Cyrus (The Henchmen MC 9)

My inward gasp of breath seemed to penetrate the crazed fog that was overtaking him, making his lips pull from mine, his heavy-lidded eyes opening to watch me as his palms moved upward to gently cup my breasts. It had been so long, the sensation almost felt foreign, like the first time.

His thumbs moved out to stroke across the hardened peaks before his fingers took them and did delicious rolls that made my legs almost go weak from the brilliant surge of desire. My arms went around his shoulders, more to make sure I didn't fall down with the pulsing need between my thighs as his hands left my breasts to move to pull my shirt up, making my arms leave his neck to go straight above my head.

"Fuck," he hissed as his hands moved to trace the band of my bra toward the back, his eyes fixated on my breasts that felt heavy all of a sudden. His fingers moved out to tease over the sensitive skin, making shivers course across it.

At this point, my mind and body were at odds.

My body had preferred the hard, fast, demanding, had known that it would bring me to orgasm faster.

But my mind was enjoying the slow and sweet, finding something almost akin to worship in his touch.

His fingers moved upward, tracing under my clavicles, then over my shoulders, and down my arms, moving inward over my hips to where the waistband of my pants was. And I swear, his eyes asked for permission. My shaky breath was all the answer he needed before he started working the soft, tight material down, going down on his knees as he did so, lips pressing into the skin as it became exposed - under my hipbone, under the bottom of my panty line, down the center of my thigh, the side of my knee, the bone that ran down the front of my leg. He lifted each foot, releasing it from the leggings, before kissing his way up the other leg. But he didn't stop at my hip. He went up the center of my belly, his beard scratching and tickling in a delicious way. His lips pressed between my breasts. Then, before I could even fully anticipate it, his lips closed around one of my nipples, sucking it hard, then lavishing over it with his tongue until my whimpers became somewhat incoherent begging as he moved across my chest to torture my other nipple.

"Bed," he mumbled as his lips moved up the column of my neck. His hands moved to my hips, gripping slightly into my butt, as he dug in and pulled up, forcing my legs around his hips as he lifted me, and brought me toward the bed, lying flat, and pulling me on top of him.

My hips dropped to feel his cock, straining hard against the thick material of his jeans, making my body do an instinctive grind against him to try to sate the borderline painful need for release.

His hand closed around the back of my neck, pulling my lips to his again, releasing me a moment later so his hands could freely trace down my back, sides, then, finally, over my ass where they slipped under the material to squeeze the swells without a barrier, his fingertips touching the innermost backs of my thighs, so so close to where I needed to feel him so badly.

As if sensing the desperation, his arm anchored around my hips, then rolled, coming over me completely. He pressed back and up on his knees, reaching between us to snag the last small, pink lacy barrier, and starting to drag it downward, losing patience less than halfway down when he grabbed it, pulled, and ripped it off.

My hand slapped down on his thigh in a mix of surprise and need. But then his hands were under my knees, pulling them up, then pressing them open against the mattress as he dropped down, and sucked my clit into his mouth.

The.

World.

Went.

White.

I was pretty sure other hotel room guests within three floors heard my cry as Cyrus devoured me, tongue moving in circles, lips sucking, hands kneading my inner thighs as he made that rumbling noise of his deep in his chest as he ate me, like it was the single most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

My hand slapped down on the back of his neck as his head shifted, tongue sliding down my slit, beard burning across my inner thighs, tickling over my sensitive flesh in a way I never knew before. His tongue curled, then penetrated, a incredible, unknown sensation as he started thrusting, his thumb moving up to work my clit at the same time.

It was a matter of a few, short minutes before my inner thighs started shaking, before my sex tightened, before my breath caught, and the orgasm crashed through my system.