Forty-One
FORTY-ONE
VANESSA
His lips meet mine, slow and tentative. Worshipping. Devouring.
I tilt my head and deepen the connection, hands cradling his face to pull him to my level. Chaos sets both hands to the small of my back, pressing me hard against him, and… oh … yes. He is as turned on as I am.
“You need a shower,” I remind him when we break for breath.
“Ouch.” He smirks, resting his forehead on mine. “Join me?”
This is such dangerous territory. I could argue that, technically, we’ve slept in the same bed already. Even I wasn’t aware of it until after the fact. But showering together? It’s so much more intimate.
“Okay.”
Why fuck around teasing the flames when you can jump right in and get it over and done with?
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I tug his face to mine and place a quick kiss against his lips before stepping away. “Don’t suppose you have a change of clothes?”
“Not on me.” He crosses to the mini-fridge as I duck through to prepare the bathroom, bending to search the interior. “Okay if I have a water? I’ll leave you some change to cover the room charge.”
“I’m not that hard up, Chaos.” Why is this so easy already? Because you tripped right over the damn line of compatibility when you didn’t report his stalking ass.
“It’s not about that, Ness.” His voice grows closer until he stands at the door, one arm slung on the frame overhead. Save me. “I’m being chivalrous.”
I snort. Sure. “Says the man who broke into my house.”
“I never broke in.” He grins. “Merely took advantage of a shitty latch.”
“Sure.” I hitch an eyebrow as I switch the water on. “Just like you broke it when you let yourself in to move the cameras?”
His face falls, eyes widening. “Your lock doesn’t work?”
“I never said that.” Amazing what you can do with a heavy piece of furniture to block an exit or entry in the interim. “But yeah. I need to replace it.”
He tugs his phone out, frowning at the device as he hammers out a message. He almost looks cute, concentrating so hard on such a tiny piece of technology in his large hands.
“Good?”
“It’ll be fixed before you get home.”
“Chaos…” I tilt my head, shoulders softening as I approach. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“But I wanted to.” He snares me by the wrist, pulling me against him. “Can we never fight again?”
“I can’t promise that.” So, maybe he smells like long hours on the road, but I relish the scent of leather. Of wind and rain. Dust and grass. “How long did it take you to get here?” The mix is wholly him.
And I love it.
“Could have done the ride in six,” he murmurs, thumbs tracing the dip of my jaw to my neck. “But I had to stop in Kansas City, so it was more like nine hours from when we left.”
“Temperance?” Surely, it takes longer than six hours for the ride.
“I wasn’t at home, baby.” He bends, ducking to place hot kisses against my neck.
“No?” The steam builds around us.
“Nope.”
I shiver when his tongue traces a line to my collarbone.
“Lincoln.”
“Nebraska?” I lean back, stalling his foreplay before we get ahead of ourselves.
“Mm-hmm.” Lust hazes his gaze as he plucks at the edge of my T-shirt. “I’m gonna need you to raid my wardrobe when we get home.”
When we get home. “Is that so?”
“Tired of not seeing you in my clothes.”
A wicked grin curls my lips as I step back, out of his reach. “Surely no clothes is better?” I tug the shirt over my head, hanging it from my index finger before letting it fall to the floor.
“Woman…”
I tug my jeans off and then stand tall in only my lingerie. “Get your fucking clothes off, Chaos.”
His chest rises with a deep breath, gaze predatory as he dips his chin. “Yes, Ma’am.”
I back up until my ass hits the vanity, steadying myself with my hands to the edge, and watch my guy strip. He takes his cut off first, leaving the room briefly to place it carefully over the back of the cuck chair. His T-shirt is halfway off when he reappears in the doorway; those delicious arms stretched over his head as he discards the dusty cotton. I’m enamored with the way his inked chest moves as he undoes his belt, shucking his boots at the same time so that all that’s left to do is remove his jeans and underwear.
The fucker leaves his boxer briefs on, closing the gap between us in two confident strides.
“I said strip, Chaos.”
He takes my hands, setting them against the waistband at his hips. “I want you to do it.”
“Is that so?”
He opens his mouth, hesitating before uttering a strained, “Please?”
Set me in the boat and pay the ferryman because I sure as fuck just died hearing this man plead for me to strip his clothes away.
I don’t dare break eye contact as I hook my thumbs inside the elastic and push down, wriggling the tight fit over the divot at his hips. Not even when his thick cock springs free or when I have to shimmy the stretched cotton blend over his muscular thighs.
I don’t even look away to lift one leg and hook my foot in the gusset, pushing them to his feet.
He steps free, breaking eye contact first to stare at my bra and panties pointedly.
I respond by raising one brow. Who the fuck is in charge here? “Get in the shower.”
He bites back a grin, turning to grace me with a God-sent view of his broad back and taut ass. Fuck me, the man is everything. I drop my jaw, rolling my eyes back in my head while he’s distracted, and then snap my composure back in place as he turns beneath the spray.
