Sinful Protector (Roughshod Rollers MC 2)

Fuck. My body trembles at her words. It’s a losing battle, and she hasn’t even touched me yet. I try to stand my ground anyway.

“Allison…” I try.

“No more talking,” she whispers.

She kisses me again, her hand drifting downward to cup me through my jeans, her other hand on her shoulder, and I’m gone. It was hard enough to back away before, when the touch of her skin is like a drug. Now that she’s telling me what she wants and is touching me again, I simply can’t refuse her.

It will be okay, I decide. I could talk to her about this afterward. For now, I’ll let her work off some steam.

I kiss her back just as hard. I remember last night, how we had moved slow and sensually against each other, taking the time to feel everything about each other’s bodies. This is nothing like that. This is more like the first time we had sex, when Allison had pressed me up against an alley wall until we decided to move onto her apartment.

It’s rushed and animalistic, taking only what we each want from the other, biting and scratching until all we can feel is each other’s touch. I put my hands under Allison’s butt and lift her up, and her legs wind tightly around my hips, her fingers digging into my cheeks as our tongues tangle and fight, unwilling to be apart for even a moment. I walk blindly forward until we hit the table, and I push Allison so she’s sitting on top of it, her legs spread open and me sitting between them. All that’s between us is my jeans and her robe, as neither of us saw fit to dress properly when we got up.

I’m thankful for that now.

“Fuck, you’re all ready for me like this,” I say with harsh, panting breaths, pushing Allison’s robe over her shoulders.

She smirks at me and grabs my hardened penis through my jeans again, and I choke on my next breath.

“What about you, Mr. Commando?” she teases.

Of course, she would have noticed that I didn’t put my boxer shorts back on when I got out of bed to get the aspirin. I grin at her and wind my hand through her hair, tugging lightly on a fistful of strands. Her hand falls back obediently, exposing her neck to me. I lap at her jaw and travel down, biting at her neck as I go. Allison wriggles beneath me, gasping with each bite, her hands gripping my arms as an anchor.

“Shit, Kyle,” she groans.

I reach her collarbone and, remembering the way she marked me last night (I can still feel the bite marks), I bite down and suck the skin in my mouth, working it between my teeth and then soothing it with my tongue. She lets out a wordless groan this time, her head falling to the side to give me better access, and I grin against her skin before I pull back.

“Look, now we match,” I chuckle.

“Seriously?” she asks, glaring at me through half-lidded eyes. “Now isn’t the time for jokes, Kyle.”

She tightens her legs around me and pulls me forward. My clothed groin meets her bare one and we both groan. Allison rubs herself against me, looking for some friction, and my hips buck toward her without permission.

“I need more,” she gasps. “Fuck, make me feel more, Kyle.”

She wants to feel, not to think. I know I should pull away and talk to her now. I know she’s stressed and scared, and she’s just using me, right now, to make those emotions disappear. But I don’t pull away.

I can’t.

She’s here in my arms, and I can’t let go of her, not now. I’m sweating and my breath is heaving, and we’re so close together that there’s nothing that could pry us apart anymore. If Allison wants to feel rather than think, I’ll give her exactly what she wants.

I put my hands under her knees and tug her forward. She almost falls backward, but she catches herself on her elbows, her expression confused as I sit her right on the edge of the table and step back, forcing her legs to unwind from around my hips.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Patience, Allison,” I say, repeating what she had said last night.

She grins. “Fuck patience,” she laughs.

I grin at the role reversal and drop down to my knees. I see the moment she gets it. Her expression goes wide and her legs tremble as I gently push them further apart so I can kneel comfortably between them. I wink up at her.

“Just thought I’d return the favor from last night,” I say.

I reach out and rub my fingers over her folds. She’s wet, and it smears over my fingers as I rub them over her entrance, her entire body trembling. I look up at her; her eyes are fixed on me, watching my every moment.

I hold her gaze and slowly put the fingers I touched her with into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the digits. She gasps, panting hard as she watches me taste her. I remove my fingers, which are now wet with saliva.

“Just preparing,” I say, my voice rough.