Reaper's Stand (Reapers MC, #4)(44)
Reese switched to my other breast, and somehow I regained enough awareness to reach down between us and cup his hard length.
His cock.
I liked the word, I really did. I liked it a lot and I liked the fact that I was free to use it as much as I wanted. I wanted to see more of it, too.
“I want your cock,” I managed to whisper, and Reese froze.
Then things changed.
Before he’d been restrained, if not gentle. Yeah, that was over now. Within seconds he had me flipped over on my stomach, and then I felt my shorts ripping down my body. I’m not quite sure what happened to my panties, but a heartbeat later his hand came under my stomach, lifting me to my knees.
I barely had time to catch my breath before I felt the head of his erection at my entrance. Not for long, though. He thrust in—hard—which was more than a little startling because I hadn’t seen any real action for years.
“Holy crap,” I grunted, and he stilled, letting me grow used to the feel of him deep inside. I felt pinned, impaled . . . vulnerable. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Believe it,” he muttered, fingers finding my clit again. He toyed with it and I squirmed, squeezing down on him every time he found just the right spot.
“Fuck . . .” he groaned. Then his hips pulled back and he started moving in me. He wasn’t gentle and as he hit home I gasped, because the man was big and it sort of hurt but in a weirdly good way.
Did I mention it’d been a while?
Fortunately, Reese “Picnic” Hayes had magic fingers, because by the third time he filled me, I’d lost all sense of time and space. All I could feel was the pressure building through me, centered on my clit and the delicious friction of him pushing deep against the front wall of my vagina.
My vibrator just couldn’t compete.
Then I had a horrible, horrible thought.
“I’m not on birth control.”
“Got a condom,” Hayes grunted. “And a vasectomy.”
Huh. How had I missed him suiting up? I couldn’t feel it, either, which was probably because I was so damned wet. Reese caught my clit in his fingers, almost pinching at it, which should’ve hurt like hell but was quite possibly the most amazing thing anyone has ever done to me.
It was enough to push me over.
I gasped, my muscles clenching down hard on him as I came. He groaned. Then his hands caught my hips, which was a good thing because my entire body ceased to function and I collapsed.
Reese ignored my mental and physical crash, lifting my ass up high for his penetration, pumping into me faster and faster as he got close to his own release. Then I felt a renewed tingle of sensation, and realized that I might be capable of achieving the Holy Grail for all women—multiple orgasms.
“Up on your hands,” Hayes told me harshly. Somehow I pushed myself up, startled I had the strength. His hand caught my hair and jerked back. I screamed and reared back on my knees, bracing my hands against the bedstead.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, wondering if it was possible for eyes to literally roll into a person’s head from the intensity of an experience. This time I came hard, no long buildup of sensation or gentle warming. Nope. Just an explosion of lust and satisfaction braced like an animal in the home of a man I wasn’t even dating.
Glorious.
Reese pulsed deep inside me as he came. Then he stilled, my butt pulled tight against his groin, his fingers digging into me hard enough I figured I’d find bruises later.
The thought made me giggle.
I might have a sex injury!
Reese let me go, pulling out and catching the condom. I collapsed onto my stomach, still panting, wondering if I could just go to sleep for a while. Pretend the outside world wasn’t real, and that Jessica wasn’t in the shit yet again.
His thick, muscular arm came around me, pulling me back into the cradle of his body.
“That was very nice,” I murmured, eyes closed.
“Nice? I think I’m insulted,” he replied, although he sounded smug as hell. His hand cupped my breast, casually playing with my nipple as we lay in silence.
“I’m going to be sore tomorrow . . .” I said, yawning. “But totally worth it.”
“Sore? I wasn’t that rough.”
“No, just been a while.”
“How long?”
“Well, my ex-husband left six years ago, when I got custody of Jess, so . . . six years.”
Reese’s hand stopped moving.
“You haven’t had sex in six years?” he asked, his voice incredulous.
I frowned. “You don’t have to say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a freak.”
“You’re not a freak, sweetheart,” he replied. “But gotta admit, I’m surprised. You’re gorgeous.”
I sighed.
“Single moms who run businesses don’t have fabulous social lives, Reese,” I told him.
“Well, glad you picked me to break the dry spell,” he said finally. “You’re not half bad for a chick who’s out of practice. I’d give you a six out of ten.”
I smacked his arm playfully and he squeezed me tight.
“Okay, make that nine out of ten,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head. “I’m holding out the last point in the hopes you’ll give me a blow job next time.”