Biker's Virgin

I nodded.

“Then… I guess…” he slipped his free hand around my neck and tangled his fingers in my hair. “I guess there's only one way to know if you’re telling the truth,” he whispered as he leaned in and covered my lips softly with his.

There was a brief moment of resistance on my part—a fleeting moment, the last brick in my wall coming down and settling in a cloud of dust. I parted my lips and allowed his tongue to explore. The taste of wine rushed over me as our tongues moved in a shifting, gentle dance. He pulled me closer as we kissed, his hand gently moved to cup my face. Possessed of its own will, my hand glided up to caress his magnificently solid chest. It was just as statuesque in feeling as it looked.

He began to run his hands up and down my back, brushing the skin ever so lightly with his fingertips. Every subtle touch sent shivers of pleasure rippling along the surface of my skin.

We parted, both gasping for breath after the intensity of the kiss. He looked as if he was going to say something, to hesitate, but then his expression changed. Instead, he leaned in and kissed the side of my neck. His lips grazed along my throat, nibbling and biting with just enough force to tantalize and set me aflame with want.

His hands began exploring more of me as his tongue trailed kisses back up my neck until his lips found mine once more. I ran my fingers in every direction I could find, caressing his back, which was just as solid as the rest of his body. Every time his lips touched my skin or his hands traced along the outside of my breast, I felt a fresh surge of pleasure shudder through my body.

I gasped softly; his touch had just the right amount of force balanced with gentleness. It was apparent he knew how to touch a woman's body.

I felt my hands slipping down, returning to trickle over his gloriously ripped midsection, mirroring the gentle, yet arousing, touches he was planting on my body.

Moans of pleasure slipped from his mouth as he continued to scatter kisses down my neck and shoulders. As I moved my hands farther south, his mouth began to wander downward. He slipped the strap of my dress down ove

r my shoulder just enough to expose what he was after. His thumb deliberately brushed across my nipple as it hardened, prompting a sharp, drawn-in breath of pleasure from me.

He traced a heated trail down across my belly with his hand and moved his mouth from my shoulder. “I can stop any time you want me to,” he breathed into my ear.

“Never,” I gasped, and his warm mouth made its way down to my breast, replacing his thumb. As his tongue danced playfully around my nipple, I could feel an intense arousal coming on. A heat I had not felt for a long, long time was now pulsing its intensity between my legs. The fire of the alcohol in my blood was working its madness through my veins and amplifying my arousal.

As he began to slip his hand up my inner thigh, he hesitated. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, panting with the force of his own arousal.

“Don't stop,” I hissed. “Whatever you do, don't you dare stop. I want this. I want you, Emerson.”

He stared directly into my eyes with a gaze that could have liquefied steel, and then he kissed me again, deeply and passionately. I had never been kissed with such emotion. His hand slid into my panties and I shuddered. “Oh, my God, you're so wet,” his voice was husky through our kissing.

I gripped his wrist as he started to move his fingers up and down, rubbing and caressing in a slow, even rhythm. A steadily-building tsunami of pleasure began growing with each deft stroke of his fingers. I slid my hand into his underwear and gripped what I found: the full, throbbing hardness of his own arousal. I started to move my hand in rhythm with how he was working my body until he started to gasp and moan as we kissed.

I managed to pull my lips from his for just long enough to speak. “My room, now,” I ordered.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I stood and hurried to my room as he padded along behind me. As soon as he was inside, I pushed the door shut, stripped my dress off, and stood before him in only my panties.

“My God, you're gorgeous,” he exhaled. “You're so utterly, utterly beautiful.”

“So are you,” I breathed as I made my way toward him. The wine was pounding its roaring arousal through me with hurricane force. I stood before him and slid my panties to the floor. I traced a line down his abs until I locked a finger in the band of his briefs and helped him out of them.

I fell back on my bed and pulled him on top of me. He immediately resumed trailing kisses over my body. As he did, I fumbled around in my bedside drawer, desperately seeking a certain little item I knew to be there. In a moment of triumph, my fingers found it.

Emerson threw my legs over his broad shoulders, grabbing each of my thighs as he spread my legs wide. His mouth was on me with no hesitation, tongue flicking over every inch of my most private flesh. I arched my back, tossing my head back and forth, moaning with pleasure. My breathing surged violently. My hips bucked up to meet his talented mouth in rhythm with the pulse rushing through me. It had been an eternity since I'd orgasmed so strongly; my whole body was shaking.

Finally, I couldn't wait any more. “Here,” I said, breathing heavily as I pulled his head up from between my legs and thrust the condom into his hands. “I need to feel you inside me. Now.”

He gasped, pausing in his enthusiastic bout of running his mouth up my stomach. He ripped open the wrapper with his teeth and slipped the condom out, rolling it over his cock with expert speed and fluidity. He positioned himself over me and started to slide his hard shaft into me. I was wet and ready, but even so, it had been a long time and I felt a sliver of pain spark through me.

“Oh, oh God, wait, slowly, slowly…”

“Damn, you're tight,” he gasped. Emerson gradually slid inside, causing my eyes to roll back into my head. I was losing my mind with freshly awakened passion, each soft thrust sending bouts of pleasure rippling through me. He kissed me with slow, languid pleasure while, in contrast, he had a firm grip on my hips as he pushed into me in complete control, sinking deep into me over and over, relentlessly.

“Please, Emerson,” I cried into his ear. “More. Please.”

He pressed his body against mine and surged in and out of my wetness, faster and harder, just as I had requested. I could feel the first stirrings of an orgasm as he continued. “Oh God, oh God, yes, yes, yes,” I moaned as the pleasure grew more and more intense. I tried to keep quiet, but it was too much. It felt too good.

He was thrusting madly now--almost with a speed that seemed beyond humanly possible–and that's when my orgasm started to tear through my body, sending convulsions of raw bliss and ecstasy through my every extremity.