Page 211 of Thrust & Throttle


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Duke’s cell phone rang and he fished it out of his leather cut. He glanced at the screen. “It’s Prez.”

I nodded.

He had to take the call. Club business didn’t stop just because we were on our honeymoon. While he was on the phone, I wandered over to a large rock where a group of school children were taking turns pretending to hold it up and snapping photos with their phones.

Their excitement was endearing.

Duke finished his call and approached me. He saw me watching the kids and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, hooking me into his side. “Let’s get out of here.”

I nodded, knowing where his mind was at.

We hopped on his bike and Duke drove us up a winding mountain path, far away from people. He parked the motorcycle behind a large boulder. The air was fresh, and when I stepped off the bike, I inhaled a deep breath, trying to take it all in.

“Look at that view!” I exclaimed, marveling at the mountains.

“I am,” Duke said gruffly.

I turned to find him staring not at the picturesque scene before us, but at me. And his gaze was hungry.

“Oh,” I breathed. “I see.”

He grasped my hips and guided me back to his bike. His fingers released the button of my pants, pushing them down, along with my panties, so they gathered at my ankles. Duke took my hands and placed them on the leather seat.

“Don’t move.”

His belt buckle clanged as he undid it, and then I felt him behind me. He glided his hands over my skin, down the back of my thighs to spread my cheeks. He slid a finger through my folds, causing me to shudder. I wanted him deep inside me.

We were hidden from the road because of the boulder outcrop and I was grateful for the privacy. All I cared about was the scent of the mountains, the hardness of Duke pressing into me, the feel of the soft leather motorcycle seat beneath my hands.

Duke slammed into my body, but I was ready for him. I was wet and aching, and even though we’d made love the night before, I couldn’t get enough of him.

He reached around me to touch me between my thighs, stroking and pressing until I was shuddering around him.

Duke gripped my hips and thrust like an animal possessed, like he had no choice but to follow his baser instincts.

He moved his hand out from between my legs and gripped my hair, giving it a sharp pull.

“I want to fuck you like this always,” he growled at my back. “I want you like this, but naked, and I want to come on your back. I want to paint my cum all over your skin. I want to be everywhere inside you.”

“Oh, God,” I gasped, his words causing another tremor to spark between my legs.

“Yeah, that’s it. You like it when I talk this way, don’t you?” He let go of my hair, but only so he could grasp my throat in his large hand, his thumb resting just below my ear. He squeezed slightly, exerting just enough pressure to heighten my senses.

My body froze and then another orgasm obliterated me. As wave after wave crashed through me, Duke continued to drill into me until he shouted his own release.

My arms were wobbly and barely held me up. Duke slipped out and I felt his essence on my leg. Without thought, I painted my fingers with it and pushed it back inside me, hoping we’d made a baby.

The late spring snowstorm blew in after we’d made it back to the cabin. Sight-seeing apparently didn’t hold nearly the same appeal when I could sightsee my naked husband’s tattoos and trace them with my tongue.

Which I did, before we both collapsed onto the bed in a sweaty mess. He lifted his arm and I snuggled into his side. His fingers trailed up and down my arm, sending another round of goosebumps along my skin.

“I think we did it,” he said quietly.

“Did what?” I asked, turning my face so I could gently bite his chest.

“I think we made a baby.”

I snorted. “Too soon to tell.”

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