Chapter Eighteen #3
He seals his lips around my clit and sucks, his fingers pumping faster, hitting that spot inside that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
The tension snaps, pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense my back arches off the bed.
Goose bumps pebble across my skin as my body breaks out in a hot flush.
“Shit, Nitro!” I cry out his name, my pussy clenching around his fingers as he works me through it, gentling his touch as the aftershocks roll through me.
“Stunning,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, my hipbones, then back up my stomach. “So fucking gorgeous when you come.”
I’m still floating, boneless and satisfied, when I feel him shift. His cock is somehow now even harder than it was before. He is so huge that it knocks the breath from me.
“Oh my God…” The words escape before I can stop them.
He pauses, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “You okay?”
I reach for him, running my hand down his chest. “You’re just… you weren’t kidding about being big.”
A slow, cocky grin spreads across his face. “I’ll fit, baby. I promise. You’re so wet for me already, and I’m gonna go slow.”
He reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom with hands that I’m gratified to see are shaking slightly. This massive, confident man is trembling because of me. The realization sends another rush of heat through my already sensitive body.
I watch as he rolls it on, and then he hovers over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other guiding himself to my entrance.
The height difference that seemed so awkward before becomes perfect now.
He has to bend down to kiss me, and I have to rise to meet him, and somehow that push and pull, that give and take, feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs against my lips, and then he pushes forward, slowly, carefully, giving me time to adjust to his size.
The stretch is intense, almost too much, but not quite. He’s filling me completely, and I feel every thick inch as he sinks deeper.
“Jesus Christ,” I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders, and he pauses.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” I murmur, wrapping my legs around his waist, urging him deeper. “Don’t stop.”
He groans, low and deep, as he bottoms out inside me. “Fuck, Marley. You feel incredible. So tight, so perfect. Made for me.”
I can’t form words. I can only whimper as he starts to move. Slow at first, shallow thrusts that let me get used to him, but each one hits something deep inside that makes my toes curl.
“More,” I finally manage, digging my nails deeper into his back. “Nitro, please, I need more.”
Something shifts in his eyes, that careful control fracturing, and his next thrust is harder, deeper. “Like that?”
“Fuck yes!” The words come out as a moan. “Just like that.”
He sets a rhythm, powerful and steady, and I feel every muscle in his body working.
The corded tension in his forearms where they bracket my head, the flex of his abs, the way his thighs drive him forward.
He’s so much bigger than me, could overpower me completely, but instead, he’s reading every sound I make, every shift of my body, adjusting his angle.
The pressure builds inside me, building, the way he moves, trying to hit the perfect—oh fuck!
“Oh God!” My back arches, my head throws back as my body ignites.
“There it is.” His voice is rough, strained. “That’s where you need me, isn’t it, baby?”
“Yes, yes, right there!” I’m babbling, coherence abandoned as pleasure builds again.
He shifts his weight to one arm, using his free hand to slide between our bodies, finding my clit with his thumb. “I want to feel you come around my cock. I want you to squeeze me while I’m buried deep inside you.”
The combination of his words, his touch, and the relentless drive of his hips pushes me closer to the edge. My pussy is clenching around him, and I feel his control starting to slip.
“That’s it,” he groans, circling my clit faster. “Come for me, Marley. Let go… look at me,” he commands suddenly, and my eyes fly open, locking with his. “I want to see you when you come apart. Want to see those pretty eyes go hazy when you come all over my cock.”
The intensity of his gaze, the filth of his words, the perfect pressure on my clit, is all too much.
The pleasure crests, breaking over me like a tidal wave. My body locks up, every muscle tensing as my orgasm tears through me. “Damon!” I scream, vaguely aware of crying out his real name, my walls clamping down around him so tightly he curses.
“Fuck, yes, just like that.” He’s still moving, drawing it out, prolonging the waves of pleasure that crash through me. “You’re squeezing me so good, baby. You feel so fucking perfect.”
I can barely breathe, overwhelmed by sensation, by the feeling of him still hard and thick inside me, by the way my body is pulsing and clenching around him in aftershocks.
“I can’t…” His rhythm falters, becoming erratic. “Marley, I’m gonna—”
“Come for me,” I whisper, finding his lips with mine. “I want to feel it.”
His groan is muffled against my mouth as he drives deep one last time.
