Page 46 of Riding Free

Fuck me. This woman. “I’m over forty years old. I have a little self-control. I don’t need to fuck someone twenty-four seven.”

“You seem to want to fuck me twenty-four seven when we’re together,” she murmurs.

Dancing my fingers up the center of her spine, I tangle them in her hair, gripping the strands there before I tug her head back slightly, exposing her throat to me.

She lets out a moan, her lips parting and begging for my mouth... for my tongue… for my cock.

I look into her face, waiting and watching for her eyelids to flutter open. I want her to look at me. To look into my eyes—to see me. I keep a firm grip on her hair while I wait, and when she does look up at me, my lips curve up into a grin.

She’s sexy as fuck.

“Yeah, babe. Because I’m so fucking into you, my whole goddamn body aches.”

Without another word, I slam my lips to hers again—kissing her.

My woman.

Mine.

Soon, she’ll wear my ring and my mark so the whole world, and the club, knows who the fuck she belongs to—me. She fucking belongs to me. They both do. Keely and Thea are mine.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FIVE

KEELY

Brock releases his grasp on my hair, picks me up, and carries me over to the opposite side of the bed, as far away from Thea as possible. Something I notice but decide not to comment on… at least not right now, and that’s mostly because I want him inside me as soon as humanly possible.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and he slowly lowers my feet to the floor. Tipping my head back slightly, I look up into his eyes and hold my breath, hoping and waiting for him to kiss me again.

I’m greedy that way. When I’m near him, I want his mouth on me. If he notices my heaving breathing, the way I’m panting and silently willing him to rip my clothes off and devour me, he doesn’t comment on it.

Instead of pointing out my obvious distress, obsession, or whatever the hell you want to call it, he cups my cheeks, and then he lowers his head and his mouth is on mine again.

Soft, sweet, gentle, and unhurried. My entire body ignites. Every single nerve ending stands at attention. I am ready for him, silently begging for him and hoping that this slow, torturous pace doesn’t continue.

My belly dips the moment his tongue slides past my lips. He swirls his tongue around mine, and they tangle together. A dance that seems not just sweet, but also erotic in a way that I’ve never experienced before.

The rough, wild man I’ve come to know fades a bit, and this almost loving one replaces him. But I wouldn’t call this love, not yet. We may have a baby together. We may be great in bed together. I may think that I can’t live without him, but I know I can. So it’s lust right now, and I’m okay with that.

More than okay.

In fact, I would really love it if he took off my clothes and consumed me right now. He can lust me over and over or whatever that saying is, if it’s a saying. I don’t know and I don’t care. As long as he’s inside me, touching me, kissing me, moving inside me, I really don’t care.

Pressing my thighs together, I can’t hold back the moan that crawls up my throat. He swallows the sound, breaking the kiss before he lifts his head. Brock’s gaze searches my own, then his lips twitch into a smirk before he speaks.

“Just you, babe.”

And with that, nothing else needs to be said. Because… just you, babe, makes my entire body melt. I’m ready for him. He doesn’t even have to work me up… I. Am. Primed.

So damn primed.

Thankfully, he puts me out of my misery, or at least begins to. He reaches for the hem of my tank and peels it up my body. Without wasting even a second, I reach behind me and unhook my bra, letting the straps slide down my arms.

Brock’s gaze flicks from mine to my bare breasts, and I watch as his eyes heat and his nostrils flare. Okay. So obviously, he’s seen a lot of boobs. I mean, Honey was just hanging out with her tits out not too long ago. But he’s looking at mine like he’s ready to devour me, and I’m good with that.

Because that is exactly what I want from him—devour me, please and thank you.