Hard Ride (Filthy Dirty Desires)

A worry line forms between his brows, like he’s deciding if he should act on his impulses. Please Lord, let him keep going.

The silence drags on too long, and I wrap my arms around his neck. “Please, tell me,” I whimper, unable to handle the suspense about what he’s thought about doing to me.

Everything about this situation is naughty and forbidden, and my panties are already wet.

“I know you’ve probably never been fucked hard,” he says, melting my bones. “Fucked right. Like a woman should be fucked. And hell, I’ve been jerking off nightly, thinking about doing that to you.”

I’m soaked by his words, and I tilt my hips, seeking some sort of relief from the ache in my core.

He rocks his dick into me. “You turned on? Your little pussy craving my touch?”

“It’s so craving your touch.”

His big hand lands on my leg, inching up my skirt as his fingers glide further up until he’s nearly at the hem of my panties. I knew this man was good-looking, but never realized just how spectacular he was until he’s right up on me, breathing in my same air, pecking kisses along my neckline. His hand hovers over my thigh, barely touching me, and I want to push him to the finish line. What is he waiting for?

He stares at me with hooded eyes. “When’s the last time you’ve been fucked good?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I ever have.” Sure, I’ve had sex, but none I’d consider good by any means.

His nimble finger slips my panties to the side so he can touch me there.

There. Mm.

Oh, right there.

Yes.

He runs his finger through my wetness, and I moan out long and low. “You’re so goddamn wet for me. How perfect.”

I twist my hips, thrusting against his hand, seeking any type of relief. “Please,” I whimper.

“You’re so fucking needy. Look how bad you want it.”

“I do. Give it to me,” I beg.

“I’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart.”

Finally, he slides a finger inside me, and I nearly buck off the sink. “Damn, you feel too good. Hot and tight. It should be a sin,” he growls out before his lips capture mine once more as his finger pushes in and out of me. His thumb circles my clit, and I nearly have an orgasm right here and now.

I’ve never come so quickly, not even with my vibrator. I want to feel him everywhere. All over me. Inside me. Deeper.

I ride his hand, grinding, unashamed to let him gift me what I need. Frustration flows off me in waves, and I tug at his shirt.

I need to see what he looks like without a shirt.

He shucks off his leather vest and helps me remove the soft cotton, and damn, I hope my body looks this good at his age. Ink flows over his skin like exquisite paintings framed by the ridges and grooves of abs and muscles.

“Wow,” I whisper, trying to take in all of his tattoos at once.

He smirks, obviously liking the way I’m studying him. “You keep looking at me like that and we’ll be in here all night.”

“I’m actually ok with that,” I tell him as I bring my lips to his chest, kissing a path over a heart tattoo above his left nipple.

He keeps working me, sliding his fingers inside, stroking my clit, making my nerve endings hum in a chorus of pleasure with each jerk of his hand.

“Oh god,” I moan out.

“You’re a tight little thing,” he says, squeezing my ass with his other hand, bringing me closer to him. “I can’t wait to be fit snug inside you.”

I fumble with his belt buckle, trying my best to release the beast hidden behind his pants. “Please.”

“I love how needy you are for my cock.” His lips crash to mine once more as my body nears its crest. And then it breaks, flooding my body.

“I’m coming,” I moan, my body picking up speed as he groans his approval. Pinpricks of lights flash behind my eyelids, and I swear I leave my body and float straight to the heavens. Silas has finger banged me so good, I died. As soon as my body calms, I open my eyes to find Silas staring at me, as if he’s amazed by what he’s seeing.

He removes his hand and licks his fingers as I climb off the sink and stand on shaky legs.

My dress falls over my body and the only sound is our heavy breathing. What now? I don’t know what to do, and for a moment, I feel awkward.

I can’t believe what I’ve just done with Silas Irons.

“I… uh…” I can’t even think of what to say, so I revert to what I tell my customers at the Hungry Grocer. “Thank you for your business. Come again.” I mean, it kind of fits. I’d certainly like to come again. Oh god, what do I do?