Move the Sun (Signal Bend Series) (13 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Lilli knew she was drunk—too drunk. She’d had too many shots, too many beers, and not nearly enough to eat during the day.
She’d screwed up. But she could not make herself care. She felt good. She felt loose. She’d had fun. And she felt really, incredibly, epically fucking horny. She was standing against Isaac, pressed snugly to the hard wall of his huge body, feeling the rough, thick skin of his palms and fingertips on her back, unhooking her bra.

(She was in his house, though;
this was a problem. She didn’t even know where his house was. She needed to focus on that.)

She was standing there, feeling his hands on her,
his mouth on her, his big, hard cock bound in his jeans but still digging into her belly. And then his hands were on her breasts, cupping and caressing under her buttoned shirt and loose bra. Too many clothes. There were far too many clothes in this scenario. She fumbled at the buttons of her shirt, needing to free his hands and her breasts.

His mouth still hard on hers, he
chuckled and turned his hands, grabbing the placket of her top from the inside and ripping it open. The buttons that had still been closed must have held, because Lilli heard a clear sound of rending fabric as her shirt fell open wide.

As she shrugged it off her shoulders, she back
ed away from his beautiful mouth enough to say, “Tha’ sucks, dude. I don’ have many clothes with me.”

(Something told her that she’d said a wrong thing in that sentence, but she didn’t bother figuring it out.)

“I’ll buy ya a new one,” Isaac growled and he yanked her bra off her arms and took full possession of her breasts. “Fuck, you feel good.” Surprising her completely, he dropped to his knees, pressing his mouth to her belly. His beard tickled and scratched as he sucked her skin. She felt his hands at her jeans, opening them roughly, and she canted her hips closer to him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to keep him as close to her as possible.

“God, God, God,” she moaned, wanting to be naked, wanting him to be naked. But his hands were on her ass now; he wasn’t pulling her jeans down, though he was biting at her thong, plucking it with his teeth.
She moaned, feeling a need for his rough hands on her bare skin.

“
You smell so
goddamn
good.” He took a deep breath and growled it out; she felt the rumble of it against her pubic bone. His hands gripped the backs of her thighs and slid firmly down until he reached her boots. “These are badass, Sport. Sexy as fuck.” He pulled down the zipper on one, then the other, and held her hips as she kicked her feet free of them.

Then he reached up and grabbed the loose waistband of her open jeans and yanked hard, bring
ing them down, her thong tangled up in them, until she could pull her feet and legs finally free.

And again, she was naked while he was fully clothed.
But his hands were on her, finally. He pushed her roughly against the door—Jesus, they were still standing in his front hall—and lifted her right leg to hook it over his shoulder, spreading her wide. He ran his fingers back and forth through her folds, over her clit, and she couldn’t shut up, she couldn’t hold still. She had her hands yet knotted in his hair, and she pulled, trying to bring his mouth back to suck on her. With a low, unbelievably sexy chortle, he obliged, his hands wrapping around her hips until his fingers hooked in the cleft of her ass. He pressed his mouth to her clit and sucked it hard into his mouth, dragging it over his teeth.

“Oh, fuck!” Her hips were spasming so hard she didn’t think she could keep standing, especially not with her right leg over his shoulder. But he pushed harder on her, holding her up on the door, his hands clutching her ass. She felt his fingers at her anus then, and she arched hard, pulling away from the door. “Oh, yeah! Oh, do it!” God, she wanted that. She needed it.

Isaac stilled and pulled away. Whimpering with the loss of the beautiful sensations he’d been making all through her, dizzy with drink and desire, she opened her eyes and looked down at him, kneeling at her feet.

He was looking up at her, panting, his beard glistening with her wet.
She still had his hair in her fists; she let go now, and brushed her hand through his beard. He turned his head and kissed her palm. The simple gesture made her loins cramp. As they looked into each other’s eyes, Isaac brought a hand around to her front and pushed it between her legs, sliding his fingers slowly between her folds. He rubbed hard circles on her clit until she whimpered, then moved to probe inside her until she moaned. Then he drew his fingers back farther and pushed against the taut seal of her anus. Her hips flexed involuntarily, and she nodded. “Yeah. Please. Please.”

He pushed his finger in, and when she cried out, he stilled again. “Don’t stop. I want more.” He pulled that finger out and went back in with two this time. And this ti
me, he flexed them inside her, back and forth—and he leaned forward again and sucked her clit.

Ecstasy exploded throu
gh her body, and her knee gave, which drove her body down farther onto his fingers. She came immediately, screaming his name and writhing on his face and hand until she was flailing. He stopped and stood, holding her up as her body twitched the end of its release.

“Jesus motherfucking Christ, woman,” he growled.
He swung her, still woozy from the crushing intensity of her climax, into his arms and carried her down a hall. She had no idea where he was taking her, and she didn’t care a whit.

He laid her on a bed, a huge king-size bed with lush cream-colored sheets and a fluffy black comforter. Comfy. Feeling liquid and loose,
she opened her eyes and watched him stripping his clothes off in a clumsy rush. It was cute to see her huge, macho biker man hopping around on one leg, trying to yank his boot off. She squirmed, nesting deeper into his soft, lovely linens.

(
Her
biker man? Was he
her
biker man? Should she stop and think about that?)

He was naked now—so fucking gorgeously naked, with that amazing, beautiful cock standing right up for her—
and her crawled over her with a fistful of condoms. When he was looming over her, grinning at her like a wolf, his long hair hanging around them, she rolled to her stomach. “I want more of that.”

