Diamond in the Dust (Lost Kings MC 18)

Little tremors quiver through my body. His heavy breathing rivals mine. He thrusts a finger inside me while flicking his tongue against my clit. Somewhere in my swirling mind I recognize he’s repeating the tongue moves I used on him.

“Copycat,” I whisper on a harsh breath.

I feel him smile against me.

“Logan, please make me come,” I beg. “I want to soak your beard.”

He moans against my center and thrusts another finger inside me, twisting his wrist, seeking the spot he knows will drive me over the edge.

I’m aching. Hot all over. Desperate need stretches and tightens my nerves.

He continues licking.

The tension snaps, blissfully sending me over the edge.

I fall to the side, collapsing in a puddle of melting pleasure.

Logan sits up and strips my ruined panties off. He shifts us to the center of the bed, stopping to take all of me in. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“What?” I arch a brow. “Turned into jelly?”

He lets out a low, rumbling laugh. “Yeah.” Kneeling between my legs, he rubs and tickles my thighs, spreading me open. Slowly he sinks inside. Both of us groan at the sensation. He lowers himself, kissing my cheek, staring deeply into my eyes. “How’s that feel?”

“Amazing.”

He takes his time, slowly alternating between deep thrusts and slow grinds until my breathing turns choppy. The way he concentrates on my every reaction melts me even further. I wrap my legs around him drawing him closer.

“That’s it.”

He moves faster. Harder. Both of us lost in the rhythmic, frantic music we’re creating. I slide my hands over his shoulders, feeling his strength, the power of his body working to bring me so much pleasure.

All my happy zones tingle with anticipation. My toes curl. Legs shake.

“Yes,” he whispers; his hips jerk erratically, pounding into me. We reach our peaks at the same time, our screaming, growling, roars of release echoing around us.

He continues thrusting, slower now, and leans down to kiss me as he strokes his cock in and out. I wrap my arms and legs around him, savoring every last second.

“Fuck, Shelby.” He groan-laughs against my neck. “I don’t ever want to be away from you again for that long. But it’s worth it if we reunite this way every time.”

We clean up in the shower together and then I lead him back to the bed.

He leans over and snags my poor shredded panties off the floor.

“My pretty new lingerie wasn’t meant for the vigorous activities it just endured.”

He holds up what’s left of the bottom, twirling it around his finger with a smug smile curving his mouth. “I’ll buy you another pair.”

I snatch them out of his hand. “Why bother?”

He shifts his big body over me, caging me in with strong arms and mesmerizing eyes. “So I can tear them off you again.”

“Walmart panties will rip just as easily.”

He chuckles and dips down to kiss my forehead. “Were they expensive?”

“I’m not telling.”

He kisses my cheek before settling next to me. I roll over, resting my head on his chest and stretching my arm over his middle. He shifts, arching his back, his face twisting as if he’s in pain.

“You okay?”

“Just tight from the long ride.”

“Didn’t know you’d be gettin’ a different ride once you got here, did ya?”

His body shakes with laughter.

I sit up and press my hand against his shoulder. “Turn over. Let me rub your back.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.” I reach over and grab the bottle of massage oil I bought, thrusting it in his face. “See, I bought this with the outfit.”

“All part of your plan, huh?” he teases as he rolls over.

“Lordy, your ass is a work of art.”

He turns his head, smiling up at me. “Are you rubbing or ogling?”

I pop the cap and pour a generous amount of oil into my hand. “I can multitask.”

He rests his head on the pillow and reaches for the bottle of oil. “This can be used as lube too.”

“No need for that. My pussy’s like a fire hydrant when you’re within ten feet of me.”

He shoves his face in the pillows, smothering his rowdy laughter.

I rub the oil between my palms, warming it. His body settles and his laughter turns to contented groans as I stroke my fingers over his skin, slowly spreading the oil across his back with long, even upward strokes.

“I wanted to do this for you when you first got here,” I say quietly.

He reaches for me, resting his hand on my leg. “Thank you. Best homecoming I’ve ever received.”

Something about such a simple statement steals my words. I keep moving my hands, slowly increasing the intensity.

“Did you get a lot of work done?” he asks.

“I did. Angelina’s been great. I like working with her.” I switch to shorter, circular strokes and dig with more pressure.

“Will you let me listen to any of them?” He groans again. “That feels nice.”