Riding Dirty (10 page)

“I want to, baby,” he said. “I want to touch you. Are you sure you want me to?”

“Yes. Touch me. Touch everything.”

Gently, Bronson obeyed her instruction, slowly moving his hands on her tail and relishing its dichotomy of firmness and yield. While he played with the back, her pubic mound was pressed against him, teetering and pressing against his package. Bronson felt his rod stiffen under her weight and a soft moan escaped Rowan’s lips. The confirmation of her pleasure drew an answering groan from Bronson.

Bronson let one hand reach down, down, slipping between her thighs from behind, feeling through her jeans to map her out. She fit snugly on his hand, and he couldn’t wait to plunge his throbbing cock inside her. The thought of feeling her sheathe him made his mouth water and skin burn. While his fingers spread and played, he let the other hand slip up under her sweatshirt, polishing and warming her skin, working toward the perky mounds of her breasts. To his delight, he found she wasn’t wearing a bra and with a grunt of approval he ran his fingertips over the soft rise of flesh. So, so soft.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, closing his fingers around her supple tits, stroking her nipples until they hardened, erect. Rowan gasped, sucked in her breath, stimulated beyond patience. Bronson reveled in the luxurious, genuine moans of satisfaction that he was extracting from her. He wanted to make her do it again and again.

“You’re so beautiful.” He kissed her lips again, lightly, lingering an inch away and feeling her rapid breath on his face. “So, so beautiful.”

“You can’t even see me,” she laughed.

“You’ll have to come closer I guess.”

His hand had been resting between her legs and now it strengthened into a fist, pushing her up from below and forcing her mouth to accept his pillaging tongue. Bronson steered her hips and torso in closer so he could feel every curve disburse along his body. When she was as close as humanly possible and pressed tight against him, he wrapped both his arms around her, claiming possession. She merged into him and Bronson let himself kiss her with all the naked hunger he felt, limiting himself to the use of his lips and tongue to preview his intentions, burying her in his energy. Rowan gave as good as she got, turning him on with her passion, stunning him with her enthusiasm. Though his erection was full and pulsing almost painfully, Bronson swore to himself that he would take his time and do this right.

No sooner had Bronson promised himself chivalry than Rowan immediately threatened his resolve by ripping off her sweatshirt and arcing her back in a siren shape. The mere sight of her gleaming white breasts in the moonlight excited Bronson’s entire body like something from a dream. She was so, so lovely, and alone in the desert Bronson didn’t even have to pretend to his usual coolness. He hungrily touched and looked at her in boyish eagerness as a wide grin ebbed and flowed across his face, chasing away any exhaustion or hesitation.

Rowan reached forward. With trembling hands, she carefully unbuttoned and unzipped Bronson’s jeans before fumbling to do the same to hers. Grabbing his hips on either side with her hands, she rubbed her pelvis against him, curiously exploring the new texture, kissing his neck and twining her bare arms around his shoulders.

Bronson literally couldn’t breathe for a moment. How was she doing this to him? He had slept with countless women, all of them skilled and experienced, some of them professionals. And here he was turning to putty in a virgin’s hands.
With his fucking pants still on
.

“Oh God baby you’re making me crazy.” He choked on the words, straining against his own mounting need, the reckless crash of his pulse unnerving him. “You’re something else. I want you, I want you so bad.”

Want wasn’t actually a strong enough word for what he felt. Maybe it was the artless, direct way she touched him that turned him on. Maybe it was the novelty of holding himself back, and putting another first. The buildup was killing him and he physically, mentally ached to fuck her. Fuck her senseless. Fuck her sideways and backwards. No, not fuck her.

He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to take his time.

The slow, thick friction through the coarse denim of their jeans was rough, and sent a rush of blood to Rowan’s crotch. She had never felt this kind of awakening, this glowing wetness radiating from between her legs and quivering through her entire body. Desire that made her knees feel weak and her brain heady. It had never gotten this far with anybody else. She had never wanted to go this far. Now, she couldn’t stop, didn’t want to.

“I want you,” she whispered. “I don’t feel like I owe it to you. This isn’t about the deal. I just want to. I want it to be you, now.”

Bronson nodded, but didn’t trust himself to speak, and waited.

Rowan took a step back and kicked off her sneakers. Effortlessly and gracefully, she bent down to untwine herself from her pants, her underwear. She stood completely naked in the moonlight, utterly exposed, and suddenly it occurred to her that she didn’t know what to do next. Of course she knew technically what sex was, but now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure what to do first, where to put her hands. Overwhelmed, she ground to a halt.

