Biker Billionaire #1: A Wild Ride (5 page)

I held myself up above him for a moment, looking down at him, our eyes meeting. I swear, actual sparks flew in the air, just for a moment. I sank down onto his full length in one slow plunge, gasping for breath, mouth quivering as he stretched my tight pussy wide to accept him. God, he was huge. He filled me, and made me stretch to take more.
 

He groaned as I enveloped him, a low, animal growl in the back of his throat, a primal sound that drove me wild. I supported myself with my hands on his chest and began a dawdling roll of my hips, measured and unhurried, letting my folds adjust to his size. He wasn’t even all the way in yet, and I was rising to orgasm already. I couldn’t breathe past the feel of him inside me, and it only got worse when he took my tits in his hands and worked his magic again, twiddling the nipples, pinching, rolling, cupping, and hefting the breasts in his powerful hands.
 

“Am I hurting you?” Shane asked, still barely fluttering his hips, not thrusting almost at all. “You’re so tight, Leo, so goddamned tight.”

I shook my head, sucked in a breath to speak. “No...you’re perfect. Just go slow.”

A lift of my hips brought him nearly out of me, and he pushed toward me, wanting to bury himself again. I sank down, and this time I took his length all the way in, impaled him to the hilt, ground my hips against his. I collapsed against him, crushing my lips to his, my breath coming in shallow pants, sweat beading down my spine.

Fire was roiling in my belly, liquid heat pooling between my thighs, spreading to every inch of my body, coating every pore of my skin with hypersensitivity. He started to move into me, gradual pulsations, gentle pushes. Every movement sent ecstasy thrilling through me, stealing my breath, pulling whimpers from my throat. I matched his rhythm, barely moving in and out; I clutched him, arms around his neck, my entire body pressed against his, our sweat commingling and our breath merging. His lips grazed my shoulders and his fingers dug into my hips and thighs, straining for control.

I felt his muscles tense around me, and then there was a dizzy moment when the room spun and rolled, and suddenly he was on top me, his weight heavy on me but not crushing, his cock thrusting more fully now but not crashing. His mouth found my nipples, and he nipped my erect, sensitive nubs with his teeth, drawing little shrieks from me.
 

“God, you are so responsive,” he said, curling my hair into his fingers.

He tugged my head backward and ran his lips on my throat and down to my breasts in a line of moist, fiery, kisses.
 

“Responsive?” I could only gasp the word.

“The way you react to what I’m doing. Every little thing makes you make a noise. I love it.”

He was moving more vigorously now, drawing himself out farther and pushing back in, and I moaned with each motion of his hips, each delicious stroke of his cock. I couldn’t help the sounds I was making—they were being drawn from me, pulled out of my throat like an illusionist pulling a string of multicolored scarves hand over hand.

“I’m not usually so noisy,” I said, planting a kiss on his cheek, his jaw, and finally his lips.

“Don’t stop,” he said. “I love it. I love the noises you make.”

“Then don’t stop what you’re doing,” I told him, smiling against his mouth.

“Not for anything,” he promised.

He pulled out so only the very tip of his cock was in me, hooked my legs over his shoulders and drew his knees underneath him. The entire weight of my lower half was now supported by his cock and my legs on his shoulders. My hands clutched the comforter, clawing with desperate strength as he started to drive himself into me, slow at first, then with increasing speed. My hips ground against him, and now I was taking his cock in its entirety, the full length plunging in and ramming against my walls, slipping with slick speed back out, only to crush in again, squishing with the juices leaking from my throbbing tissues.
 

My moans were vocal now, not just whimpered breaths, but fully voiced cries of pleasure. He joined me, growling and grunting, a ravaging beast with wild eyes and flashing muscles, sweat-sheened and sensual. He was growing frantic now in his thrusting, and I felt a tremor begin in my thighs, a shaking of the muscles at first. I was helpless to slow my bucking hips, rising up onto the small of my back and rolling my pussy onto him, moaning nonstop now.
 

The tremors spread like wildfire to my vaginal muscles, and up to my stomach, my lungs, my arms and legs, until I was thrashing as if possessed. He was pistoning into me, mouth wide in a building roar. The tremors became an earthquake, and then a tectonic shifting, my entire body convulsing, and still I wasn’t in full orgasm, and neither was he.
 

