Page 100 of Moto
After the ceremony, we take an abundance of pictures on the balcony, the city backdrop the main attraction.
By eight-thirty, the festivities have ended, leaving just a few short hours before race time and back to business as usual. It was a magical morning, and I’m sad it ended so soon.
“Hey.” Reese presses me against the window beside the balcony.
“Hey, yourself.” I slide my hands up over the front of his chest.
“I’m not through with you yet,” he informs me.
“You need to go get ready.”
“What I need is for us to consummate our marriage. You may have put this dress on, but I’m the one who’s supposed to take it off.” Reese bunches a fistful of the shiny material at my thigh. I don’t protest—I share his desire.
Greedily, he pulls my dress up and over my head, exposing my white satin thong and matching strapless bra. He drinks me in reverently as he slowly sinks to his knees regarding me as if I really were a virginal bride. My breathing quickens as he kisses his way across my stomach, worshiping every inch as he leisurely and steadily moves his mouth down to the apex of my thighs. “I love your body.” I push myself against the glass as he savors me over the silk of my thong. Pressing his face firmly against my damp pussy, he inhales my scent sharply, running the tip of his nose over the smooth material. I tangle my fingers in his dark hair as he ups the ante, throwing one leg over his shoulder before sliding the scrap of silk over to the side. Indulgently, Reese spreads my folds, reveling in what he’s truly after, my tingling pink flesh. He flattens his tongue against my overexposed clit, stealing a gluttonous taste. I nearly buckle as he works his mouth, taking slow pleasure in circling his tongue around the prickly bundle of nerves my clit has become. He strokes and skims and explores my slit painstakingly until I’m moaning insufferably and soaking fucking wet.
“Reese, please,” I pant as I slide down the glass, the strength in my legs depleting. In response to my desperate plea, he sucks on my clit one last excruciating time before he releases it and then rises. I watch, a heaving mess as he punctiliously unbuttons his shirt, and then his pants, revealing the tattooed god underneath. He’s as heart-stopping as a gunshot.
There’s no disinclination as he lifts me off the ground and secures my back against the window. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he immerses his cock straight into my sopping entrance. The contact is heavenly and just what I need. Yearn for. This man, inside me, for the rest of our lives.
With his fingertips stabbing into my ass, we find an earth-shattering rhythm and the soul-searing connection Reese was after. We never break eye contact, as together we dash to the pinnacle. The ache between my legs intensifying ten times over, demanding only Reese.
“That’s it, baby, let go.” I screw my eyes shut and press my forehead to his, with an impenetrable grasp on his face. “Let go and let your husband watch you come.”
The sobering effect of his statement forces my eyes to spring open. The severity hitting me like a wrecking ball.My husband.We lock gazes once again, the two of us possessed by pleasure. Our climaxes collide like a car crash, and I just can’t seem to get enough. I want him harder, deeper, faster, force feeding me every inch of his swelling cock until I bruise. Until it’s only him I feel lingering inside me.
I scream and thrash brazenly in Reese’s arms as I spiral out of control. Spinning and spinning until I finally hit a wall.
I come around, still pinned against the window with Reese breathing forcefully, floating back down from his own high.
“Shit, baby.” His words are muffled. “Shit.” His buries his face deeper into the curve of my neck. Our chests expanding and contracting avidly.
“I’m going to give you the whole world, Kayla,” he vows.
I cling to him, fastening my arms around his neck. “I don’t need the whole world, Reese. I just need you.”
* * *
Race days are insane. Just sayin’.The crowds that flock to these events are diehard. I’ve never experienced anything like it. The energy is electric and the fans’ enthusiasm is off the charts.
I peek out the window of Reese’s motorhome parked in the paddock, fiddling nervously with my heartbeat necklace. News of our nuptials traveled around the world faster than we consummated our marriage, thanks to Reese’s sole Instagram post. A barrage of people is outside just waiting to get a glimpse of me and their beloved champion. But the pressure of the newfound spotlight pales in comparison to my worry for Reese. Race days never get easier. This is my third, and although Reese looks worlds better than he did last night, my anxiety hasn’t abated. Every time he rolls onto that track, he places his life in danger. He pushes his body and his luck. I knew what I was getting into when I said ‘I do,’ but for forty minutes and eighteen laps, I become a devout disciple of God.
I catch Reese zipping up his colorful leathers adorned with sponsor logos. He’s a wicked mix of fighter pilot and walking billboard, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs underneath. By the end of a race, he’s drenched in sweat and literally peeling the graffitied kangaroo hide from his skin. The soft, thin material doesn’t feel like much, but he assures me it provides more protection than it lets on.
I can only take his word for it.
“How are you feeling?” I ask as he stretches in the small space.
“Like I’m invincible.” The leather creaks as he swings his arms over his head. “It’s the happiest day of my life, and after this win, it’s going to become a whole lot better.” He’s such a cocky bastard. But I’ve learned that attitude keeps you alive and a champion.
“Ready to make our big debut?” He reaches out a hand to me.
I take one last peek outside. “No, but do I have a choice?” I bite my lip.
“Nope. I want to show off my new wife to the world.”
“Think your fangirls can handle that?”
“Probably not. But that’s their problem.”
