Page 17 of Zeppelin (Satan’s Angels MC #9)

“The second.” I push my hips into his fingers, spearing myself against them another inch.

Lights spark and boom behind my closed eyes.

I jerk against him on impulse, a shockwave rolling through me like I’ve already come and I’m just enjoying the aftershocks.

“Although, maybe a little bit of the first too.” I’m not going to pretend I’m not hot as hell and horny as fuck for this.

His eyes widen, an explosion of liquid dark against shadows. “You’re so pretty and dainty. Who would have guessed you’d have such a filthy streak?”

“If you think that’s filthy, just wait.” I enjoy the slow blink I get as he processes that and the way he has to shake his head to dispel the pink that creeps into his cheeks.

“Is that a promise?”

“Fuck around and find out. Literally.”

“Ginny,” he warns, an edge to his tone like he’s about to be pushed right over a ledge.

Good. I want to find it. I want to shove him off. I want the wild, the untamed, the parts that are just him with nothing to hide behind.

I’m panting, too far gone to stop myself from luring him into temptation beyond anything he can withstand.

I shove the straps of my dress down, my bra along with it.

The air feels even colder against my skin.

I’m burning up inside of my own body. My nipples are already hard peaks, begging to be pinched and teased, suckled and loved.

“Holy shit,” Zeppelin curses crudely. He palms my breast, those rough fingers tracing miraculous patterns over the nipple.

I gasp and whimper, twisting my body to get closer.

I’m half ravaged already, my dress pooling at my waist, wet slicking down my thigh of the leg planted on the floor.

I look like one of those ravaged damsels on the cover of a romance novel, with the ashy hair flowing behind, bodice torn open.

I’m not so discreet. There’s not a bit of me that is hidden from him.

He notches his fingers at my entrance again and this time, he pushes inside all the way. He clamps his mouth over my nipple, working his tongue and fingers in tandem.

I did this to myself.

And now he’s going to freaking kill me here, in the nicest way.

He tears his mouth away from mine, bowing his head to watch what he’s doing like he’s praying.

“Hold your dress to the side. I want to watch my fingers disappearing into this snug pussy as I fuck you.”

I snatch the fabric in a fist and pull it across my belly, over to my hip.

I watch through a haze of pleasure, my whole body heavy as his fingers slip out of me, shiny and glistening, and then push back in.

For the first time, he crooks them up, curling them to hit the spot that makes me squirm at first, but relax into the next few strokes as I get used to the sensation of the extra pressure.

It’s good, but not enough. I want to come apart with his cock notched inside of me.

I trap my dress with my forearm as I reach forward and undo the button of his jeans. He freezes, eyes scanning my face questioningly.

“Were you just planning on getting me off and calling it a day? I don’t approve of suffering in silence.”

“Wouldn’t have been suffering long,” he grunts. “A few hours, maybe.”

“You’re staying the night here. What would you have done?

Gone to the outhouse out back?” I suck in a breath.

“Wow. That’s actually super-hot, thinking about you sneaking off and touching yourself.

Hot and unacceptable. I don’t think that this is something that we can’t come back from or something that’s dirty or wrong. Is that what you feel?”

He has to process that but then he slowly shakes his head. “I just wanted you to be sure.”

I slide his fly down and shove his jeans to the side. I was going to bring his cock out through the slit in his black boxers, but he jerks the elastic waistband down, freeing his long, thick, curved cock, but also trapping it at the base with them.

“Ouch, Zep. Do you like that?”

His teeth flash almost too white in the light. “What if I do?”

“That’s okay then, but if you don’t, I’m not so desperate that you don’t have time to take your clothes off. I want this to be good for you, not about suffering.”

His smile drops away, morphing into a frown that says that it’s going to be about suffering. I get that. Even if we both want this, there’s that edge- all those things that should hold us back.

His hand splays over my belly, communicating all those thoughts in silence.

I cup his cheek. “It’s not- I know what this would seem like to others. The worst kind of messed up, taboo shit, but that’s not why I’m doing it. It doesn’t feel that way to me. I see you . I want you . You’re not a substitute for anything or anyone else.”