I was crying out now, louder than my voice had ever gone, and I was completely in his thrall, taken by him, my body brought to an apex of sensation. He bellowed, then, and his cock pulsed and thrust in a hard, staccato rhythm, and I felt him come, felt his muscles tense, and he leaned into my legs. I saw stars then as my own orgasm began, pinpricks of white across my vision, little dots of noncolor spreading out to each other until all the world was white and my body was locked in a spasm, ecstasy so intense and unending and unrelenting I couldn’t even cry, couldn’t sob or breathe or even blink. His cock continued to dive into me, pushing the explosions in my body hotter, higher, more potent. I thought I was being ripped in two by pure, unadulterated pleasure, and still he thrust, still he came.
 

A single thought passed through my mind: I wanted him bare inside me, so I could feel his seed wash through me. Nothing else mattered but achieving that sensation, consequences be damned.
 

Thought was banished then as the detonations rolled through me, convulsing me, and somehow my legs were on the bed and his weight was on me, and still he was fluttering his cock into me, drawing the very last dregs of sensation out of me.
 

My breath came back in a heady, dizzy rush, and I realized part of the reason I’d seen stars was I’d been literally physically unable to breathe, so intense was my orgasm.
 

I heard a choking sound, and felt my chest heaving, and I realized the sound was me, sobbing uncontrollably, bawling and shuddering.

Shane realized it as soon as I did, and immediately rolled off me, cupping my cheek in his hand. “I hurt you, didn’t I?” He seemed frightened of the thought, abjectly sorrowful. “I did. You’re crying.”

I shook my head and forced breath into my lungs, shoved the tears away.
 

“No, no. Shane...” I rolled over to flop onto his chest, and his arm wrapped me into him. “I’m crying because I’ve never...because you just fucked me breathless, you just rocked my world until I couldn’t see straight.”

“Is that a good thing?” He was searching my eyes, still looking worried.
 

“Oh, god, yes. Hell, yes.” I couldn’t figure out how to make him understand what I’d just experienced. “You’ve ruined me, you know.”

“What?” He looked panicked. “I used a condom! It’s still on, I swear!”

I laughed, realizing how that had sounded. “No, I just meant you’ve ruined me for all other men. It’s impossible for anyone to ever do that to me again.”

Shane sighed in relief. “Shit, you scared me.”
 

“Sorry. I just can’t express what you did to me. I didn’t know sex could be like that.”

He grinned and squeezed me in a one-armed hug. “Oh, Leo. You’ve been deprived, then.” He rested his hand on my hip, then cupped my ass.

I wiggled my butt into his hand. I loved how he touched me. And then I worried about how often since I’d met I’d thought the word “love” in reference to him.
 

“So was it okay for you?” I asked.
 

Shane looked at me, incredulous. “Okay? Okay?”
 

He rolled on top of me, and I felt a semi-solid pressure on my belly. I made a noise low in my throat, amazed that he could be ready again so soon.
 

“It was, and I mean this literally, the best sex of my life.” Shane lowered his lips to mine, and kissed me with shocking tenderness.

“You’re bullshitting me,” I said.

He huffed a laugh. “I would never bullshit a bullshitter.”

I reached between us and fondled his growing member, and then realized he was still wearing a condom, limp and sodden. I pulled it free and set it on his bedside table. He cocked an eyebrow at me, then reached for another one.
 

I stopped him. “I’m about to start my period,” I lied. “We don’t need one.”

He hesitated. “I’d rather not take any risks.”

I knew it was a risk, too, but I didn’t care, not in that moment. Besides, if I was already in that kind of trouble, then it didn’t matter anyway. I touched him again, sliding my hands on his slick, come-drenched member. He moaned, pressed his forehead to mine. He was moving his hips subtly, now sporting a raging hard-on.

I pulled him into me, and he still hesitated, trying to pull out. What a man.
 

“I want it bare,” I said. “I want to feel you shoot your load into me. It’s fine, I promise.”

