Page 8 of My Wild Biker

I watch her above me, the lamplight catching on her skin, the way her breasts move with each motion, the concentration on her face like she's chasing something specific.

"God, you feel good," I tell her.

She smiles and picks up the pace.

I let her control it, enjoying the view and the sensation, but eventually I need more. I grip her hips and start thrusting up to meet her, harder and deeper. She gasps and her nails dig into my chest.

"Yes. Like that."

I give her what she wants. What we both want. The rhythm gets faster, more urgent. I can feel sweat on both of us, hear our breathing harsh in the quiet room. My hand slides up to palm her breast and when I pinch her nipple she cries out.

"Close," she gasps. "So close."

I get my thumb on her clit and press hard. She breaks apart above me three thrusts later, shaking and crying out my name.

The sight and sound of it drag my own orgasm out and I come hard, my hands gripping her hips tight enough I know she'll bruise.

She collapses forward onto my chest and we lie there breathing like we ran miles.

Eventually she lifts her head. "That was..."

"Yeah."

She grins and kisses me, softer this time. Then she slides off while I’m trying to remember how my legs work.

When I turn back she's already under the covers, watching me with drowsy eyes.

I should leave. That's the protocol. Casual hookup, clean exit, no complications.

I get back in bed instead.

She turns on her side facing me and I mirror her. We lie there looking at each other in the dim light.

"You stayed," she says. Not a question, just observation.

"That okay?"

"Yeah. It's okay."

I reach out and rest my hand on her hip because not touching her feels wrong somehow. She closes her eyes and her breathing evens out within minutes.

I watch her sleep and try to sleep myself but it doesn't come easy.

My mind keeps replaying the evening. The way she looked at me across the bar. The sounds she made. The way she didn't perform or hold back, just gave me honesty. The weight of her body against mine.

When's the last time sex felt like that?

I don't have an answer.

Eventually I drift off but it's not deep. I wake up twice and both times my hand is still on her hip like it got stuck there.

When the sky starts going gray through the window, I'm awake for good.

I lie there watching Isla breathe and thinking about nothing and everything.

She stirs awake around seven-thirty, her eyes opening slowly and focusing on me with brief surprise before she smiles.

"Morning."