Rogue (Dead Man's Ink, #2)(17)

“If I do die, make sure Cade gets my bike.”

“Why don’t you just…not…” She can’t finish her sentence, though, because I’ve started circling my fingers inside her again, and it apparently feels really good. She’s gonna feel a million times better when I f*ck her.

I can’t hold off any longer. My blood is roaring in my ears as I stand up and take hold of her thighs, pulling her roughly down the couch toward me. I still haven’t taken her panties off, but there’s something really hot about having them pushed to the side, exposing her *, so I leave them on. Sophia watches with wide eyes as I push my boxers down over my hips, and then kick them off.

I take my cock in my hand, slowly pumping my fist up and down the hard muscle, shivering slightly at the pressure. It really isn’t normal that I’m feeling this way, but if I don’t get myself inside her so I can feel that perfect little * of hers tightening around me then my balls are going to explode. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, but Sophia’s digging her fingernails into her thighs, causing the flesh under her nails to turn from blushed pink to white. She wants me. She wants me bad. She doesn’t look at my cock, though. It’s like she’s afraid of it or something. Give her a few weeks and she’ll be intimately acquainted with it. This coyness will be long gone. I’m willing to put money on it.

Sliding myself forward, she sucks in a sharp breath when the head of my dick is pressing against her *. She seems a little hesitant, so I use it to rub up and down over her clit, over the opening of her *. She locks up when I move back a little, toward her ass, so I change direction and focus on the areas she seems okay with. When she starts angling her hips up every time I slide myself over her *, I know she’s ready.

I take no prisoners. I’m not rough enough to hurt her, to cause her any kind of pain whatsoever, but her eyelids snap open when I thrust myself inside her, all the way, balls deep. “Oh…shit,” she hisses.

“You have such a dirty mouth.” I fold myself over her, not paying any attention to the stabbing pain that sings through me, and take hold of her breasts through the t-shirt she’s wearing. No bra underneath. Perfect. Her tits are soft and full, pliable under my hands. She may not do it willingly but her back curves away from the couch, lifting her chest, offering herself to me. I don’t need telling twice. I grab the hem of the t-shirt and yank it upwards, revealing her incredible body. Her nipples are tight already, turned a dark pink, flushed with blood. She moans breathlessly when I take her right breast in my hand, palming it roughly. At the same time, I take her other nipple into my mouth and I carefully squeeze it between my teeth.

I’ve remained very still inside her, enjoying the intense reactions she has every time I shift ever so slightly, but now I start to move again, drawing myself all the way out of her before driving myself back in, slowly but firmly.

“Oh…ohmygod.” Avoiding my half healed side, she hooks her left leg around me, pulling me closer to her as I thrust, and the extra force is enough to drive me f*cking crazy.

I can’t stop now. Even if I did split my stitches, I would have to make her come before I could stop this. I need to feel her body seizing up tight. I need to hear the sound of her breath quickening. I need to watch her expression change as the tidal wave of pleasure slams into her.

I’m desperate for all of that to happen, but I’m also a major f*cking tease, too. I bring her so close to climax, having to stave off coming myself at least three times before I can’t take it anymore.

It sounds like her screams are being ripped out of her throat by force as I slam myself into her over and over again, rolling her clit with my thumb at the same time as I f*ck her. I rarely come at the same time as a woman—I’m always far too intent on watching the whole thing play out—but this time I don’t have a choice. She opens her eyes at the last second, dark chocolate irises locked right on me, and she whispers my name, my real name, and I’m screwed.

I come with her, our bodies both tense and gripped in ecstasy for what feels like minutes but can only really be seconds, and then we’re melting together. I rest my forehead against her collarbone, panting, trying to clear my vision of the small starburst of color exploding like fireworks.

“So…is Cade going to be claiming ownership of your bike by morning?” Sophia says softly. She strokes her hand up and down over the skin of my back, oblivious to the fact that she’s practically making my eyes roll back in my head.

“The f*cker isn’t getting that bike for a long time yet,” I tell her. “Not until we get to do that at least three or four more times.”

She laughs quietly, and it’s a f*cking remarkable sound.





SIX





SOPHIA





My body aches. Burns, in fact. I want to lie still, to sleep forever, or at least another few hours anyway, but I can’t. An incessant pounding on the cabin door wakes me before dawn, though the loud hammering doesn’t wake Rebel. Seems he can sleep though just about anything. Unsurprising, given how late he stayed up last night, how much morphine he had in his system and how energetic he’d been when he’d pinned me to the couch and f*cked me. I’d had to spot him as he weaved his way back across the other side of the cabin, and then he’d pulled me into his bed, refusing to let me go back to sleep on my own. I feel hung over as I disentangle myself from his arms and get up, pulling my t-shirt down to cover my bare legs.