Hot Mess (An Iron Tornadoes MC Romance Book 5) by Olivia Rigal Page A
Authors: Olivia Rigal
Ads: Link
further from my mind now. Nothing matters but the way she feels, how good she's making me feel, the comfort she needs--no, we need.
No words are necessary as my pace picks up, and her hand comes to rest at my cheek as we kiss. While this whole thing started out playful and sexy, it's pretty clear to me what it's become. It's not about pleasure, or comfort, or anything like that--it's cleaving tightly to each other, not wanting to let go.
No matter how much we try to ignore it, we both know what has to happen in the morning, and there's no better way to use the little time we still have than to get lost in each other.
My pace slows in time with the kisses, both becoming more tender and loving as she moves her hands to my back, stroking softly. I reach down, grab her hips, and urge her up to straddle me as I roll to my back. I can't keep my hands off her beautiful, thick thighs as she gasps, her position driving my length deeper inside her.
Slowly, she begins rocking and bouncing, both hands coming down to rest at my hips as she bucked down harder. After a few moments of eager bouncing, she leans down and presses her lips to mine, seemingly helpless to resist the magnetic pull between us. It's as intimate as I've ever been with another person, and it almost feels alien--but it's completely right.
The trembling of her hands, the tightness of her thighs on either side of me, the rapid rise in her breathing tells me all I need to know. She's just as close as I am, and trying to hold back the cresting orgasm rapidly building inside her. Her pace slows further, more rocking her hips against me than anything, both of us entirely consumed with the meeting of our lips and the feeling of simply being joined as we are.
Tonight, nothing can pull us apart.
Soon, the pressure is too much. After bouncing atop of me for a few brief moments, she's screaming into the pillow beside me, her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I pick up the pace immediately, slamming up into her, just as eager to make her shatter as I am to get off myself.
Neither of us wants to break the embrace or our joining, and before she's even come down properly, she's bouncing atop me again.
Over and over, we bring each other to roaring climaxes, completely tangled up in each other.
Only once we can't possibly go on do we slow, and even then, it's not exactly a full stop.
She's lying next to me, panting and gasping, a palm pressed over her forehead and eyes. Wanting to take every opportunity I can to feel her and let her know how I feel, I bring my lips to her side, her belly, her thighs... everywhere soft and warm inextricably draws me in, and I can't help but lavish and practically worship the beautiful woman laid out in my bed.
God knows she deserves it.
* * *
Epilogue
A few knocks on my door startle me from my dark thoughts. The sound resonates through my brain like jungle drums.
"Go fuck yourself," I scream in the direction of the locked door. I wince. Moving my head was a bad idea.
I've been on sick leave ever since Kristal's been locked up.
Officially, I have the flu and excused for another couple of days. Seems the strain has been real severe this year. It takes people a good week to get back on their feet.
My plan is to remain roaring drunk until I have to get back to work and since I'm a mean drunk, I remain locked up in my place.
What I really need is a good fight to release all the anger I've kept bottled inside.
In a perfect world, there would be an intrusion and Pat would call me downstairs to go beat the shit out of some asshole. But Pat runs a tight ship and if hers is, mine is not a perfect world.
Another knock on the door and I watch the handle turn. Fuck, I was sure I had locked the stupid door. I stumble out of bed, ready to confront the idiot who has come to crash my self-pity party.
Can't a guy feel miserable by himself for a few days without someone sending the cavalry?
My murderous rage vanishes the second I identify my
No words are necessary as my pace picks up, and her hand comes to rest at my cheek as we kiss. While this whole thing started out playful and sexy, it's pretty clear to me what it's become. It's not about pleasure, or comfort, or anything like that--it's cleaving tightly to each other, not wanting to let go.
No matter how much we try to ignore it, we both know what has to happen in the morning, and there's no better way to use the little time we still have than to get lost in each other.
My pace slows in time with the kisses, both becoming more tender and loving as she moves her hands to my back, stroking softly. I reach down, grab her hips, and urge her up to straddle me as I roll to my back. I can't keep my hands off her beautiful, thick thighs as she gasps, her position driving my length deeper inside her.
Slowly, she begins rocking and bouncing, both hands coming down to rest at my hips as she bucked down harder. After a few moments of eager bouncing, she leans down and presses her lips to mine, seemingly helpless to resist the magnetic pull between us. It's as intimate as I've ever been with another person, and it almost feels alien--but it's completely right.
The trembling of her hands, the tightness of her thighs on either side of me, the rapid rise in her breathing tells me all I need to know. She's just as close as I am, and trying to hold back the cresting orgasm rapidly building inside her. Her pace slows further, more rocking her hips against me than anything, both of us entirely consumed with the meeting of our lips and the feeling of simply being joined as we are.
Tonight, nothing can pull us apart.
Soon, the pressure is too much. After bouncing atop of me for a few brief moments, she's screaming into the pillow beside me, her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I pick up the pace immediately, slamming up into her, just as eager to make her shatter as I am to get off myself.
Neither of us wants to break the embrace or our joining, and before she's even come down properly, she's bouncing atop me again.
Over and over, we bring each other to roaring climaxes, completely tangled up in each other.
Only once we can't possibly go on do we slow, and even then, it's not exactly a full stop.
She's lying next to me, panting and gasping, a palm pressed over her forehead and eyes. Wanting to take every opportunity I can to feel her and let her know how I feel, I bring my lips to her side, her belly, her thighs... everywhere soft and warm inextricably draws me in, and I can't help but lavish and practically worship the beautiful woman laid out in my bed.
God knows she deserves it.
* * *
Epilogue
A few knocks on my door startle me from my dark thoughts. The sound resonates through my brain like jungle drums.
"Go fuck yourself," I scream in the direction of the locked door. I wince. Moving my head was a bad idea.
I've been on sick leave ever since Kristal's been locked up.
Officially, I have the flu and excused for another couple of days. Seems the strain has been real severe this year. It takes people a good week to get back on their feet.
My plan is to remain roaring drunk until I have to get back to work and since I'm a mean drunk, I remain locked up in my place.
What I really need is a good fight to release all the anger I've kept bottled inside.
In a perfect world, there would be an intrusion and Pat would call me downstairs to go beat the shit out of some asshole. But Pat runs a tight ship and if hers is, mine is not a perfect world.
Another knock on the door and I watch the handle turn. Fuck, I was sure I had locked the stupid door. I stumble out of bed, ready to confront the idiot who has come to crash my self-pity party.
Can't a guy feel miserable by himself for a few days without someone sending the cavalry?
My murderous rage vanishes the second I identify my
Similar Books
