Page 143 of Lethal Attraction

When I feel him getting close—the telltale tightening of his thighs, the way his breathing hitches—I pull off. A string of saliva connects my lips to his cock, and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.

His chest heaves, his eyes wild and unfocused. “Why did you—”

“Because I’m not done with you.” I rise to my feet, my knees aching, but I don’t care. I grab the front of his shirt and pull him toward the bike. “Back up towards the bike.”

He stumbles, catching himself on the leather. His jeans are still around his thighs, and the sight of him like that—exposed, wanting, completely at my mercy—sends a pulse of heat straight through me.

I unbutton my jeans and shove them down until they pool at my feet. The night air kisses my skin, cool against the wetness that has already soaked through my underwear. I don’t bother taking them off. I just push them aside and press myself against him, my hips flush with his as I use the seat of the bike to hold my right foot as I hike my knee up.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” I murmur against his ear, my teeth grazing the lobe. “And you’re going to take it.”

He shudders, his eyes fluttering. “Yes.”

I reach down, position him, and sink onto him in one slow, agonizing motion. The stretch of him inside me makes my vision blur. I brace my hands on his shoulders, my nails digging in painfully as I ride him.

The angle is devastating.

Every thrust drives him deeper, the head of his cock dragging in and out of me. Reed’s hands grip the edge of the seat, and the sounds he makes are low and desperate. My fingers slide around his throat, but I don’t squeeze. I just hold him there, my thumb pressed against his pulse, feeling the frantic beat of his heart. His breath catches, and I feel him swell inside me.

“Look at you,” I whisper, my hips never faltering. “So pretty when you’re mine.”

His head falls forward against my shoulder, and I can see the pleasure twisting his face. I drag my nails down his chest again, hard enough to leave marks, and he groans.

“Thalia—I’m going to—”

I tighten my grip on his throat. Just enough to make his breath hitch and his eyes flutter closed.

“Are you going to cum for me, Reed?” I purr with another harsh slap of my hips.

“Yes,” he rasps. “Fuck, yes.”

“Inside me,” I order, my own release causing my movements to become sloppy as the heat spreads through my limbs. “I want to feel it all.”

He grabs my hips, his lips pulling over his teeth, as he controls me harder and faster. My head tips back as I cry out into the darkness like a demon of the night, my whole soul leaving my body with my orgasm. Heat floods between us as Reed gives a deep, guttural sound in the back of his throat. He stills, and we both pant wildly as we melt into each other’s arms.

We’re smiling like fools as I curl my hand into his chest and listen to his slowing heartbeat as the seconds pass.

Until blue and red lights bounce off the dilapidated buildings and we hear a siren getting closer.

Our heads rip up as we stare wide-eyed at each other.

“Time to go,” Reed says breathlessly.

“Yup,” I agree before we both practically trip over ourselves to put our clothes back on. He helps me slide my jeans over my legs before we hop on the bike just as the police officer rounds into the same area as us.

Reed revs the engine as I lift my middle finger to the cop before we peel out and leave him in a trail of dust.

We pull into Atlas and Loxley’s driveway at the same time they do. Which tells me they also took a detour.

Freaks.

Atlas helps his wife down from the bike before nodding at us. “When I tell you to split a fucking lane, do it.”

I make a jacking off motion before tossing my open hand out at him, spewing my imaginary cum in his direction. “That’s what I think of your attitude.”

Reed snorts. “How the fuck are we supposed to know what the hand signals mean? We don’t use them.”

“I can tell,” Atlas grouches.