I'd Rather Not (KPD Motorcycle Patrol 3)

I bit my lip and opened my eyes, unsurprised that the first thing I saw was Pace’s wild hair in front of me.

His mouth was at my breast now, his tongue circling one nipple.

“Good morning,” I said huskily.

He looked up from where he was now sucking on my nipple and winked.

I squirmed underneath of him, smiling when I realized what day it was.

It’d officially been a week since I’d been on my birth control, meaning that today would be the day that we could finally go bare for the first time.

I was beyond excited.

Even more, I hadn’t told him that I’d started the script at all.

Meaning when I rolled him over and rode his cock, I would surprise him.

But for now, he was doing delectable things to my body, and I was going to let him do his thing for a few seconds.

“You taste good,” he said.

“What do I taste like?” I teased.

“Like mine,” he growled.

I swallowed hard and shifted my hips wider, loving the way he took advantage of the new position by sliding his body even more solidly between my legs.

“I am yours,” I agreed. “I’ve been yours since the very beginning.”

“Damn straight,” he said, trailing his tongue along the valley between my breasts. “You’re always going to be mine, too.”

I smiled at that.

I loved that he didn’t mince words.

I loved even more that he didn’t hesitate in telling me how he felt.

He told me every single day that he loved me. He showed me every single night—and sometimes in the morning if he had time.

Like this particular morning.

One of his hands moved down to grasp his cock, and I bit my lip when he started to run the head along the bud of my clit.

Things inside of me clenched at the soft but firm touch.

“I love it when you do that,” I gasped, my hips shifting slightly.

The head of his cock notched at my entrance for a few long pulses, then he pulled back and continued rubbing at my clit.

I nearly groaned.

“Hey, Pace?” I reached up and ran my hand along his nape, waiting for his eyes to meet mine.

“Yeah?” he asked, lips glistening from his mouth being on my breast.

His eyes were full of lust, and so gorgeous that it was hard for me not to get lost in them.

“I’ve officially been on my birth control now for a week,” I breathed.

He froze, his hand on his cock and his cockhead once again notched at my entrance.

I lifted my hips and tried to lodge him deeper inside, but his hands went to my hips and stilled me instantly.

“One more time?” he rasped.

“I’m on birth control,” I repeated, this time with amusement lacing my voice. “You can come inside of me.”

That was all it took for him to shift his entire body.

One moment, he was poised at my entrance, not moving an inch, and the next, he was filling me so completely that I gasped and clutched at his head.

It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it was one that I hadn’t felt before in my life.

I was so wet, though, that there wasn’t anything hindering him from sliding all the way inside.

One second, I was empty, and the next—bam.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasped into my neck. “Oh, God.”

I smiled against his neck and lifted my mouth so I could whisper into his ear.

“Is it as good as you thought it would be?” I whispered.

We’d discussed having sex bare. We’d both been tested—obviously seeing as we’d just had surgery. And we knew that we were exclusive and planned to be for a very long time. The logical next step was to go in this direction.

And oh, God. What a direction.

I’d, of course, known that there would be a difference for him. What I hadn’t realized was that there would be a difference for me.

I hadn’t given it much thought, him being in me with the condom. Of course, he made sure to always have me wet. That I was enjoying it. But, the other problem was that there was always the feeling of something artificial. I hadn’t realized that the intrusion of the extra layer of latex would make a difference in the way he felt inside of me until there was no condom.

And Jesus Christ on a cracker, the feeling of him skin to skin? It was nothing that I could ever imagine.

He felt hot, and I was so wet. It felt right.

“Pace, are you going to move?” I whispered into his ear. “Or answer me?”

He grunted something, still holding still, and I laughed.

“Does it feel that good?” I teased.

“It feels like what I would imagine euphoria feels like,” he rumbled deeply. “Like a shower after the end of a long, hot, exhausting day. Like the way it feels when you have a cookie for the first time in a week. Like a sip of water when you’ve had nothing to drink for hours.”