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“Move, biker,” I demand, my voice a little more growly than I expected. “Fuck me.”
That’s all he needs to get moving. His hands are everywhere, squeezing my tits, palming my thighs while his hips push in steady strokes that offer no moment of peace. It’s an all-out onslaught of sensations rippling over my skin, dampening our thighs and making a wet noise with every stroke. It’s the most incredible feeling in the world, and I am so fucking deliriously happy that I waited for this tattooed, bad boy biker.
Lucky. Fuck, I’m lucky to be here in this bed.
I move my hands to his waist and feel his skin. Noticing how good he feels under my fingertips. His chest, his arms. His tatted-up skin is perfect. Soft and warm under my hands.
His muscles flex as he moves in and out, and my hands slide down to his butt cheeks. I’ve never felt a man like this, committing to memory the way he feels as he moves.
“Fuck, Princess,” He growls through gritted teeth. His face twists in pleasure, and beads of sweat form on his brow.
“Yeah, Lucky,” I gasp, my voice thick with desire. “Oh God, yes. Give me all of you. Go deeper.”
Lucky’s hips surge, picking up speed, and the intensity overwhelms me. Another orgasm crashes over me way too soon, starting from my toes and shooting through my entire body. I clench around him, taking every inch as he continues to pound into me.
I’m trembling and shaking my way through this orgasmic moment, but all I can think is how beautiful his face is twisted in passion.
“Lucky!” I shout at the feel of his cock coming inside of me. “I can feel you.”
He grunts in response, his thrusts growing more urgent, riding out his own pleasure. I can’t hold back. I come again and again. My body shakes uncontrollably until tears fall from my eyes.
After a few moments of trying to catch my breath, my body twitches in sharp aftershocks. I can barely think, barely breathe, and I have the wordsI love youon the tip of my tongue.
But I won’t say it. I’m not stupid.
I won’t ruin this incredible first time for anything.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Lucky
Jesus, how did this happen? We can’t be more different. Aria and I come from different worlds, but when we’re together, none of that shit matters. She’s not the pampered princess, and I’m not the battle-hardened biker. We’re just Lucky and Aria.
And it feels so right.
I turn slightly and watch her sleeping so peacefully with a small smile curving up the corner of her lips, a goofy smile on my face. Her thick eyelashes fan across her cheeks, and her skin is flawless, no stress or worry marring her beautiful face.
Does she feel the same way? Do I even want to ask?
She told me last night why she wanted me to pop her princess cherry because she LIKES me and trusts me.
And?
I’m never going to be rich like Geoffrey, keeping her in designer duds and people cleaning up after her, but I can take care of her. Is money a dealbreaker for her?
I answer my own question. Probably. There’s no way to go from that level of wealth to anything less. If I’m being honest, I know that. It’s nothing more than wishful thinking on my part to believe otherwise.
Aria’s sleepy eyes open to mine, and she smiles. “Good morning, handsome.” Her hand caresses my face, her thumb scraping on the scruff at my jawline. “Last night was perfect, Lucky.”
“It was pretty fucking perfect,” I agree with a smile.
Her head falls back, and she laughs. “Thank you. I was pretty turned on. You were beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” I chuckle at the word, and she laughs, pushing up to her elbows and leaning forward to kiss me. Like always, the kiss quickly turns hot and dark, and Aria slides on top of me, straddling my hips while she devours my mouth, moaning as her hips grind against me.
She’s so fucking wet it’s dripping down my cock and onto my belly, making me so hard that I can’t stand it. Her body quivers as my cock grows beneath her, and she yanks her mouth away with a growl. “Lucky.”
“Your pussy wants me. Again.”