“We shouldn’t, even still,” he protested.

But it was too late. I was grinding into him, stretched and ready for his cock.
 

He moaned, half in enjoyment and half in frustration.
 

His eyes flashed, and then he seemed to make a decision. “If you’re sure,” he breathed.

Then he rolled off me, ignoring my mewl of protest. He slid off the bed, grabbed my foot by the heel, and pulled me toward him. He took my other foot and twisted my legs so I had no choice but to roll over onto my stomach. I looked at him in pretend fear over my shoulder, clawing at the bed as if resisting. He grinned like a feral Cheshire Cat, dragging my ass toward his rigid cock. He let my toes touch the ground, then slipped a hand under my pelvis and lifted me up, shoving a pillow under my belly, low, so it stuck my ass even higher.

I was barely able to touch the carpet with one big toe, dangling half on, half off the bed, precarious and without balance or control over my movements. Shane took his cock in his hand and probed at my ass with it, dragging the tip down my crack, pulsing into my tight sphincter and then lower still. I spread my legs wide, felt his hands dig into my ass cheeks and spread them apart.
 

Then he touched my pussy entrance with his cock, pausing. “Last chance to get away, my pretty little lion.”

I looked at him over my shoulder, eyebrows high and eyes wide. “Oh, Shane, I’m so scared.”

“You should be,” he said, his lip curling in primal desire and carnal humor.

Then he slipped himself in, slow and careful as the first time. He buried himself in me, drove himself to the hilt in the first plunge. I arched my back and gasped, bit the comforter, and already I felt the tremors begin, despite the fact that I was still feeling the aftershocks of the last orgasm.
 

He was resting his hands on my ass, moving just the first few inches in and out, and with each rocking slide I gasped, pushing my buttocks into him. He gripped one hip with his hand and increased his tempo, more sure of himself now that he knew I could take him without being split in half. A dozen strokes in, and I felt an orgasm building and my hips began to circle onto his cock, which he was moving at half speed now.
 

When I was moaning in delirium, he reached under his cock, leaning over me, and found my clit with his middle finger, circling it in wide strokes.
 

“Oh, god, oh, god,” I shrieked.
 

I came, hard. I saw stars again, and felt my lower half convulsing. He didn’t stop, though, and I realized he was just getting started on me. His finger was still moving around my clit, and his cock was thrusting into me, and I was sobbing and moaning into the blanket, trying to rock my hips but unable to move for the unbalanced position and the orgasm rocketing through me, building and building to a higher peak.
 

He started to grunt, long rasping outbreaths, and he pushed even harder into me, and his finger worked my wet, aching button even more furiously, flailing my building second orgasm into a wild climax. I came again, and felt my pussy clench around his cock, tightening onto him, and then he came and all control was lost.

He was slamming into me, and I felt his balls slapping as they pulsed. His come was a hot flood inside me, filling every space not taken by his wickedly wonderful member with viscous fluid. I came a third time, and then I lost the ability to count or think as the orgasms rolled into each other, no longer waves of pleasure or ecstasy but a roaring apocalypse of delirious sensation, orgasm after orgasm, just coming and coming, and I couldn’t even whimper, just hold my trembling, quivering mouth against the scratchy, clean-smelling blanket and let him plunder me at his will.
 

He was bent over me now, breath heaving into my still-damp hair, rough and desperate gasps for air. He was trembling all over, tremoring into me still, involuntary shudders of his cock into my quaking pussy.
 

“If I come one more time I’ll die,” I whispered.

“Then I’d better give you a break, huh?” Shane whispered back.

He moved off me, but I was jellified, unable to move, and he had to catch me, lift me onto the bed.
 

“Yeah, just...just for a few minutes,” I said.

“How many times did you come?” Shane asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t even know. Three? After three I lost count. They were coming so close together I couldn’t even move or think.”

“I’ve never come so hard in my life,” Shane said.

“That’s what you said the last time.”

Shane grinned. “Well, apparently it got better.”

*
 
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We went again that night, twice more, before falling asleep well past dawn. Each time was better than the last. When Shane and I finally collapsed into each other’s arms, we were both spent and exhausted past all comprehension.