Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
CLEO
I am used to having sex with random men; hell, I made it my mission so that I would not get attached to another man again, but being manhandled by War sets off a whole box of fireworks inside my body. Every nerve seems to know that it is him touching me.
His kisses are addictive.
The way that he rocks his hips has the knot of his jumpsuit pressing into my stomach, as his hard cock rubs against my lace panties.
I pant into the kiss. My body is falling into his like it has done so a million times before. Why does it feel different with him? I push the thought away, keeping in mind that this is a one-night thing; I will never see War again when I leave.
A barb of pain hits my chest but I moan, pressing my body tighter to his to push the emotion away.
I am here for hot biker sex and that is it.
No way will I ever let a man rule me again.
“Fuck, I need to see if you taste this good everywhere,” he growls against my mouth.
“Then do it. On your knees, War,” I demand, expecting him to tell me to fuck off, but to my shock, he winks, lowering my feet to the ground before dropping to his knees.
Holy shit.
Now that is sexy.
His big green eyes are filled with desire for me, and his nostrils flare as he slips my satin skirt up my thighs.
“Hold it for me, baby. I need my hands for what I am about to do to you.”
“Oh God,” I whimper at his words.
Desire, lust, and anticipation speed through my veins like a wildfire.
I press a hand to my stomach, holding the smooth material of my skirt against my body. My other hand is flat against the wall that is currently keeping me from falling over.
With my gaze solely on him, he leans forward, his face in the juncture of my thighs, breathing deeply then growling, sending a wave of tingles through my lower body.
Nothing has ever been more erotic than this moment right here— having this big, badass biker on his knees ready to pleasure me.
Watching this man on his knees for me makes me feel powerful and feminine at the same time. I can’t imagine a man like War getting on his knees for all or any woman he fucks, or in this case, eats out.
“You smell fucking delicious, Cleo, but I need more.” He dives back in.
His hands move up my thighs, his thumb rubbing against my clit, no doubt feeling the damp spot. He looks up at me, and I see mischief mixed with wicked desire in his eyes, then he winks, right before I hear the sound of material ripping.
He fucking ripped my tights!
“Mmm, now that is better. Now I can taste you. Have you on my tongue all fucking night.” I do not get to respond, since he dives right back in. Licking, sucking, and nipping at my clit.
I am a ball of panting, breathy mess.
“Oh shit, War. More.”
I feel his chuckle against me, before he slips a finger deep into my pussy, and I cry out his name.
It has been so fucking long since I have been with a man, with me focused on my job; so, feeling alive right now, feeling what this man is doing to me will be leaving a lasting impression on me, no doubt.
He adds a second finger and sucks hard on my clit and that is it. I am done. I come.
“Fuck, I am coming.” My eyes spring open as the sensation is like an explosion going off inside of me.
My body locks up, blood whooshing through my ears, and everything except War fades as my climax takes over.
With a shuddering breath, I come back to reality, my euphoria still lingering in the background as War gets to his feet.
He wastes no time, kissing me.
My cum coating his lips and tongue, I lap at his mouth, needing to taste myself on him.
“Damn, you taste good, like I knew you would. Been fucking teasing me all night with your sexy dance moves. You can grind this ass down on my face later.”
“Later?” I question, making him smirk.
He brings his mouth to mine, while his hand goes to my pussy, his fingers toying with my hole and clit, making me whimper against his mouth.
“I am not done with you yet.”
“What do you plan on doing to me?” I ask him.
He steps away, correcting my skirt before taking my hand.
When he doesn’t say anything, I let it go and willingly go with him. There is a part of me that is telling me not to go into a room with him because I do not know him from Adam, but there is also a part of me that is saying I am safe with him.
Not once have I gotten a bad feeling from him, and if Lottie did not trust him, I believe she would have warned us away.
We walk around the side of the clubhouse, the music still thumping inside. I follow him through a side door and down a hallway, and we stop at a room. He opens it with his thumb, and I smile at how high-tech the club is.
Safety is a factor here. Clearly.
The room is clean, which surprises me, and I giggle.
“What are you giggling about?” His hands snake around my waist, pulling me close to him.
His lips find my neck, and he kisses before he nips at me, making my knees weak.
“I was thinking how clean your room is. Did you have one of your club girls clean it so anyone you picked up tonight wouldn’t be grossed out?” I rock my ass into his hard cock, making him growl.
“Lottie had the rooms cleaned for guests. I have not touched any woman in weeks.”
A flash of jealousy rushes through me, not liking the idea of him being with another woman.
Stupid, I know, but the feeling takes a hold of me.
I go to step away, but he grips me tighter.
“Nope. Not fucking happening. Clear your head; it will be you riding my cock, no one else. It will be my cock filling you up so fucking good that you will be feeling me for days.”
“Then show me,” I purr.
That makes him move.
We are stripped out of our clothes so fast my head spins but damn, what a fucking sight I see before me.
War is all fucking muscles and tattoos. Both arms are covered in intricate designs that span across his chest and over his shoulders.
“Fuck me, you are hot.” I step to him, my hands going to his chest. His eyes close and he breathes deeply.
I watch as his body tenses. His nostrils flare, and I get the feeling that this is something big for him, both mentally and physically.
“We do not have to do this, War.” My voice is quiet.
Never would I force a man to be with me. It is not that I think he does not find me attractive—very recent events have made that perfectly clear—but this feels like he is struggling with something deeper.
There’s a fragility in the way he stands in front of me now, with a tremor in his breath. My hands linger on his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating. Tonight is about trust and choice.
His eyes open, and he holds my gaze, raw and exposed. What happened to him?
He inhales deeply, looking into my soul, and he shakes his head.
“You are not getting away from me that easily. I plan on making you scream my name all night.” It is like whatever he was struggling with got buried somewhere, where he can deal with it later.
A thought rushes to the front of my mind and I almost jerk away from him.
“Are you married, War?” Fuck me, why did I not think of that? He is struggling being with me because he has a fucking wife at home.
Something flashes in his eyes and he grits his teeth.
“I am not married,” he hisses. “Now shut the fuck up and get on the bed. On your hands and knees, baby. I want to fuck you so hard your ass jiggles.”
“No wife?” I repeat.
This time he shakes his head, growling, and I am both turned on and a little confused at his behavior over mentioning a wife.
Licking my lips, I assume the position on the bed and wiggle my butt at him. He growls, then I feel the sting of his palm.
I fucking love being spanked.
“You are a fucking witch sent to put a spell on me, Cleo. Never have I wanted a woman like I want you right now.”
His words sound strangled, and I feel that he is still struggling with whatever he was, but I have no time to think it over because he grips my hips and slams into me, making me cry out.