Chapter Thirty-One
Bianca
The ride back to my house is a blur of electric tension. Every curve in the road, every stop at a light, becomes an exercise in restraint. My hands slip beneath Tank's jacket, finding the warm skin of his stomach, feeling his muscles tense at my touch. I press myself tighter against him, my thighs squeezing his hips, my chest flush against his back. The vibration of the motorcycle between my legs only intensifies everything I'm feeling.
By the time we pull into my driveway, I'm practically trembling with need. Tank cuts the engine, and the sudden silence feels deafening. For a moment, we just sit there, my arms still wrapped around him, both of us breathing hard.
"Bianca," he says, his voice a low rumble that I feel more than hear.
I slide off the bike first, my legs unsteady. Tank follows, and before I can even reach for my keys, his hands are on my waist, spinning me around, pressing me against the door. His mouth finds mine in the darkness, hungry and demanding. I melt into him, opening for him, my fingers tangling in his hair.
"Inside," I gasp against his lips. "Now."
Somehow I unlock the door while Tank's lips trail down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that makes me shiver. We stumble through the doorway, not bothering with lights, navigating by touch and memory through the darkened house.
We don't make it to the bedroom. Tank backs me against the wall in the hallway, his hands everywhere at once. I push his jacket off his shoulders, hearing it hit the floor with a soft thud. His shirt follows, and I run my palms over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the raised lines of scars, the warmth of his skin.
"I want to see you," he murmurs, tugging at the hem of my top.
I raise my arms, letting him pull it over my head. The cool air hits my skin, but I don't feel cold—not with the way Tank is looking at me, like I'm something precious, something to be worshiped.
He lowers his head, pressing his lips to the curve of my breast above my bra. "You're so beautiful," he says against my skin. "So fucking beautiful it hurts."
My breath catches at the reverence in his voice. This isn't just desire—this is something deeper, something that makes my heart swell and ache all at once.
I pull him back up to me, kissing him deeply as I walk us backward toward my bedroom. We bump into walls, knocking a frame askew, but neither of us cares. By the time we reach my bed, we're both down to our underwear, breathless and desperate.
Tank lays me down gently, his body covering mine, his weight a delicious pressure that grounds me. He kisses me again, slower this time, like he's memorizing the taste of me.
I moan softly as his hands find the clasp of my bra, unhooking it with practiced ease. When he pulls it away, his eyes darken, hungry and reverent.
"Fuck, Bianca," he whispers, his voice hoarse with need. "I've thought about this... about you... every night since I first saw you."
His mouth descends to my breast, tongue circling my nipple before sucking it between his lips. The sensation shoots straight between my legs, making me arch against him, seeking friction.
"Tank," I gasp, threading my fingers through his hair. "I need you. Please."
He smiles against my skin, a wicked curve of lips that promises everything. "Tell me what you want," he murmurs, his hand sliding down my stomach to the edge of my panties. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."
My cheeks flush hot, but the darkness emboldens me. "I want your mouth on me," I breathe. "Everywhere. I want you inside me. I want—I need—to feel you."
His fingers slip beneath the fabric, finding me wet and ready. "Like this?" he asks, circling my clit with maddening gentleness.
"Yes," I hiss, hips bucking against his hand. "God, yes."
Tank kisses his way down my body, taking his time, leaving no inch unexplored. When he hooks his fingers in my panties and slides them down my legs, I feel completely exposed, completely vulnerable — and yet completely safe.
"You're so fucking perfect," he growls, settling between my thighs, his breath hot against my core. "I'm going to make you come so hard you forget your own name."
The first touch of his tongue makes me cry out, my hands fisting in the sheets. He licks into me with deliberate precision, like he's mapping every sensitive spot, learning exactly what makes me tremble. When he slides two fingers inside me while sucking on my clit, I nearly come undone.
"That's it," he says, his voice vibrating against me. "Let go for me, baby. I want to taste you when you come."
His words push me over the edge. I shatter with his name on my lips, my thighs trembling around his head, pleasure radiating outward in pulsing waves. But he doesn't stop, working me through the orgasm and building me toward another.
"Tank," I gasp, tugging at his shoulders. "I need you up here. I need you inside me. Now."
He rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a gesture so primal it makes me throb. I reach for his boxer briefs, pushing them down his hips, freeing his erection. He's thick and hard, and I wrap my hand around him, stroking once, twice, watching his jaw clench with restraint.