“What now?”
Oh, he is not getting off that lightly. “What now, what, Chaos?”
He presses his lips tight, eyes blazing. “What now, Ma’am ?”
“Good boy.”
His chest shudders at my praise, one strong hand lifting to run a path from his stomach to throat.
I reach behind me to unclasp my bra. “You like that, huh?”
A single nod.
“Words, Chaos.” I stall, cups hooked over my breasts.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
I drop the bra away.
He exhales heavily, tipping his head back and closing his eyes to let the water run over his face. His lips move, yet I can’t make out what he whispers over the hiss of the spray.
“More than six hours on the road has got to leave you pretty sore, huh?” I shirk my panties and step inside the cubicle. “I bet all these muscles are begging for release.” His chin drops, long lashes blinking away the drops of water when I reach forward and grab hold of his impressive cock. “Especially this one.”
“Mostly that one.” The statement growls from somewhere low in his gut, hands moving to slap against the wall behind him.
“I bet you’d like it if I just…” I run a tight fist down the length, pulling blood to the head of his cock.
Chaos exhales, head lolling back to rest against the wall. “Yes, Ma’am.” His voice has gained an octave. Strained. Losing control.
Water cascades over his body, following every tantalizing curve of his muscled chest and abs.
“Does that feel better?” I reach over him with my free hand and angle the shower so it’s not in our faces.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” I stall in my ministrations.
He wets his lips, eyes closed, and frowns. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Chaos shivers, muscles contracting deliciously when I trace the ink on his chest, still languidly pumping his erection with my other hand. He comes apart beneath my touch, and so do I, the warm slickness between my legs from more than the shower.
I indulge, leaning forward to set my lips to his chest, his dick nudging my pussy with each stroke of my hand. Chaos draws a shaky breath—borderline whimpers—fingers bending as he presses his hands tight to the wall.
“Can I… May I touch you?”
The power is fucking heady, a buzz growing in my chest at his request. “No.”
He ekes out a disgruntled sound, eyebrows peaking with his distress.
I drop to my knees. “When I put your cock in my mouth, I want you to promise me you won’t come until I say you can.”
“Fuck…” He drops his head forward, water drizzling onto me from his hair. “You don’t make this easy.”
“Neither did you.” I swirl the tip of my tongue around the engorged head of his cock. “Do you promise to behave?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He licks his lips, eyes sleepy as he watches me rub my thumb across the sensitive tip.
“Good. Because only good boys get to come.” I take him to the back of my throat.
His legs buckle, a foot slipping on the wet tiles as he rights himself.
His taste is fucking divine.
I tease Chaos, alternating between working the head of his cock and pushing him until I make myself gag on his thickness, all the while growing wetter and more swollen myself. My clit throbs with each moan he makes, my pussy swollen and begging to be filled the same as my mouth. Yet I edge the big, tough biker president until the man whimpers at my touch, begging for release.
“Please,” Chaos whines as his cock pulses in my hand. “Let me come, Ness. Fuck.”
I lick a line from root to tip. “Not yet.”
He makes a pained noise crossed between a laugh and cry, head smacking into the wall again.
I work him until the taste of his precum changes. Until his balls draw tight.
Until I ache to stick two fingers in my pussy and relieve the stress I place on myself.
“Baby, please,” he whines, legs struggling to hold him upright.
I reach around and grip his ass to steady myself, bobbing my head in quick passes, ensuring he hits the back of my throat each time.
“I need to… I have to come. Babe, let me come.”
My palm slaps his chest with a loud crack, and I dig my nails in. Not yet. I can get him closer than this.
I can get myself closer.
“Goddamn it,” he moans, palms slapping the wall. “Please.” He heaves several breaths, the rush of air tangling with the slurp of my mouth over his cock. “I’ve been a good boy. Let me come, Ma’am. ”
I pull off for a split second, just long enough to utter, “Now.”
He groans, pressure unwinding with several pumps of my fist. He spurts thick cum across my neck and tits, painting me with his release.
“Look at what you did,” I purr, spreading the mess across my skin.
His pupils are blown out, high on the drug of sex in the air as he gazes down at me. “Beautiful.”
I take one last swipe at his dick with my tongue and then collapse to my ass, leaning against the opposite wall. “Now, watch.” The relief when I push two fingers inside is immediate. A tremor rips through me, turning my legs to jelly as I work myself to climax.
Chaos drops to the floor, his large palms on my knees to spread my legs.
I meet his gaze, locking on to those beautiful colors as my orgasm builds, so close yet not… quite…
“Let me.” He guides my hand from my core to my clit, then uses his fingers instead.
Thicker. Stronger. Better angled. Shit.
I cry out, babbled words echoing off the tiled walls as I come, thighs clamping around his arm.
“So perfect,” he murmurs, pulling free to cradle my head and set a kiss on my forehead. “So beautiful.” My lips. “And all fucking mine.”