Ride My Beard (Hot-Bites 2)

He pulls into his drive so quickly that gravel flies out from around the truck tires. I feel us slide in them and then hear the pinging noises they make as they smack against the undercarriage of the truck. He practically slams on the brakes and I lurch forward in the seat, jarred by the sudden stop. The seatbelt keeps me in place, but I brace my hands on the dashboard to keep from getting whiplash.

He’s out of the truck and making his way around the front before I can even contemplate what’s going on. I start to unbuckle when Ryker opens the passenger side door and pushes my hands out of the way, taking over completely.

He pulls me straight from the truck and into his arms, not allowing me to walk. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding tightly, and do the same with my legs around his hips. I like being this close to him, and having him take care of me in all ways.

“Ryker, stop. I’m too heavy,” I finally say, because even if I like him carrying me, it is a little embarrassing. I’ve never had a man carry me quite like this. In response, his hand slaps hard against my ass, making it jiggle with each step. He growls—an animalistic noise that sends off a multitude of butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

He somehow manages to get the door opened, with me still in his arms. I get a quick glance of the main room of his home. It’s surprisingly big. His house is attached to his shop, and I didn’t think it would be as spacious as it is. The living room is huge, though sparingly decorated, with just a large black leather couch and a television. It’s open to a kitchen, which is similar in size and full of cabinets and a table and chairs.

It’s out of sight before I can make note of anything else since he’s headed down a dark hallway with me still in his arms. We pass a few doors but at the end of the hall there is an open entryway with a light shining from it. He takes me there and I blink to focus my eyesight just as he puts me down so I can stand on my own.

I keep my hands on his biceps to steady myself and look around. There’s a king size, four-post bed off to the side, and a large dresser across from that with a television mounted on the wall above it. That’s it. There’s nothing else in the room except for a high-back chair that sits directly at the foot of the bed. It’s leather and looks like a chair a king would sit in as he greets his subjects. My gaze darts back to Ryker and a chill runs down my spine. I can see him as a king—a conqueror of nations…a conqueror of…me.

I take a step away from Ryker. I can’t resist looking back at the bed. It’s turned down as if waiting for me. The sheets are shiny silk and jet black. They look sinful and remind me so much of Ryker’s eyes. I look back up at him—anticipating what is to come. He doesn’t make me wait long.

“Undress for me, Lola,” he says, his voice dark and commanding.

I swallow down my nerves. Now is not the time to let my nervousness from being a virgin or my fear of the unknown get in the way. I am Ryker’s. I belong to Ryker. On reflex, my hand comes up to touch the soft leather choker he had made for me. A collar really; I might as well call it what it is. Even in my limited experience I realize exactly what it is. Realize and embrace it. I let my finger dance over the embossed ‘L’ in the center of the collar and I hold Ryker’s gaze at the same time. He looks at me as if he is daring me to back out. Does he think I will? The thought that he might think I’m that weak in my conviction leads me to turn around, giving him my back.

“Unzip me?” I ask softly and then because it feels right, feels like something I should give him, I add, “Please, Ryker?”

I’m rewarded by his deep, throaty growl and I know without even having him say anything that I have pleased him. He carefully unzips my dress, but he keeps a hand on my hip, not allowing me to turn back around. Instead, his fingers dance across the small area of skin now exposed. I can feel the hair of his beard gently tickle me and a moment later I feel his gentle kisses. He runs his lips up to the base of my neck. Again his beard tickles the skin and the sensation spreads a fresh wave of goosebumps on my flesh. My eyes close on their own as I feel his teeth rake across the skin, not biting, merely teasing.