Then, some idea flashes through my head and I change my mind. Just a little.
"My turn," I whisper, pushing against his chest until he rolls onto his back. I slide down his body, trailing kisses across his chest, tracing each tattoo with my tongue. When I reach his cock, I look up, meeting his eyes in the dim light filtering through the curtains.
"I want to taste you too," I tell him, my voice husky with desire.
Tank groans, his hand coming to rest on the back of my head, not pushing, just a gentle presence. "Fuck, Bianca, you have no idea what you do to me."
I smile, feeling powerful, feeling wanted. I wrap my fingers around the base of his shaft, lowering my mouth to swirl my tongue around the head. His sharp intake of breath is intoxicating. I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, setting a rhythm that has his hips lifting off the bed.
"Jesus Christ," he hisses, fingers tightening in my hair. "Your mouth... so fucking perfect."
I hum around him, pleased by his reaction, by the way his muscles tense and tremble. I work him with my hand and mouth together, alternating between teasing licks and taking him deep, until his breathing becomes ragged.
"Bianca, stop," he finally gasps. "I'm too close. And I want to be inside you when I come."
But I'm not done with him yet. A wicked idea forms in my mind, fueled by the confidence his desire gives me. I release him with a last, lingering lick and crawl up his body.
"I want your mouth again," I tell him, my voice commanding in a way that surprises even me. "I want to ride your face while you make me come."
Tank's eyes darken with lust. "Fuck yes," he growls, his hands gripping my thighs. "Get up here."
I position myself over him, knees on either side of his head, gripping the headboard for support. When his tongue makes contact with my center again, I cry out, the sensation almost too intense.
"You taste so fucking good," he murmurs against me, his hands guiding my hips, encouraging me to move. "I could do this all night."
I rock against his mouth, finding a rhythm that sends sparks shooting up my spine. His tongue is relentless, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on my clit. When he slides his fingers inside me again, curling them to hit that perfect spot, I feel myself spiraling toward another climax.
"That's it," he urges between licks. "Take what you need. Use my mouth. I want to feel you come on my tongue."
His words push me over the edge. I throw my head back, crying out as pleasure crashes through me in waves, my thighs trembling around his head. Before I can recover, Tank flips us over, covering my body with his.
"I need to be inside you.”
Our eyes lock as he pushes forward, slowly stretching me, filling me inch by delicious inch. My breath catches in my throat at the intensity of it, at the way he watches my face for any sign of discomfort.
"You okay?" he whispers, holding perfectly still once he's fully seated within me.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper. "More than okay," I breathe. "Move, Tank. Please."
He starts with slow, measured thrusts, each one driving a little gasp from my lips. His control is impressive, but I can feel it fraying at the edges as I arch beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
"Fuck me harder," I demand, digging my nails into his shoulders. "I won't break."
Something flashes in his eyes — hunger, relief, desire — and he obeys, snapping his hips with new force. The headboard thuds against the wall, a steady rhythm punctuated by our mingled moans.
Tank slides a hand between us, his thumb finding my clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. "One more," he says. "Give me one more, Bianca. I want to feel you come around my cock."
The combination of his words, his touch, and the relentless pressure of him inside me sends me spiraling. I cry out his name as pleasure crashes through me, my inner walls clenching around him. He groans, his rhythm faltering as my climax triggers his own. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep, his body shuddering above mine.
For a long moment, we stay like that, connected, breathing hard, our skin slick with sweat. Then he shifts, moves, and he gathers me against his chest, my head tucked under his chin.
"That was..." he begins, his voice soft in the darkness.
"Yeah," I agree, unable to find adequate words. I trace patterns on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm. "It was."
We lie in comfortable silence, our breathing synchronizing, the world outside this room temporarily forgotten. I feel weightless, boneless, completely at peace in a way I haven't experienced in years — maybe ever.
"Stay," I whisper, surprising myself with the request. I'm not usually one to ask for things, to show vulnerability. But with Tank, the walls I've built around myself seem less necessary.
“I will,” he answers. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
As my strength fades, I reach over to my nightstand, my fingers flicking across my phone to set an alarm just as my eyes close. A sleep deeper and safer than any I’ve ever felt before.
I sleep for hours.
Wake to the sound of my alarm chirping.
And an empty space in bed beside me.