34. Anna
ANNA
This. Is. Insane.
Not far outside of Paradise City, you’ll find plenty of roads with long, straight stretches that have minimal traffic.
One route in particular runs right through open farmlands with no cameras, nowhere for the police to hide, and absolutely no traffic at two o’clock in the morning.
Damon and I had a few hours to kill, so we patronized a local tavern that was barely the size of my apartment.
It was clear that we found ourselves in a town where everyone knew each other, earning us more than a few strange glances upon arrival.
Well, it probably had more to do with the fact that we also wore skeleton makeup.
We couldn’t take the chance of being recognized, so we simply lied about leaving a Halloween party and just wanted somewhere where we could wind down for the night.
Since we also weren’t going to take the chance of being shitfaced for our upcoming venture, Damon and I stuck to drinking soda and eating cheese fries… until this fateful hour.
Ten minutes before last call, I have to address the elephant in the room. “You do know what you’re doing, right?”
“Yeah.” Damon doesn’t even hesitate to answer, which should be reassuring given what we’re about to do, but then that ugly, green-eyed monster can’t help but make an appearance.
“Have you done this with someone else?” I know it shouldn’t bother me, but the very idea of him sharing this experience with another woman makes me want to yank out her imaginary hair.
He no doubt sees the look on my face and laughs. “I do have a first-hand account, but I wasn’t a participant. Scout’s honor.”
That only begs more questions, but Damon goes up to pay our tab before I can start my interrogation, and he ushers me out of the booth on his return.
Again, this is insane. Yet, I can’t bring myself to say no. If anything, I’m growing more and more excited.
This late at night, we don’t pass anybody on the roads for the next five miles, giving us the clear.
Damon drives up and down the particular stretch of road he’s chosen several times to make sure everything’s good, and once he feels comfortable, he pulls the motorcycle along the shoulder so we can take care of business.
Despite me still being able to keep my jacket and dress on, Damon plays it safe and strips down to his boxer briefs.
While he’s doing that, I use the tin foil he gave me to cover up the license plate and then slip off my panties.
I can also acknowledge the fact that it’s more than a little chilly out, but the adrenaline seems to be doing something to my system that I can’t really feel its full effect.
Once Damon is done stripping down, he stores his clothes in the small hatch that apparently qualifies for a trunk and returns to sitting on the bike.
He pats his lap, and I instinctually prepare to sit facing forward, assuming this will be a reverse cowgirl kind of thing, but he’s quick to correct me.
I’m promptly spun around and directed to sit face-to-face with him.
Before I’m even situated, he grips my ass, pressing me into his groin that’s already at half mast. And he’s not the only one affected.
I’m throbbing hard enough that I’m pretty sure he can feel it, and it only doubles down on the sensation when he turns the bike back on.
The vibrations beneath me had been fine during the ride, but now with Damon rolling my hips against him that he’s hitting my clit, the motorcycle may as well be one massive vibrator.
Add in his teeth and tongue and lips expertly working along my mouth and jaw and neck, I’m about to lose it, and we haven’t even started moving yet.
Damon tugs down on the neckline of my dress, and since it’s strapless, the fabric allows my breasts to spill out for his viewing and tasting pleasure.
I whimper something to him, and I’m not sure if he can understand it or if he just feels how wet I am, but he braces my legs into the position he wants on either side of his hips and lays me back against the fuel tank.
Placing my hands on his biceps, he instructs me to continue gripping him there once we start moving.
Taking out his cock, Damon rolls on a condom and lifts my hips as he positions himself.
We both thrust into the movement once he begins to sink himself inside of me, driving him deep enough to the hilt.
I’m not sure if it’s from the position or the bike’s vibrations, but Damon shudders as I begin moving.
I start slow, the rhythm steady as I work myself up and down his length, but I go immobile the second I feel the bike rolling forward.
“Don’t stop, baby.” He’s nearly breathless, and the demand sounds a hell of a lot more like a plea that I can’t help but to comply.
My stomach lurches all the same, however, as I watch the streetlights overhead, coming and going out of view faster and faster with every set we pass.
And I realize why.
The faster our pace, the faster he floors it, our rhythm becoming one with the motorcycle.
I rock my hips into his thrusts, my nails digging into his biceps hard enough to draw blood, but Damon doesn’t care.
If anything, it spurs him on. I don’t know how a human is capable of having the muscles and stamina to do what he’s doing with his hips as he drives, lifting himself off the seat just enough to take me from a different angle, but he does.
With the vibration under us, it doesn’t take long for my first orgasm to hit.
Between the wind and the powerful monsters under and inside of me, I feel like I’m flying, vaguely aware of the occasional trees illuminated under the passing streetlights.
The sensation has me arching my back, pulling Damon in deeper. He’s always a tight fit, but this is something else entirely. He works his hips into a figure-eight motion, and where Damon hits me triggers another building crescendo that I clamp down on him so hard he may never leave.
“Fuck!” With one final thrust, his body shudders, and the feeling of him swelling inside of me sends rippling waves of pleasure to seep into every bone and muscle of me.
I’m not sure if it’s from the adrenaline or the vibration of the motorcycle, but either way, it’s the longest, deepest orgasm I’ve ever had. I don’t even know how Damon can keep us on the road. I may as well be made of putty for all the strength I have left.
I collapse back against the fuel tank, watching the streetlights overhead take longer and longer to pass before we eventually slow to a complete stop.
Damon’s mouth comes down on one of my breasts as his hand kneads the other, and I may as well liquify under his touch.
The warmth of his breath, the chill in the air, the chemical rush; it all has my body buzzing, my skin damn near crackling with electricity under his touch.
For the past year, my only focus had been surviving, but what I didn’t know until a couple of weeks ago is that it’s all I’ve ever been doing.
It didn’t matter what exotic destinations Sebastian took me to or how “exclusive” our experiences visiting these places were.
None of those things made me feel even a smidgen of the bliss and thrill and absolute security of being in this man’s arms.
The only uncertainty that threatens this comes from our ghosts who refuse to stay in the past where they belong, and it’s clear we’re going to need more than an exorcist to expel them.