“We can’t unwish this. It’s one thing to be messy with zero regrets, but it’s another to wish we could take it back.”

“I’m sure. I know my own mind. That’s it,” I give him zero reason to doubt me. I struggled with this. I’m over it. I really am certain.

He strokes his hand down his length from root to tip. He looks right into my eyes and I meet his dark stare. We’re two opposing forces, equal and opposite in strength.

I let go of him and gather my dress up, holding it out of the way, exposing myself completely to him. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes, waiting . He groans and murmurs something under his breath. I can’t quite hear, but it’s probably something along the lines of, you slay me.

I get it. I feel the same way.

I slay me.

He undoes me.

It’s a perfect storm.

His hand brackets my hip tenderly. He arranges my leg back around his hip and then he takes his cock in hand again and lines himself up with my entrance.

I shut my eyes once again, waiting for that moment when he pushes inside.

Will he be fast and rough or will he go so slowly that my eyes will practically roll in their sockets, and I’ll have to claw my hands into his ass along with my foot to encourage him?

Both of those are really hot options.

I want it hard and fast. I liked giving up control a few minutes ago, but I also want to tell him exactly what I want. “Zeppelin…” It’s not just his voice that’s gone wrecked and husky.

He gets it or he wants it as badly as I do.

In one hard, almost brutal stroke, he fills me.

He eases up immediately when I gasp loudly, but I claw at his hips and dig my heel into his ass, forcing him not to back out.

I know he’s worried that he’s too big or that he’s hurt me, but he didn’t.

He gets it. He pushes forward, filling me so full and stretching me to the point of pain.

I don’t always need or want that bite of hurt with the pleasure, but today I do. It’s delicious.

I love that it’s just us, just our bodies, just the way we both want it.

He thumps his fist on the wall by my shoulder when he’s fully seated inside of me and rakes his hand through my hair with the other.

I’m pinned against the wall by his weight.

He’s so much larger than me. I love the press of that big, hard body against my much smaller one. In comparison, I feel delicate.

The first stroke of his cock as he drags it out and pushes forward until he bottoms out inside of me chases away any other thoughts I have other than how perfectly we fit together.

I can take all of him. I am taking all of him.

I throw my head back, letting the strands tug against his fingers until pain pricks my scalp.

I love the friction. I roll my hips, chasing the high of it. I grasp his hips and use them to leverage myself away and then slam myself back onto him, fucking myself onto his cock as he thrusts into me.

“Shitfuckdamn,” he slurs, making an animal noise low in his throat.

He lets go, thrusting harder and I fight back. He palms my breast roughly, bowing to suckle my nipple into his mouth, creating more heat, more friction, more, more, more. He hammers into me until his jeans, the metal fly, the soft fabric of his boxers, all slam up against me.

I’ve never been a screamer, but I’ve never seen the point in being overly quiet if I don’t want to be.

I’m fine with the sounds that I can’t muffle.

The whimpers and moans, the vibrations and echoes that sound almost shrill and feral.

It all spurs Zeppelin on. My body responds to the faster pace he sets.

I ride it out with him, shoving off the wall when he drives me back, pumping my hips against his. It’s almost a base fight of sorts.

I clutch and claw and grasp at him until he pins me against the wall. He doesn’t roar or go insane or lose it completely. He’s still careful of my body. Still mindful.

I rear forward and bite his neck where it joins his shoulder.

His whole body jerks. He likes the pain.

I like that it feels as though he’s splitting me in half with every single thrust. He’s so big that he easily fills all of me.

All this time, he’s been pushing me towards that high pinnacle, that edge, but it takes his filthy mouth to shove me off into oblivion.

“I’m going to fill you up soon, Ginnifer. Going to come and come inside of you, but I’m going to keep fucking you through it, pushing it all so far up into you that it’ll probably take days to leak out of you.”

“I’ll cross my legs and keep it inside of me like a treasure. Scoop it up and push it back in.”

“Shh.” He lightly presses his palm over my mouth. He’s right near the edge too.