WAYLON (Ruthless MC 1) - Page 32

“Fuck, you’re already wet. You’re just as bad as me, angel. You’ve been thinking about this all day too, haven’t you?”

His voice slithers into my ear, and I nod helplessly, unable to deny the truth.

“You like how crazy you’re driving me with this shit?” he asks me, his fingers pumping inside my folds. “You get a kick out of making me reclaim you?”

Too far. He’s taking this conversation too far.

“Waylon—” I start to protest.

“Sssh, I don’t want to hear my real name out your mouth again until you’re coming.”

He’s delusional, so obviously insane. But his fingers feel too good inside of me. I don’t answer. I can’t answer. Can’t make myself make him stop.

But no answer is the wrong answer. It feels like a punishment when he removes his hand from my center and settles it on the back of my neck again. Heavy and authoritative.

“Take my dick out,” he commands with the scent of my essence wafting from his fingers. “I want you to see…I want you to see what you’re doing to me.”

I have all the power here. He’s chained to the bed.

But his voice is a trance I can’t deny. I reach beneath the band of his sweatpants, and oh my God…

The feel of his ridge below me didn’t remotely prepare me for the real thing. His shaft pulses inside my hand, thick and obscene. It’s heavily veined and dripping pre-cum.

The sight is so raw. I have to avert my eyes.

“No, don’t look away.” He presses all four of his fingers into the back of my neck so that I have to look down. “I want you to see this. You need to know what you’re doing to me. Just the sight of you with another guy…fuck, put that condom on me, then put me where I belong. Inside that wet pussy.”

Just two days ago, I wouldn’t have guessed I could follow such a lewd command. Not without an “accident” that led to frozen peas.

But his urgency becomes my urgency. I reach over to the brown bag and grab the way too large box of condoms he bought. After fishing out a gold foil square with the word “MAGNUM” stamped across it in black block letters, I take the latex out and roll it over his cock without any issue—guess preparing wands for all of those emergency ultrasounds came in handy.

“Good, good, angel,” he croons. “Now, put me inside like I said.”

Like he said….

Following his instructions, I lift and seat myself on his erection.

It’s not like the sex in my shifter books….

…it’s so much better.

He’s right. I’ve been thinking about this all day. I couldn’t make myself stop. And now my arousal has made my sex slippery with want and need. My vagina stretches wide to allow him inside, and we both groan when I slide down the whole of his length.

And yes, it hurts a little when he’s all the way inside, but I was expecting that. I don’t mind the sweet sting and pressure as much as I thought I might and the accompanying fullness…it’s incredible.

This time I don’t have to be told what to do next. I brace my hands against his broad shoulders as my hips begin to move of their own accord.

What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

The question echoes, then falls away, useless as an ice cube in winter. I can’t stop. I can’t stop.

I’m riding him. So hard that our flesh slapping together becomes the only sound in the quiet apartment. He doesn’t move—just stares up at me with his hand on the back of my neck.

But I know he must be into this too. His cock is rigid as steel and planted so deep inside of me. I can feel its throb as I grind down, seeking, seeking…something I can’t quite find.

My clit…I dimly recall how he made me explode yesterday with just a few rubs of that button, and I bring my hand down to do the same thing he did last night. I’m so close. I want—I need to come. But he captures my wrists, an iron shackle disguised as a hand.

What is he doing? Why won’t he let me….?

“This is my pussy,” he growls, answering all the questions I’m too dazed and confused to ask out loud. “You don’t touch it unless I say so.”

“But…” I squirm on his hard cock and feel him pulse inside of me like a bomb about to go off. “You want to come too. I know you do. Why are you ruining this for both of us?”

He gives me a smile that could almost be mistaken for tender if not for the crazy gleam in his eye.

“Aw, angel. I’m not ruining nothing. I’m teaching you. Now say it: you belong to me.”

He twists my hand behind my back. Not enough to hurt above my waist. But below is another matter.

Tags: Theodora Taylor Ruthless MC Romance
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