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“Fuck you,” I snapped, but again, I was too breathy and turned on to pull off sounding angry.
Colby leaned in to taste me again. This time he did it for longer, until my nails sank into the sofa—ruining the paint job and staining the couch—and a mewl of prurience escaped my lips.
“Let me find us a home,” Colby’s voice vibrated against my pussy.
My eyes almost rolled to the back of my head.
“No,” I whispered.
Colby didn’t continue arguing, his mouth going back down. More relentless than ever. He’d learned every inch of me, was an expert in my body, how to make it sing. So he knew exactly how to take me right to the edge of climax, denying me at the last second.
“Asshole,” I groaned.
Colby didn’t say anything, merely moved his mouth upward.
I held my breath, on the precipice of orgasm as he pushed my camisole up to reveal the ravaged skin of my stomach.
I wanted to tear apart the sofa with my bare hands. Wanted to fight Colby off me and jump into a scalding shower in order to try to scrub the marks from my skin.
Instead, I stayed where I was, let Colby’s mouth brush over those ragged, awful marks. His lips lingered over the worst one.
“Please, stop. I’ll do anything.”
The knife twisted inside of me.
I screamed, my throat painfully raw.
“Of course, you’d do anything, you little whore,” he spat as he wrenched the knife out. Blood and pieces of flesh went flying. His tongue darted out, licking the blade.
“Colby,” I rasped.
His head tilted upward, and I held onto his chocolate eyes, the dark hair that brushed his forehead, the strong shoulders, arms and fingers that had never once hurt me—not without me asking.
His chin rested lighting on my stomach while his finger pushed inside me.
“Let me give you a home.”
I couldn’t speak, my mind pulling me in too many directions at once. All I knew was that I wasn’t ready to give in, not yet, at least. I shook my head.
“My stubborn little minx.” He gave my scar one last kiss before repositioning, taking his finger out of me and whirling me around so I was bent over the sofa, my ass and pussy presented to him.
His belt clanged. That was the only warning I got before he plunged into me.
My scalp burned as he grabbed hold of a fistful of hair, hauling it back to expose my neck.
My body reveled in the glorious pain.
Colby reached around to find my clit.
I let out a strangled moan.
“Let me give you a fuckin’ home,” he repeated, sounding ragged, nearly out of control. “Make a home with me, Sariah.”
My mind rattled, reaching for all the reasons I’d been holding onto. I couldn’t grasp onto any of them. None of them made sense. The only thing that made sense was Colby. Inside of me.
“Fine,” I whispered.
He stilled for one second, his lips grazing my neck. “Wasn’t so hard, was it, poppet?” He sounded far too smug for my liking.
I was about to take it back when he slammed into me, hard, sending me hurtling into nirvana where there was nothing but us.
After more delicious but manipulative sex on the sofa—then on the floor—we made it to the bed.
Our bed, I supposed it was now.
That thought set my teeth on edge, but it also made me feel a little too hopeful.
I’d been stewing on it. The thoughts of the future. Of … us the entire night. I knew Colby sensed my introspection, because that was his way, but he didn’t push or prod. He just let me wander around, putting on a silk nightgown, commencing in an over-the-top nighttime skincare routine while he read leisurely on the bed.
Well, that was until I stood at the end of the bed and shrugged off my nightgown, standing in the dim lamp light completely naked.
Colby immediately put down his book.
I crawled over the covers, straddling him. “We’re doing this my way,” I announced, reaching between his legs to find him already rock hard.
I smiled, guiding him past my slick folds without ceremony.
We both hissed in pleasure. The cords in Colby’s neck were pronounced. His piercing eyes were glued to me, hands gently resting on my hips.
“I want a really big closet,” I demanded.
His eyebrow arched, a smirk morphing his ruggedly masculine face.
“Done,” he agreed without hesitation.
“And a claw footed bathtub.”
“Easy.”
Fuck. No protest.
“And a pink tiled shower,” I added, knowing that any self-respecting biker wasn’t going to shower in a pink shower every day.
“We’re just gonna cut to the chase here,” he murmured, sitting up.
I gasped at the new angle and the brilliant way his cock grazed against my g-spot.
“I’m gonna give you everything you want.” He cupped my face.
I was already breathing heavily, but him saying that… Shit, it almost made me come right then and there.