“Fuuuck!” He moans, his body tense as he unloads, his body pulsing, his entire body going rigid, trembling, every muscle locked.
His forehead drops to mine, our breathing ragged and mingled, our hearts racing in sync.
The way his abs contract with each wave, the way his fingers tighten on my hip hard enough to bruise.
Utterly.
Perfect.
We stay like this for a long moment, neither of us willing to break the connection. Finally, he eases out carefully, and I whimper at the loss. He presses a kiss to my forehead before disappearing to deal with the condom.
When he returns, he pulls me close, arranging me against his side so my head rests in the crook of his shoulder. His heart racing against his chest, gradually slowing to a steadier rhythm that somehow matches my own.
His fingers trace idle patterns on my shoulder, and I’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, so completely satisfied.
“You okay?” he finally murmurs into my hair.
“More than okay.” I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “That was…”
“Yeah.” I hear the smile in his voice. “It really was.”
We lie here in comfortable silence, and I trace the tattoos covering his chest. A skull with roses. Latin words I don’t understand. Dates, names, and symbols that tell his story.
“What does this one mean?” I ask, my finger following the lines of ink across his ribs.
He shivers under my touch. “Later. Right now, I have something else in mind.”
Before I can ask what, he stands, scooping me up as if I weigh nothing, and carries me across the room.
“Nitro, what are you—”
He sets me on my feet in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. The one that overlooks the Las Vegas Strip, all that neon and chaos spread out below us like a fallen constellation.
“What are you doing?” I ask, suddenly aware of my nakedness, of how exposed I am. Even though the window is tinted, even though it’s dark outside and no one can see in, I still feel vulnerable. My arms come up to cover myself. “Nitro—”
“No.” His hands catch my wrists, gently pulling them down. “No hiding. Not anymore.”
“But—”
“Look at yourself, Marley.” His voice is firm, commanding in a way that makes my stomach flip. “Really look.”
He positions me so I’m facing the window, my reflection ghosting in the glass. And then he moves behind me, his hands spanning my waist, his body a wall of heat at my back.
“What do you see?” he murmurs against my ear.
I see curves I’ve spent years hating.
A body that Derek told me wasn’t good enough.
Imperfections, flaws, and everything I’ve tried to hide.
“I see imperfections.”
“Wrong answer.” His hands skim up my sides, making me shiver. “Let me tell you what I see.”
His mouth finds my neck, kissing, nipping, marking me in the best possible way. “I see a woman who’s survived being torn apart and put herself back together. A woman who’s brave enough to take a chance on a broken biker with too many secrets.”
One hand cups my breast, and I gasp. “I see curves that were made for my hands. A body that responds to me like it was designed for my touch.”
His other hand trails lower, and my head falls back against his shoulder. “I see beauty that takes my breath away. Strength that humbles me. A woman I’m falling for so hard it terrifies me.”
“Nitro,” I murmur, watching our reflection in the glass. Watching the way his massive frame engulfs mine. Watching the way his hands worship every inch of me.
“Say it,” he commands. “Tell me what you see.”
I swallow hard, forcing myself to really look. To see myself through his eyes. And slowly, carefully, I do. “I see someone who’s worthy,” I whisper. “Someone beautiful.”
“Damn right you are.” His teeth graze my neck, and I moan. “Never forget you’re a fucking queen. And I’m going to spend every day reminding you of that.”
He turns me in his arms, lifts me, and my legs wrap around his waist automatically. He carries me back to the bed, positioning himself over the top of me again, his fingers gently caressing my cheek.
“So, what does this mean?” I ask, staring up at him, my fingers sliding up and down his bicep. “Are we…”
He catches my hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses my palm. “I want you, in every way possible. We’re doing this. You’re mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice should probably scare me. Should send up red flags. But instead, it makes me feel safe.
Claimed.
Wanted.
“Yours,” I agree, and even as I say it, even as something warm and terrifying blooms in my chest, there’s still that flutter of fear.
Because this feels too good.
Too perfect.
And in my experience, when things seem too good to be true…
They usually fucking are.
But as Nitro pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around, never letting go, I decide that maybe, just this once, I can be fearless.
Maybe I should believe that this is real.
That he’s real.
That we’re real.
Even if it scares me.
No, especially because it scares me.
Because some things, some people, are worth the risk.
Nitro bends over to his wallet to pull out another condom for round two, and I know that…
He’s worth every damn risk.