tighter around my entire being, making it harder to hold on, not to end this too soon. Just when I’m at the brink, she whips her head toward Mason, who’s still frozen at the edge of the bed beside Luc .

“Give me your helmet.”

It’s pure demand, and I clench my eyes shut at the sound, curling my toes against my looming orgasm.

I open them just as Mason holds his black helmet out to her, and she slides it onto her head.

My hands indent the skin on her hips as I grip her hard and thrust, only half paying attention as she moves her focus to Luc next.

“Strip him.”

Luc grins like Christmas came early.

Without a shred of hesitation, he steps behind Mason and peels off his jersey and chest guard, revealing dirt-streaked skin. Mason’s muscles twitch as Luc’s hands slide along them, gliding over Mason’s ribs and chest.

Luc unfastens Mason’s pants next, and Alaina nods her approval and then moans as I change my angle, using my thigh muscles to sink a little lower.

A reminder that she’s the one getting fucked, even if her attention keeps drifting to the show.

Luc just hums, clearly pleased with his work, when Mason is completely naked.

“Touch him,” she commands next, voice thick with heat.

Luc chuckles. “With pleasure.”

Mason lets out a low sound when Luc wraps a hand around his dick and starts to stroke him.

I groan, hips stuttering against Alaina. Not because I want what’s happening over there, but because the whole damn scene —her commanding and them obeying while m y cock is deep inside her perfect pussy?

It’s almost too much.

Her fingers dig into my forearm where I’ve wrapped it around her waist, anchoring her to me, while Luc strokes Mason .

“Finn,” she moans, and I clench my teeth to hold back from coming as I thrust even deeper, stealing her focus back from them for a second time and dragging it to me where it belongs.

She rakes her nails across my skin, anywhere she can find, and I know she’s close. I reach down, ready to give her more, but she catches my wrist again, yanking it away with a breathy, “ No touching. ”

I press the side of my helmet against hers with a soft thud, and slow my pace, not even sure what point I’m trying to prove.

“You think you can come just from my cock?” Thrust. “Does it feel that good, baby girl?” Thrust. “The way you’re squeezing me right now, fuck, I know you’re close.

” One more thrust, and this time I stay deep inside her for a long moment, holding her impaled on me.

She whimpers as her body jerks.

“Attagirl.”

I finally pull back out, just to the tip, before thrusting back inside and resuming my furious pace, dragging every sound out of her body. My hand drifts lower again, guided by instinct. “Let me make it even better, huh? Just a little touch?—”

Her answer is nothing but a wrecked moan and a headshake.

No touching.

I’m going to die in this helmet, but what a way to go.

“Stop,” Alaina says suddenly, and I freeze immediately, heart skipping as I start to pull out, but she squeezes my wrist. “Not you, Finn. Delacroix. ”

I haven’t even noticed that he’s still jerking Mason off, or that they even still exist, really. Glancing over, Mason looks like he’s about to combust. Alaina pushes back on me, and I take her lead and start my rhythm up again as Luc’s hand falls away from Mason .

Alaina reaches up and unclasps the helmet she’s wearing and hands it back to Mason without a word.

He takes it, still panting, and puts it on, making him a wall of muscle, tension, and sweat with no face. Entirely bare except for that one piece of armor.

Then she turns to Luc. “Helmet on, pants down, jersey up. Touch yourself, but don’t strip completely.”

Luc grins like a devil as he shoves his pants down, jerks his jersey up over his abs, and slides his helmet into place. His hand wraps around his cock as he makes a show of stroking himself.

“Why don’t you want me to strip, ma Petite ?”

Alaina doesn’t miss a beat. “Because pink looks fucking good on you.”

Luc and Mason laugh, the sound low and muffled.

Alaina’s cheeks are flushed deep pink as she looks back at me, her big brown eyes almost black as her pupils dilate.

Moaning, she looks between us. At them, stroking themselves. Me, buried deep inside her.

And fuck, why is that so hot?

Alaina is completely in control, even as I fuck her hard enough to make the mattress complain.