Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(52)

“One day you’re gonna tell me what he did to you,” he said. “But only when you’re ready.”

Naiya dropped her hand, ready to go, but Holt didn’t step back. Instead he leaned forward and traced his tongue over her lower lip. Her mouth opened, but he didn’t press inside. Instead, he brushed kisses over her cheek, her jaw, and down her neck, cool on her heated skin.

“Shouldn’t we go?” She wasn’t used to a man changing tracks. The men she’d been with would let her take over when she froze up, and a few had walked away. But Holt wasn’t in any hurry to leave, and he was still in control.

“You in a rush, darlin’?” He nibbled her lip, sucking on it gently. Naiya moaned and only then did he move, slanting his mouth over hers to kiss her. His arms slid around her, pulling her into his chest, and he brushed kisses down to the sensitive spot between her neck and her shoulder. Easing the neck of her shirt aside to reveal her bare skin, he bit down gently, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

Hard yet gentle. Firm, but not brutal. Dominant but not forceful. It was exactly what she needed to let go. “No,” she whispered. “I kinda like it out here.”

He returned to her mouth, and this time she opened for him, tangled her tongue with his, trying to push him just a little bit further.

Holt reacted quickly, fisting her hair, holding her in place as his kiss turned savage, hungry. He ravaged her mouth, yet she had no doubt he would stop if she asked, that he would never hurt her.

For the first time since the assault, she felt arousal instead of fear. Excited. She twined her arms around his neck, pulled him closer.

“Been wanting to touch you for so long,” he murmured in her ear as he cupped her breast in his warm palm. “When I saw you with that cop, his hands on you, I almost lost it. You’re mine, and no one is gonna hurt you. Ever.”

When he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her nipple, she gasped, her head dropping back against the wall. How could it feel so good? She’d been touched before, faked her moans when the men she dated squeezed her breasts. Once when Maurice tweaked her nipples in the shower she’d even felt a short stab of pleasure. But never anything like this.

He cupped her other breast, pressed them together, and dragged his thumbs over her nipples at the same time. Naiya bit her lip when her nipples hardened. She wanted more. She wanted his fingers on her clit, his mouth on her nipples. She wanted it here. Now. But it was crazy. They hadn’t thought it through. What if someone came around the corner? Was she desperate? Rebounding from Maurice?

Holt’s hands slid over her bare skin and he pushed her shirt over her breasts. With a gentle tug, he eased her breast over the cup of her bra. Her body trembled as he bent down and drew her left nipple into his hot, wet mouth. Oh God. So good. A moan rose in her throat, and she choked it back, shocked that it had slipped out uncontrolled. But nothing had ever felt as good as the gentle pressure of his mouth, the slow slide of his teeth, the lap of his tongue.

Her body flamed, her * quivering with awakening. No one had ever made her wet. Not since … She pushed the thought from her mind, focused her attention on Holt and his clever tongue, his gentle fingers, the heat and strength of his body …

“You’ve got beautiful breasts, darlin’. Been wanting to taste them for a long time.” He slid one hand between them, brushing it over her stomach to rest at the open fly of her jeans. “Been wanting to taste something else, too.”

Swallowing nervously, she glanced around. She wanted this. She wanted it so badly she ached, and it wasn’t just lust, but the hope that maybe Viper hadn’t ruined sex for her after all. “Yes,” she whispered.

Holt eased her jeans over her hips and she sucked in a sharp breath. “What if someone comes?”

“What if they do?” He slid his hand into her panties and Naiya jerked back, hitting her head against the wall.

“We could be charged with indecent exposure. And Michael is still inside the bar.” Her mind struggled for reasons he should stop, but her body swayed toward him, and Holt’s naughty fingers continued their descent to where she wanted them most.

“Gonna touch you, Naiya. Gentle this time. You tell me if you need me to stop.” Two fingers caressed her sensitive flesh, stroking along her folds, light as butterfly wings. “Don’t worry about Michael. He was torn between wanting you for himself and doing his job. I made the choice for him. I claimed you. He knows you belong to me. He knows I’m the one who’s gonna give you pleasure. I’m the only one who’s gonna touch this sweet *, keep you safe, and make you come.”

She whimpered as he teased her with his fingers, but when he touched her wetness, she stiffened. Not because his touch didn’t feel good, but because she was so wet, embarrassingly wet, like she’d never had sex before. But then, she never really had. Not like this. Not with a man who was focused entirely on her pleasure.

“Shhh, darlin’. Relax. Spread your legs. You’re so damn wet; it’s killing me. I want to watch you come. I want to feel your pleasure on my hand.”

Relax? With a cop on the other side of the wall? Her breast exposed, and his hand down her pants? But, oh God, she couldn’t resist the exquisite sensation of his finger circling her clit.

“Good girl.” He pressed one finger into her wet heat, and Naiya went up on her toes, her inner walls clenching around him. Holt tightened his free hand on her waist, holding her in place. “So tight.” His voice dropped to a husky growl. “So f*cking hot and wet. I’m gonna make you come so hard you’ll never look at another man again.” He drew out his finger, thrust in again. Slow and gentle, coaxing her pleasure even as his body shuddered. She sensed he was fighting for control, fought a moment of panic. But he never changed his pace, never rushed her, and when he added a second finger, she gave into sensation and groaned.