Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(32)

“Well, now that our romantic rendezvous in the moonlight is over, let’s get going.” She settled herself behind him, wrapping her arms around his body. “I have a bike to fix.” She pressed herself against his back and whispered her lips in his ear. “Or not.”

His body reacted as if he’d been shot with adrenaline, his groin tightening, heart thudding in his chest, desire thickening his veins. To hell with the slow sensuous seduction. He wanted her. Now. And damned if he would wait another minute to have her after that invitation.

“Off the bike.”

Arianne sighed as she slid to the ground. “Seriously, Jagger. This is getting…”

Her voice trailed off when he turned and lifted her, helping her straddle the seat in front him, her hips only inches away from his cock, which was rock hard and pressing painfully against his fly.

One taste. Just one taste.

Arianne tilted her head back, looking up at him through the curtain of her lashes, a smile playing across her lips as she cupped his jaw and stroked her thumb over his cheek. “Well … this promises to be more interesting than taking apart your engine in the dark.”

Fuck. Could she be any more perfect? No screams or giggles. No dissembling or games. She wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid to let him know it.

He tugged her hand away and pressed his lips against the sensitive underside of her wrist. Control. He needed control. His body thrummed with the need to take her, an overpowering primal urge like nothing he’d felt before. But if he gave in to instinct, he’d hurt her, and from what little he knew of her life, she’d suffered enough.

“Jagger?” Her voice caught, broke, and when he looked up, he saw the heat in her eyes.

Fucking irresistible.

Sliding one arm around her waist, he pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his own. Soft. Sweet. Her lips parted and he swept his tongue inside, tasting, exploring, feeding the desire that even now threatened to overwhelm him. Arianne softened against him, her tongue tangling with his as she returned his kiss with a passion he wanted desperately to unleash.

But not here. Not now. The brothers would be waiting for them. But more than that, he wanted to savor her, strip off her clothes until she lay naked and trembling beneath him. His for the taking.

Just a taste.

Deepening the kiss, he cupped her breast and let the soft weight settle in his palm. He kneaded her soft flesh and she moaned, a soft guttural sound that made his cock throb.

“So f*cking sexy.” He broke away and feathered kisses along her jaw and down the slender column of her neck, delighted when her head dropped to the side to give him better access. She tasted of sunshine and flowers, perfumed with sex and sin.

“You ever f*ck on your bike, Jagger?” The throaty rasp of her voice slid through his body like a silken ribbon, tying itself around his cock until he had to grit his teeth against the pain. Wary of the soft press of her hips against his thighs and the potential for a touch that might set him off, he cupped the back of her head with his hand, holding her still. Then he kissed and licked with abandon, as images of her naked and straddling his lap assailed his mind.

Get a f*cking grip. He was goddamn MC president, not a horny teenager at a drive-through. And yet he couldn’t remember ever being so hard or wanting a woman as much as he wanted Arianne right now.

“When I f*ck you the first time, sweetheart,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck, “we’re gonna need a bed, ’cause I want to take it slow. So slow that by the time I slide my cock inside you, there won’t be an inch of your body I haven’t claimed. And when I make you come, you’ll be so f*cking wet and ready, you’re gonna scream my name.” He pulled away and fisted her hair, testing her response to his dominance. “I want to hear that scream, Arianne.”

She groaned and her head fell back, exposing the delectable hollow at the base of her throat. Jagger kissed her lightly, enjoying the rapid flutter of her pulse against his lips. Aroused. Like him.

“Tease.”

“Fact,” he said, although he had serious doubts he’d be able to hold out long enough to do what he’d said.

“What about the second time?” She licked her lips, not submitting to his hold, but not fighting it either. How far would she let him go?

“The second time, you’ll be on your knees and I’m gonna watch those sweet lips slide up and down my cock.”

She slid her hands up his chest, twining them around his neck. “You’ve got a dirty mouth, Mr. President.”

“Dirty mouth for a dirty girl.”

Arianne laughed. “You think I’m a dirty girl?”

He traced his finger down her throat to the V of her shirt, then tugged the garment, exposing the crescent of her breasts. “You’re here with me. Wantin’ to f*ck on my bike. Makes you a dirty girl.”

She leaned up and nuzzled his neck. “I think you like dirty girls.”

“The third time,” he said, reluctant to admit to having any feelings for her beyond lust, “I’ll give it to you the way you want it.”

Arianne stilled. “Hard?”

“Very hard.”

“Hot?”

“Scorching.”

“Wild?”

His pulse kicked up a notch. Jesus Christ. He had to get things under control or he’d be ripping off her clothes and giving her “wild” over the back of his bike. “We gotta go.” He gritted his teeth as he pulled away. “Boys will be wondering what happened to us, and with the Jacks and Axle on the road, they’ll come looking.”