Chapter Eighteen. #2
“Okay,” he says with a straight face and proceeds to follow me out of the room. His cool demeanor returns shortly after and he makes sure to smack my ass every five steps until we hit the barn as punishment. I’ll have to misbehave more often for these “punishments”.
He pulls the barn door open, revealing my helmet and jacket right beside his. I love that. My grin spreads from ear to ear.
“Hey, where’s your other bike? I just realized it’s not in here.”
“It’s in the other barn with my other bikes.”
“Bikes? How many bikes do you have?
“More than I should,” he says rubbing the back of his neck and smiling awkwardly.
Why’s he being so secretive about it? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I let it go and strut toward my new riding jacket.
I unhook the jacket off the wall and admire it like everything else he’s given me. I love that he color coordinated this. My new jacket is all black with white stripes on the arms, matching the pants. Thick leather padding is on the elbows, and the pockets are zippered with gold. It’s beautiful.
The zipper’s easy to glide up. It’s tight but not as tight as the pants, thank God. I shove my helmet on and jump up and down like a little kid next to the bike, my vizor still up, but threatening to slam down from the movement.
“You goofball,” he chortles. Ben clips his helmet on and joins me by the bike, pulling out little bars near the back.
“What are those?” I point to the silver bars now sticking out.
“Rear pegs. They’re what you’re going to rest your feet on while we’re riding.”
“Cool!” I raise my leg up to set it on one of the pegs, but he grabs the bottom of my helmet and rips the nose of it against his, throwing me off balance.
“Not so fast, sparkplug.” Ew, not his dad’s nickname again. “We have to go over the rules first.”
“Rules?” I whine, impatient and annoyed.
He lets go of my helmet and crosses his arms, taking a wide stance. My knees weaken at the sight of him standing there dominantly. His brown eyes stare at me playfully under his helmet, his visor still up, giving him a mysterious aura as he starts his speech. He holds up one gloved finger.
“First rule. Don’t ever take your feet off the rear pegs.”
He holds up a second finger, then a third and fourth as he counts the rules out for me.
“Second. Keep your hands around my waist at all times. Third. If you want me to slow down, tap my chest twice. Fourth. If you’re having pain or discomfort at any point and want me to stop, tap me three times.
Lastly, riding motorcycles is extremely dangerous.
God forbid we get hit, you need to let go of me immediately and tuck and roll.
You want to protect your appendages and use the padding on your gear. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
He relaxes his stance and mounts the bike, turning it on. The sound’s electric. The pure power thunders into my soul, vibrating my bones and flaming a newfound fire of passion.
“Take my hand,” he yells over the sound, throwing out his left hand, palm up to hold onto while I get on the bike.
The leather on the palm and fingers scratches mine.
“Grab my shoulder with the other hand if you need too, and step one foot on the rear peg while swinging the other leg over.”
I do as instructed, finding it much easier than when I tried to get on last time and embarrassed myself.
Woah.
The vibrations surge through me, its power trembling every part of my body. The power emanating from Dalia’s intimidating.
He reaches back and taps my thigh then grips back on the handle, kicks the kickstand up and walks the bike backwards out of the barn.
He drives slowly down the gravel driveway, easing me into the ride. He’s so careful with me on here. The sweetness of this man is going to give me diabetes.
When we reach the end of the driveway, he puts his foot down, turns to me and slaps my vizor down as well as his.
“Hold on, baby.”
I obey, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist and gripping the seat with my thighs with all my might.
He takes off. The acceleration nearly knocks me back, causing me to loosen my grip. I readjust my hands quickly to secure myself again. I can’t see the odometer, but it feels like we’re going impossibly fast.
Not to mention the rumble of the engine under my seat’s so intense I fear it’s going to trigger an orgasm.
God, this rush would be easy to get addicted to, although I have a feeling I’m already there.
I’m completely in the present moment, leaving the worries of the real world far behind us.
Everything blurs past, the fields, other cars, stores, lights.
It’s like we’re sitting still, and the entire world moves around us, giving us a glimpse of its beauty in quick flashes.
