Page 94 of Diary of a Biker Queen

I was sure I was asleep within minutes. I was too relaxed not to be, but when I came to, it was gentle, a barely conscious noticing of my awareness once more.

And Lynx hadn’t stopped. He’d added an electric blanket over the parts of me he wasn’t actively working on, keeping me warm, but his fingers still diligently worked over each of my muscles and joints, and my entire body felt more cared for and loved than I think I’d ever felt in my life.

I lifted my head sleepily. “Hey.”

He glanced up from working on my lower back. “Hey, beautiful. Enjoy your nap?”

“How long was I out?”

“Almost two hours.”

I blinked. “Two hours? And you’re still doing this?”

He winked at me. “Touching you isn’t exactly a hardship, Nyah. I’d touch you all day and all night if you let me.”

“If you keep touching me like that, I might.” I stretched deliciously, feeling the difference him kneading out the kinks and knots had made. “You might have missed your calling, you know. Who taught you how to massage like that?”

“YouTube.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nodded. “I wanted to learn how to do it well for you. So I watched a bunch of videos.”

“You are seriously one of the nicest people I know.”

He squinted at me. “Would you think the same if I told you that while I was massaging you, I had a hard-on and some really impure thoughts?”

I snorted. “I would still think you’re a nice guy. Male, obviously, but still nice.”

He gave an overexaggerated sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God for that. I’d hate for you to think I was only doing it for the peek of your pussy between your thighs every time I got close to them.”

I widened my legs. “Very unprofessional.”

His gaze strayed to the space between them. “Very,” he agreed. “Probably unprofessional if I slid my hands along there too. I guess.”

“Maybe. But I was led to believe this service was a full-body massage. And there’s definitely parts of my body you haven’t touched yet.”

“I’d hate to have a disappointed customer,” he muttered, his breath hitching as he slid his oiled-up fingers over the globes of my ass and inner thighs.

I widened them farther, and he gave me exactly what I wanted. He oiled up the only place on my body he hadn’t yet covered. His flattened palm ran over my clit, then my lower lips, then that spot between my openings and finally over my ass. And then he did it again and again, massaging all my most intimate areas with long, slow strokes that sent blood and sensation flooding to the area, making it warm and tingly and oh-so pleasant.

I fought the urge to push back against him or to reach for his belt buckle so I could do a little massaging of my own. I wanted to play the game. The role. Make it last as long as possible.

But if he kept touching me like that, I wasn’t going to last long at all.

He massaged my clit until I was panting, and then his fingers found my entrance, two of them pushing inside me with ease, both of them slick with the oil I hadn’t even bothered asking if it was safe to use in intimate ways, because I knew he would have already checked it was.

Another finger played with my rear opening, and I couldn’t stifle the moan at having him stimulate both areas at once. I wrapped my fingers tightly around the handles beneath the table, and gasped at the intrusion of taking one of his thick, oiled-up fingers into my ass. Feeling exploded everywhere inside me, and I found myself instinctively digging my knees into the table, so I had some leverage to push back on him, actively participating in drawing my body closer and closer to the orgasm it craved. As lovely as it was to lie fully flat on the table, I twisted my head to watch him work.

There was nothing but pure pleasure and satisfaction on his face. He didn’t seem to mind at all that he’d been doing this for hours and it had to be hurting his hands. He didn’t for a second make me think there was somewhere else he wanted to be.

Lynx was the king of being present in the moment. To being with you in the room and not in a hurry to do anything other than just be.

I suspected that was courtesy of doing a stint in prison, where there was nothing to do for hours on end, but I didn’t want to bring up bad memories, so I didn’t question him.

I just drank in his calm, unbothered presence and tried to live in the moment with him. In the moment where Dax wasn’t missing or hadn’t walked away. In this moment, it was just me and Lynx and the orgasm he was building inside me that couldn’t wait to be set free.

Every stroke of his fingers brought me closer and closer. My body coiled into a giant ball of need, and I rocked back, his fingers working their magic inside me.