Reaper's Fall (Reapers MC, #5)(45)

PAINTER

Fuck, but she tasted good. I tried to hold back and keep it sweet for her, but once she started grinding on me I sort of lost it. In an instant, I had her on her back and then I was sucking on her tits, one hand ripping open the fly on her shorts. I should’ve been gentle, but my fingers found her * like a magnet, thrusting deep inside without any warning.

Wet.

So wet. And hot. Christ, that was gonna feel amazing wrapped around my cock. Sucking her nipple in deep, I worked her, savoring every funny little noise and sigh she gave as my thumb brushed her clit.

“Oh my God,” she whimpered, bucking her hips against my hand. “Fucking hell, Painter. That’s really good.”

I pulled back, giving her a little nip before staring down into her eyes. “You scare the crap out of me, Mel.”

She gasped and I twisted my fingers until her back arched. My dick was thick and heavy, a painful prisoner in my jeans. It wanted inside that pretty cunt of hers in a bad way. I’d planned to get her off before f*cking her, but at this rate I’d blow in my pants. Giving her one last, hard kiss I pulled away.

“Strip,” I ordered her, ripping off my shirt. Then I was kicking off my boots and tearing off my jeans to fall back on her again, catching her thigh with one hand, pulling it up and around my waist. That brought her wet cunt into my cock, the tip sliding through her juices, our bodies in perfect alignment.

I slid back and forth across her * lips, savoring the touch of her bare skin. Somehow I had to get a condom on without losing contact. Breaking off the kiss, I closed my eyes for a second, taking deep breaths.

“Condom,” I grunted.

“I have some,” she told me, and I frowned. Why the hell should she need condoms? And what kind of f*ckin’ hypocrite was I, anyway? I carried condoms all the time.

“I’ll grab one,” I said. No way I’d use a rubber she’d bought for another man. Reaching for my jeans, I pulled out the wallet and got the condom, ripping open the package with my teeth.

“Let me,” Mel said, reaching for it. I let her have it and then her hand was on my cock, covering it with a long, sexy stroke of her fingers. Then I was on her again, pushing the head into her opening.

Tight.

So f*cking tight.

Tight and wet and hot for me in a way that no other woman had ever come close to matching . . . She gasped as I pushed deep, moving slowly but steadily until I bottomed out inside her. Her inner muscles tensed around me and my vision started to swim.

Then I pulled back and thrust again.

I’d had a thousand different fantasies of us together over the past year. In my mind, I’d f*cked her every way a man can f*ck a woman. Twice. I’d always known it would be good—how could f*cking a woman like Mel not be good?—but no way could I have imagined this. Sure, her cunt was hot. And the way she squeezed my dick worked for me in a big way, don’t get me wrong. The best part, though, was the way she looked at me, eyes all big and wide and full of surprised excitement because we were just that good together.

She’d been with other guys. I knew this. And I’d been with a shitload of other women . . . somehow this felt like the first time, though. Like I’d just been jerking off before.

Dropping my head, I kissed her as I pumped even deeper.

This couldn’t last forever, but I wished to f*ck it could.


MELANIE

I’d never experienced anything quite like sex with Painter. It seemed wrong somehow, the way that he stretched me to the point of pain with every thrust, like it shouldn’t feel so good.

Yet somehow it worked—like our bodies were in tune with each other even though our lives were so mismatched. I’d never actually managed to come during traditional sex before, but I knew the instant he filled me that I’d be satisfied. Not only had he prepped me right (God, had he ever!), but somehow he’d tilted my hips so that every stroke brought his pelvic bone up against my clit.

By the time he started kissing me again, I was already close to the edge. The need and desire and craving that spiraled through my body were building, and I could feel it just ahead of me. A little more . . . All I needed was a little more and then all that energy could explode out of me, setting me free again.

I was already hovering on the edge of overload when he reached down, sliding a hand under my ass to roll us over again. Suddenly I was on top and in control, perfectly positioned to take exactly what I needed from him.

Finally.

I’d been waiting for this moment for more than a year . . . Leaning forward, I braced my hand against his shoulders, jerking my hips back and forth, riding him for all I was worth. His firm grip on my waist steadied me, allowing me to focus on one thing and one thing only—getting off.

Then it hit—my body tightened as all that twisted need unraveled at once, destroying me in the process.

“Fuck,” he groaned as I spasmed around him. I felt his dick swelling inside me, pulsing as he flew over the edge, too. “Jesus, f*ck . . . Mel.”

Collapsing down over his body, I let him pull me into his arms. Nestling into his shoulder, I decided I wouldn’t think about what this might mean in the grand scheme of things.

Better to just savor it while it lasted.

With that as my last thought, I fell asleep.





CHAPTER ELEVEN




I woke slowly, stretching out across my futon like a satisfied cat.