Right as I think I never want it to end, we slow down. Ben pulls over onto the side of the road and turns the bike off.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, releasing my grip and shaking out my hands to relax them. The adrenaline must have masked the pain in my hands and back during the ride because now a stiff pain settles in both. I’ll get used to it; I assure myself.
“Nothing. I just wanted to check on you. How you doing? Are you okay? How do you like the ride?”
“Oh my God, Ben. That’s why you stopped? Baby, this is the best experience of my life!”
“Oh, really? Even better than when I ate you out behind the barn?” I smack the back of his helmet. He smacks my thigh in return, as muffled laughs fill my soul up even more.
“I could ride forever, babe. I love this feeling. If we did this every day for the rest of our lives, I’d be a happy camper.” I wrap my arms back around him signaling I’m ready to keep going.
“Alright babe. You call the shots.”
The motorcycle roars back to life, throwing me right back into bliss.
Though, as much as I was in bliss, after a couple hours the pain in my hands and back could no longer be ignored. I unwillingly tapped his chest three times. He responded that it was getting dark anyways and we should get back regardless.
We arrive at the farm just as the sun sets. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful end to my first real ride.
Ben lets me off by the house to stretch as I walk beside him to the barn to put the bike away.
My ass cramped up during the last mile of the ride, so I need to loosen up my legs.
He quite enjoyed watching me waddle next to him like a cowboy trying to duel someone because my legs were stuck in the straddle position.
I had to smack him in the helmet just to get him to stop laughing so hard because he was bent over the bike and stopped moving.
I hang my jacket and helmet up next to Ben’s once we’re in the barn and wait by the entrance for him.
My face feels stuffy from the helmet and my hair’s frizzy as all get out, but it was worth it.
Hopefully the helmet’s compression helped the swelling in my face from my cry earlier too, so his parents don’t suspect anything.
Ben, of course, looks perfect. His hair’s slicked down with sweat, his cheeks are rosy red, and his abs are outlined in his tight T-shirt. God, he’s immaculate.
He comes up to me and picks me up by my ass, making me throw my legs around his waist and leaving my arms resting on his shoulders.
“Let’s eat. Eh?” he says kissing me, beginning the walk toward his house. I lazily kiss him on his cheek, his neck and his shoulder, teasing him playfully since I know we can’t mess around just yet and he’ll have to wait to have me.
“Oh wait,” I say as we get near the front door.
“I have to get my suitcase out of the car.”
He sets me down on the porch and pecks a kiss to my forehead. “I got it. Go on inside.”
“You treat me way too good, you know,” I mumble to his back.
“Lies. You deserve the world and thus I treat you accordingly,” he yells already almost to my car, not looking back.
Joan and Koa are in the kitchen finishing up dinner when I walk in. I sheepishly cover my breasts to hide the fact I’m not wearing a bra, hoping courage will come on its own to ask them if I can stay here for a while, but right as I open my mouth, Ben cuts in.
The suitcase slams on the floor next to me.
“Charlotte’s going to be staying with us for a while, is that alright?”
“Fine with me,” Joan says, smiling brightly.
“Same with me,” says Koa, smiling at us for a second before his expression turns serious. His chin tilts down, and he stares at us seriously through his eyelashes.
“As long as you two promise to be safe and behave. Don’t break the trust we’re putting in you. You’re under our roof, remember.”
Oof. Awkward.
“Yes, absolutely. Thank you so much. Both of you,” I say gratefully, bowing my head.
I’ll have to make sure I behave myself here. If we want to mess around, we’ll have to do it outside so we’re not under their roof.
Hello, loophole.
Ben kisses my cheek and sits at the table, pulling out a chair next to his for me. He slaps his hands on his knees.
“What we having?”
By midnight I’m exhausted and ready for bed. I kept dozing off during the movie we watched with his parents, until Ben woke me up at the end to say goodnight to everyone and go to bed.
I don’t bother wearing the lingerie outfit I packed because all I intend to do is sleep. We put our PJs on with our backs turned, with the exception of once when Ben peeked, making his punishment an immediate whipping with my shirt.
He shuts the light off and crawls into bed next to me, his warmth already rocking me to sleep.
