“Bryan.” His answer had a tone of amusement like I should have been smart enough to figure that out.
My eyes looked at the different patches that decorated his leather vest. The club name. What I assumed was his place in that club. A few others that I honestly didn’t even care to try and figure out right now.
“Make me scream it,” I said brazenly as I looked back into his eyes.
He straightened like he couldn’t believe I had just said that. I was a little shocked myself. But I suddenly didn’t care about anything. Not being that perfect girl that did what she was told. The one that had three-minute sex with her fiancé or the one that hopped on a plane whenever she needed a new outfit.
“Yes, my Queen,” he said as his boot stepped with a heavy purpose over the threshold.
I should have hated his pet names. I should have scoffed at them. That wasn’t me, not anymore. Not ever again. However, from his lips they were perfect. Maybe it was just that anything that came from those sinful lips was nothing short of amazing and beautiful.
I was rooted in place for a half of a second, then I was airborne as my back hit the wall with a thud. His hand cupped my ass and my legs wrapped around his thick, built frame without any hesitation.
The door shut with a slam and I didn’t care that there might have been a scuff mark on the clean white paint from his boot. Or that it might have woken my neighbors. Or that I was about to let a biker—a criminal, no doubt—have his way with me. I even welcomed it. I wanted it, craved it beyond reason at this point.
He ground his hardness into my core as his lips took mine. A possessive growl ripped from his throat and I actually whimpered as it vibrated my body. This kiss was just as good as the first, if not better. The illusion that maybe I had been so desperate and needy for something the first time was quickly demolished to nothing but ash that blew away in the wind. Because, whether I wanted to admit it or not, he had made me come alive.
“You sure you want my filthy hands on you?” he asked though it wasn’t a question and by his tone, he wasn’t being nice.
I did. I wanted his filthy, dirty, rough hands all over me.
I wanted him to do all kinds of filthy, dirty, rough things to me.
“Shut up and show me what you’ve got,” I said quite hotly.
This wasn’t me. I wasn’t some saucy tart. I wasn’t one that let myself be free and talked like that. I blamed it on him. He brought out the uncouth woman desperate to break free.
One that I hadn’t even realized was there until now.
I brought my lips to his again and this time, I sucked and bit the full bottom one. There was a hiss that came from him but I didn’t think it was because I had hurt him.
“You asked for it,” he growled.
There was a fight with our mouths, our tongues at war to come out on top.
Then he was walking. In between kisses, I directed him to my bedroom. He didn’t let me down, his strong arms carrying me with ease as his feet pounded steadily across the condo floor.
He placed me on the bed with such a gentleness that it threw me for a second. I didn’t want tender. I didn’t want him to care. I wanted to forget.
I tore at his clothes, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Ease up, baby,” he said almost softly. “I’ve been dreaming of this since the moment I saw you. Want to make this last.”
My hands froze. Actually, my whole body froze. Everything except my heart which was beating too hard and too loudly for me to handle.
“I’ll make you forget, but I also want you to remember,” he said like he could read me so well.
I didn’t want to be an open book right now. I was on the verge of tears and hated it.
“Watch me. Only me,” he said as he pressed me down into the mattress, covering me completely with his body.
His lips kissed down my neck as his calloused fingers slipped under my shirt and slid up my stomach. The cool air hit my skin as he pushed the fabric up. I felt the goosebumps rise and his hands were so hot against my flesh. The contradiction was driving me insane with need and lust.
My shirt was freed. I was exposed and trying to hide the fact that I felt so vulnerable.
I was sure he had seen tons of women naked. I mean, look at him, he was hot and cocky and had thatI’ll give it to you goodthing going on. I didn’t want to know how I compared to all those other women but at the same time, I did. I had to know if I was up to his standards. I wasn’t loose. I wasn’t provocative. I didn’t have huge boobs. I was skinny and at times I would have said bony and ugly. There wasn’t any kind of curve to my body. That was what I had grown up thinking was beautiful. That women needed to be thin. That men didn’t like seeing even an ounce of fat. And Bryan, he was very built so I imagined that maybe he liked his woman fit as well. I wasn’t fit. I had a flat stomach but it wasn’t because I spent hours at the gym. I always thought of myself as a stick and I couldn’t see how that was attractive.
My eyes met his and there was something appreciative in them. So I let all my insecurities and apprehensions go and gave into everything he was about to give me.
