Dirty Filthy Fix: A Fixed Trilogy Novella (Fixed #5.5)(15)

Biker sex. Mm. Now that was something I’d never tried.

I spent the entire ride up to the twelfth floor thinking about it.

The walk from the elevator to his apartment was short—thank God—and Nathan had the door open in a matter of seconds. He held it for me, and I stepped in, glancing around. But I didn’t get a chance to really assess much other than the fact that there was a large open space in front of me, because as soon as the door shut behind him, the man was on me. And though we hadn’t been apart for so much as a few minutes between the party and his apartment, I was on him the same way.

His lips crushed against mine, pressing into me with urgent, wild desire as he pushed my coat off my shoulders. It fell to the floor, discarded. My mask was still on the top of my head, and now he removed it altogether, tossing it aside so his hands dug into my hair, tangling in my long dark tresses. He yanked my head back and kissed along the length of my neck, down my throat, growling as my moan pulsated underneath his lips.

“I can’t get enough of the taste of you,” he said. “And lucky for me, you earned your reward so I get to taste all of you now.”

Before I knew what was happening, he picked me up and set me on top of a cabinet that sat against the wall near the door. He pulled my legs toward him and scooted my dress up, spreading my thighs apart with his hands. Then he bent down and buried his face in my pussy.

He wasn’t a man who teased, or delicately warmed me up. He lavished me with long aggressive laves of his tongue, licking up and down the length of my slit like he was painting a wall and his tongue was the roller. Wide, thick, bold strokes that wet me everywhere. I wiggled and writhed underneath him, and he hadn’t even touched my clit—just everywhere around it.

I was already halfway to orgasm when he pointed the tip of his tongue and wedged it between my lips, finally caressing my nub, this time with the brush of an artist, his strokes now refined and detailed. The way he curved this way along my clit, and then that. So scrupulous. So precise. So divine.

I exploded like a firecracker my legs shaking and trembling as I tightened them around his ears in a vise grip. I put my arms behind me to steady myself and screamed his name.

When he brought his head up to look at me, his face was covered in my ecstasy. He smiled. “You tasted even better than I suspected from those panties of yours.”

He kissed me, and I tasted myself on him as he fingered me to a second orgasm. This one was intense, coming so quickly after the first. I barely knew my own name when I was done flooding all over his hand.

And I was desperate for more. For him.

“I need you,” I begged when I found my voice. “Now.”

“You’re so greedy.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“Fuck, no.”

He lifted me down from the cabinet. Immediately, he slipped the straps of my dress down my arms and pushed the satin material from my breasts. The gown fell to the floor. I’d already lost my shoes when he’d propped me up to go down on me, and now I was naked in front of him.

I stood with my back straight and let him look at me in the moonlight that streamed in through the large windows facing the river. His gaze both kindled my desire and made my stomach flutter. Which was…different. I was usually comfortable in my nudity. Usually proud and unashamed, and I still was, but with Nathan I was also humbled. He looked at me not just like he wanted me, but like he revered me. Like he adored me. Like he respected me.

I didn’t know how to feel about that.

I didn’t want to feel anything about it.

I wanted to feel naughty and kinky instead, so I ignored the flip of my stomach and tugged at his tie, pulling him farther into the apartment.

It was hard to focus on much other than the amazing, attractive man in front of me, but I was aware enough to recognize he lived in a studio, big and open. I spotted his bed on the other side of the room. It looked far away.

Too far away.

Nathan seemed to be on the same page. He pulled me instead to a drafting table nearby. He swung the chair around and pushed me down into it. Then he began stripping off his jacket while I worked on his zipper, eager to have his cock out, desperate to touch him and feel him, and see more than just the very tip that I’d spied across the circle in the game earlier in the evening.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear either, and even after everything else, even naked, fresh off two orgasms, the knowledge that he’d been freeballing wound new tension inside me.

Then I got a good look at him—at all of him—and the excitement twining inside me doubled. He was magnificent. Thick. Long. Built like a stallion. He probably intimidated some women with his size.

I was about to be a very lucky girl.

I stroked my hand along his length, purring as I did. “I can’t believe you hid this,” I admonished. “This cock deserves to be sucked and licked and praised.”

“Made to be fucked?” he asked, bucking into my hands. “Made to get lost inside your pussy?”

I bit my lip. “Mm-hm.” It was the best I could do, the only sound I could utter. I was so desperate, so in want of him.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

I scrambled up to my knees and turned to brace my elbows on the drafting table, then looked back at him to see if I’d done what he’d meant. He was digging a condom from his wallet. I watched, riveted, as he unrolled it over his cock.