I turn over to snuggle him, my hands resting on his back, while his arms wrap around my waist. I’m almost asleep when I feel him move, then hear his breathing pick up.
His fingertips skim softly against my skin, almost tickling me, as they slowly work their way up to my breast under my shirt.
“Nuh-uh. We promised we’d behave,” I whisper sleepily, grabbing his hand, stilling it.
“Nuh-uh. You promised. I kept my mouth shut on purpose.”
I just know he’s grinning mischievously at me in the dark at his cleverness.
“You’re right. I did. Someone has to hold us accountable.” I seize his wrist, but not with much gusto.
He abandons my breast and dips below my shorts into my underwear, making me freeze. My brain blanks at his touch. He quickly inserts one finger into me, making circles with it, teasing me.
“You sure are wet for someone who’s wanting to behave,” he whispers against my ear, kissing my cheek as I nuzzle into his neck.
I don’t respond. I can’t. Damnit, I’m so weak. I cave so easily, but to be honest, I don’t really care. Now all I can think about is how much more of him I want right now.
“That’s what I thought,” he whispers gutturally.
He inserts another finger, flattening his palm above my essence and pulses in and out. When he inserts a third finger, it sends me bucking and arching my back from the pleasure.
In a moment of courage, I slide my hand to his pants and immediately find his hardness under my palm. I moan louder than I mean to at the sheer size of him.
“Shhh,” he breathlessly whispers.
I stroke him up and down like I did before over his pants before diving straight in under his waistband. Damn. It’s so incredibly soft. I grip him harder at the base and feel a large vein rolling under my palm on his erection as I stroke upwards. An audible moan escapes from him.
“Shhh,” I whisper in retaliation.
I stroke up and down, unsure if I’m doing it right. Too scared to ask, I grip him tighter then looser, going faster and faster as I inch closer to climax. My rhythm’s erratic as I try different methods to please him.
“Here. Let me show you, baby.” He places his hand over mine, stopping me.
“I’m sorry.” I remove my hand like it’s on fire, feeling immediately dejected and embarrassed.
“Babe, it’s okay. Please, don’t apologize. It felt good, but I want to teach you how I like it. How else are you going to know how I like it unless I show you?” He kisses me, pushing his tongue into my mouth and grabs my hand, pulling it down with his.
He grips his hand around mine, placing it around his cock.
He moves them up and down his shaft slowly, gripping tighter at the top and swiveling our palms before going back down slightly looser.
He shows me for a few more strokes, while never removing his mouth off mine.
Finally ready to take the lead, I jerk my neck back, and bring my hand to my mouth, licking my palm a few times before going back down.
“Fuckkk yes, baby,” he moans onto my skin, his cheek now resting on mine.
Keeping his pace when I’m about to come is next to impossible, but I’m determined to make him feel as good as I do.
“I want you to come when I do,” I groan.
“How close are you?”
“Really close.”
“Me too,” he grunts roughly, his hot breath tickling my skin.
His rough moan pushes me over the edge, and I finish all over his fingers.
Hard. He follows me over getting my wrist and belly wet while our hips writhe toward each other in pleasure.
I shove my face into the pillow to stifle the moans that won’t stop coming out of me.
He pushes his face into my shirt between my breasts to quiet his.
“Fuck, babe. You instructing me when you wanted me to come was so fucking hot. You keep surprising me and showing me things I never expected out of you. I fucking love it.”
I search for his lips in the dark, desperate for his mouth and to feel his tongue on mine.
There’s a different tension between us now.
A deeper connection, like our souls are reaching for each other and pulling us even closer together.
Our tongues glide together slowly as we take our time, holding each other tightly and kissing as deeply as we can manage.
The words I love you are on the tip of my tongue, trying to force their way out.
No, not yet.
I force the words back down.
Not yet.
“I’m glad you like my surprises,” I whisper instead.
“I hope you like the surprises I’ve had for you too, because I have another one for you tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yup. I’m taking you somewhere secret tomorrow.”
Butterflies and a quick thrill shoot through me.
“I can’t wait,” I whisper, nestling my head into his chest. After a while, his soft breaths lull me to sleep while my dreams take guesses at his surprise.