He
groaned, and she felt him shift; then his hand was moving from her neck down her spine to her ass. He pushed his fingers between her cheeks and massaged her. “You want me up your ass?”

“God, yes.” She knew he was big, but she didn’t care. She wanted it. Nothing else would give her what she needed.

“Lilli—are you sure? I don’t have lube.”

She rolled to her back as he still hovered over her, framing her with his arms and legs. Taking the hand that had been on her back, she pushed it between her legs, grunting a little at the sweet pleasure of his touch. “Does it feel like you need lube? Use me.”

He looked hesitant, confused. Shaking off her tipsy haze a little, she asked, “Don’t you want to?”

He laughed. “Do I want to have your ass? Your spectacular ass? Uh, yeah, I do. But, baby, I can honestly say that never once in all my years of fucking women has one ever
asked
for that before.”

She shrugged, unsure whether he was criticizing her or praising her or what.
She didn’t really care, unless it got in the way of what she wanted. Because she was just about vibrating with need. “That a problem?”

He shifted down to his elbows, and she felt him feeding his fingers into her hair. His cock was pressed uncomfortably into her belly. She could think of a much, much better place for it. But he was staring into her eyes, and she settled, letting him have the moment he apparently needed. “You astound me,” he whispered, then kissed her.

The kiss was deep and passionate—meaningful, somehow—and when he sucked her tongue into his mouth, she moaned and arched, loving the coarseness of his body covering hers, but wanting so much more. “Please, please, please,” she whispered against his lips.

With a wild grin, almost a snarl, he came up on his knees and flipped her over. He dragged her hips up until she was on her knees. Then he pushed a hand between her legs, fingered her clit roughly
, and then plunged three fingers into her core. She cried out and arched, loving his intensity. He pulled his fingers back, wetting her cleft, circling her anus.

Then he stopped. “You want me to cover up?”

Her head and chest on the bed, Lilli lifted up a little and looked at him under her arm, upside down. The room tipped back and forth a bit. “Not for this, no.”

He growled and shoved himself into her core. She
tried to care that he wasn’t wearing a condom, to remind him not to come inside her that way, but he felt so fucking good. And then he withdrew, and she felt him pressing steadily against her anus. She could feel his girth already. But she wanted it. This was not something she liked all the time, but now, yes. Oh, yes.

He entered her, moving slowly. God, he made her so full. Already she felt stretched and full to bursting. She could feel the muscles around him and around her clit pulsing, and she moaned.

“Fuck, baby, fuck. This is so good it might well kill me.” He was still moving slowly, and she could feel a tremor in his hands where they held her hips. She pushed back toward him, bringing him into her, to the hilt. They both cried out at that. And then he started to move, rocking in and out, slowly at first, but speeding up with every firm thrust. She could feel his whole body shaking.

God, it felt good. She moved with him, moaning, feeling the tight, slick slide everywhere, in her joints, in her core, in her head. She could hear the high-pitched sounds she was making, like a whine, and she grabbed handfuls of his comforter and buried her face in it.

He stopped and pulled out, and she gasped as the head of his cock left her. Looking over her shoulder at him, she asked, “Why’d you stop? That was great.”

“I love your ass, baby, but I can’t get to enough of you.” He turned and lay on his back, then guided her over to straddle him. “Legs forward, feet on the bed.” Once she figured out what he meant, she did it. And then he guided her down, holding his cock. He
pressed against her anus and filled her the way she wanted again, and she dropped her head back and moaned.

“You set the pace, Sport. And I can get to all your excellent parts.” As if to demonstrate, he grabbed her nipples and gave them just the right pinch. Her whole body clenched as she cried out.

He arched back as she clamped hard around him. “Fuck! Easy, easy. To be in you bare, Jesus.”

She set the pace, moving on him just right to feel full and stretched but not torn. He worked her breasts, her clit, and her core, taking his time as he moved from one to the other to the other
until she was in a frenzy, bouncing on him, no longer caring if he made her too full. Then he slid his fingers into her, pressing his thumb to her clit, his other hand tweaking her nipple, and she thought she’d die. He was everywhere, exciting every part of her.

Her
climax was on her, she came forward, shifting to her knees and bucking on him, her hands on his pecs. Isaac grabbed her hips in a death grip; she could feel the bruises happening, and she could not have cared any less. He was sweating and grimacing as if in pain. “Baby, come on come on,” he chanted.

Another minute or so, and it was there. She somehow felt the need to announce it, “Oh, God, I’m coming. I’m coming, I’m coming. Oh, fuck. Fuck, it’s big.”

He grabbed her ass in his hands and rolled, putting her on her back. The shift of his cock in her tight shaft made her scream. His hands on the backs of her thighs, he pushed her legs to her chest and slammed into her until she screamed again, coming so hard she saw stars.  He shouted, “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh,
God
!” and then he held, twitching, for a long moment, his neck corded with effort.

He pulled gently out of her as soon as he was done and flopped to the bed at her side. They lay together, panting
.

Lilli felt sated and dizzy. She was also quite sore. She needed a bathroom. As she started to scoot off the bed in search of one, she felt Isaac’s hand clamp around
her wrist. “Don’t go.”

She turned and regarded him. There was something in the way he said that, in his choice of words, that
seemed important. She couldn’t figure out what, though. She also needed water; she could feel the hangover on its way. Fucking tequila.