Page 129 of Diary of a Biker Queen

I lifted my head, taking in the slight hurt on his face. And I knew why he would think like that.

But he had it all wrong. “Because if you keep talking like that I’m going to come.”

His mouth, shiny with my arousal, flickered into a little smile that dammit, I definitely found a little bit cute.

Not that I’d ever admit it. I put pressure on his head again. “Just get on with it, would you?”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

I rolled my eyes.

But then his tongue was on my pussy again, and he was adding fingers, two, then three, stretching me wide.

I moaned and wrapped my legs around his neck, grinding against his face. I lifted my borrowed shirt to play with my nipples, squeezing each of them, while I stared down at Herb between my legs. He watched me play with myself, the two of us working together to chase away the pain I’d been in and replace it with pleasure.

It was working. The cramping in my stomach eased with each flick of his tongue, each squeeze of my nipples. My body relaxed inch by inch, until the building orgasm washed away the pain and the tidal wave of good feelings sent it out to sea.

I closed my eyes, letting him take over fully.

I wanted to moan his name but couldn’t bring myself to say it.

Moaning “Herb” in the middle of an orgasm just felt…unsexy.

“What’s your name?” I asked breathlessly.

He lifted his head. “Uh, Herb?”

I frowned at him. “Your real name, idiot.”

He laughed. “Oh. It’s Al.”

I stared at him. “Al. You’re telling me your name is essentially Herb-Al. Herbal.”

He shrugged.

“I can’t even with you.” I pushed his head back down.

He didn’t seem to mind, and I bit my lip as the orgasm that had waited patiently through our conversation roared back to life. A few licks and flicks of his tongue, a few more thrusts of his fingers, and he was playing my body like he’d known it for years.

I cried out—not either of his names—just a mumble of ohs and ahs as my thighs shook around his head. The orgasm barreled down on me, wiping away any lingering premenstrual pain or annoyance, and I sank into the feeling of complete relaxation and pleasure. It spiraled from the places he worked inside me and radiated up through my belly and down my thighs and eventually across every inch of me, until I was a quiet, sated, and suddenly a very sleepy, well-satisfied woman.

My legs fell limply off his shoulders, and he gave me a little, shy smile as he gently pulled my panties back on, and fit them in place, covering me up.

He laid back down beside the bed, and the two of us stared at the ceiling of the tent in silence.

I cleared my throat, figuring it needed to be me who spoke. “Um. Thank you.”

He didn’t look at me. “Did it help?”

It honestly really had. “Yes. I think I can go to sleep now.”

He gave a small, but satisfied nod. “I’m glad. If you ever need my services again…”

“I won’t. This was a one-time thing.”

“Got it. My lips are sealed. What happened in the tent, stays in the tent.”

But a smile flickered over my lips that I couldn’t erase. “You’re kind of sweet.”

“I know. Good night, Amber with the pussy that tastes like heaven.”

I laughed. “Good night, Herbal.”