Rhythm of the Road (Lost Kings MC 16)

“I want to make you come.”

In the mirror, our eyes meet, but my expression doesn’t change. I’m dead serious. I press my hand more firmly between her thighs. “These need to come off, right?”

She licks her dark red lips and inches her feet apart instead of answering with words.

Works for me.

I yank her shorts and underwear down her legs, stopping to kiss the small of her back before helping her out of them.

These last few months, I’ve found myself wondering if my mind exaggerated how gorgeous Shelby is. Her hips couldn’t possibly curve in such a perfect way to fit my big hands, could they? Yup, they do. Her plush thighs and ass are as gorgeous as I remember too. None of that thigh gap nonsense I’ve overheard some of the club girls bragging about. Not on my Shelby. She’s got smooth legs, toned from years of hard work as a waitress and now the discipline she uses in her performances. “You’re beautiful everywhere. You know that?”

“No,” she whispers.

“Guess you need me around to remind you more often.” Now that she’s bare, I pull her against me again.

“This seems unfair. I’m naked. You’re fully dressed.”

“We’ll even up later.”

“I’m nervous someone will walk in…”

Without moving my eyes from the mirror, I reach back and slam the door shut. “Don’t worry about anything else. I’ll take care of you.”

She has a point, though. We don’t have the luxury of time on our side. I nip her earlobe. “I want to thoroughly lick your pussy and fuck you for hours, Shelby. This is only a preview.”

I skate my hand over her stomach, straight between her legs, pressing the pad of one finger over her clit.

“Oh!” She jolts against me.

“Spread your legs.”

She inches her feet apart and I bend to get a better angle, gently sliding one finger inside her.

“Oh God,” she whines.

I add another finger, slowly stretching and opening her. My lips find their way to her neck, sucking at her skin. My other hand cups her breast, pinching her nipple until she squirms.

“Pretty, Shelby.” I grind the heel of my hand against her clit, slowly working my fingers in and out of her. “So tight.”

She arches her back and writhes against me. A silent scream parts her lips.

“That’s it,” I encourage.

I can’t help the dirty smirk on my mouth as she grinds herself against my hand, carelessly chasing her pleasure. A few tiny whimpers pass her lips. Sweat mists her skin. I slow my thrusting fingers but don’t stop until she drops her head. Her ragged breathing and trembling limbs are the only movement between us.

“Oh my God.” She wraps her hand around my wrist, and tugs. “Too much.”

Her little body jumps as I withdraw my fingers. Not sure she can hold herself upright, I keep one arm around her. “I can’t move,” she whispers.

Beating on my chest would probably ruin the moment, but damn if I’m not tempted. I lean over and kiss her bare shoulder instead.

“Let’s get you dressed.”

“What about you?” She reaches back and strokes my painfully hard dick through my jeans.

“No.” I shift away from her touch before I come in my pants. “Later.” I brush my thumb over her carefully painted red lips. “When I can properly smear this.”

When she finally opens her eyes, they’re practically glowing. A deep sense of satisfaction hammers through my blood. She nips the end of my thumb and I groan. “Careful, Shelby,” I warn. “I’m short on restraint at the moment.”

She pouts but takes a step back. I lean forward and flick the faucet on, quickly washing my hands and wetting a paper towel to dab the sweat off her chest and arousal from her thighs.

“Still need my help?”

A serene smile ghosts over her lips. “The orgasm was more than helpful.” She picks up the cage-like contraption from the edge of the sink and arranges her tits into the lacy cups. “But I could use your assistance with this.”

Fastening the long line of hooks down her back is a tricky job. Big fingers and tiny metal hooks don’t mix. But something worse occurs to me as I work each closure. “Who usually helps you?”

She chuckles softly and shimmies to adjust her tits again. “I’ll usually hook it in front and twist it around, but it’s a pain in the ass.” She shrugs. “I don’t feel comfortable asking Cindy.”

Her simple admission wraps around my heart and squeezes. Too shy to ask anyone else to help her with something so simple but intimate. I don’t know what to think about that. Actually, I suspect I do know—I just can’t afford to let the feelings form and take hold when she’ll be two states away by the beginning of next week.

“There.” I pat her ass, enjoying the bounce of her flesh against my palm.

She bends over to pick up her shorts and I groan. It would be so easy to have her grip the edge of the sink, arch her back, and—