Bronson saw her hesitate, and guessed the reason. He moved slowly to join her vulnerability, stripping himself down and facing her, each crevice and sinew of his powerful body dusted with the shadowy light of the open night sky. They took each other in, breathed, ached.

“What—” began Rowan, but stopped. She swallowed, suddenly nervous. “What do you like?”

Bronson laughed and reached for her hand, peering through the dark night at her face. “I like you,” he said, his pulse racing. “I like you a lot.” He pulled her in close and kissed her lightly on the lips, then pulled himself upright. “Come with me.”

He swiftly unhooked a folded blanket from his motorcycle, threaded his fingers around Rowan’s, and led her a few steps down the hiking trail. The horizon was beginning to turn a lighter shade of teal, the moon swelling to its watery zenith. Bronson knew this area like the back of his hand, knew the hours until dawn, and even in the noisy dark navigated easily to a cozy alcove between a copse of sage bushes and a deep curve of cliff.

Spreading the blanket under the stars, he pulled Rowan down to join him on it. When she was sitting next to him she shook slightly, giggled nervously. He raised a hand to gently stroke her face.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said huskily. “I never want to hurt you on purpose. Tonight, or later. You tell me if anything hurts you. I want you to feel good with me, all the time. OK?”

“Ok,” she murmured.

“Come here.”

Bronson pulled her chin close and poured his kiss on her, tangling his arms around her waist and stroking her skin until he felt her tension ease. This was going to be about Rowan, about discovering and celebrating with her.

Surging forward, Bronson used his massive, ravenous body to spill Rowan onto her back. Flat beneath him, she was fully available. He kissed his way down to her breasts, licking and sucking and burying his face in their abundance. He rubbed his thumbs roughly over her nipples, forging a path with his tongue down her stomach and toward her waiting rim.

Bronson kissed around her inner thighs, laughing softly when she shuddered, whispering to her words of praise. He called on all his experience with women as he touched her for the first time, laying his hand gently and possessively over the full length between her legs and watching her gyrate her hips to embrace his hand. Rowan gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth, happy tears springing to her eyes.

“I like that,” she breathed.

She was waxed bare, certainly Lola's doing, her soft skin and sweet taste open to Bronson’s tongue.

“You’re so, so beautiful,” he rasped, burying his head in her. He stroked and sucked at her clit with his mouth, circling and teasing it with his tongue. Emboldened, he rubbed the small mound directly until she buried her nails in his hair and cried his name, shots of fire spiraling down her legs and up into the roots of her teeth.

“Bronson! Oh God.”

Heat flooded his face, but he didn’t stop. Licking with firm, steady strokes, he clutched one of her breasts while he freed his other hand and slowly, deliberately thrust two fingers in to her hot, juicy body.

“Ah!” She wailed, shocked at the pain and pleasure, the realization of her own depths. “Yes!”

“Yes baby.” Bronson licked, thrust, and pinched rhythmically, leisurely enjoying her young body and searching for her most sensitive spots. “Let it out.” He started to increase the rhythm, tilting his head back to watch her. She was so responsive, shuddering and rocking into him, her hips yearning toward his inquisitive hand. “I love the way you feel,” he said. “You’re so wet, so tight.”

She was panting, edging to ecstasy, moaning. She could barely hold herself in her own body, every cell rioting in heat and chaos. “I like you…inside me…Bronson…”

“I want my dick inside you. Feel this? This is going to be my dick.” He drove powerfully with his fingers, giving her a taste of his reach, watching her groan and thrash her head. He shook his head, electrified and eager. “I’m going to make love to you Rowan. I’m going to take you. But first I’m going to make you come. Come for me, baby. Come. Let it go. Let it all go.”

He rubbed his thumb in a circle around her clit, faster, faster, sliding in her warmth and playing her like a guitar. With his other hand, he squeezed and crushed her breasts.

“Yes! Yes!” She cried. Rowan’s pulse was driving through her chest into the core of the earth. The sound of the wind and the feel of the rocks ricocheted through every atom of her body as fire and electricity rushed in a tidal wave, drowning her. “So good, Bronson, yes!”

Bronson’s cock throbbed jealously when Rowan squirted a jet of warmth, her body convulsing in the unmistakable spasm of climax. She writhed and screamed, sweaty, glorious.

“Oh baby,” he groaned, “Yes, give it to me.” He kept rubbing and pushing with his hands and she shuddered again, blind, writhing, rapt. More liquid, more warmth flooded from her. It was like her body had come apart and crashed back together again and again, in and out, each time the alignment more perfect, each wave larger and brighter.

“Please, please, Bronson, please, kiss me.”

Bronson sat back on his haunches and quickly rolled on a condom before he eased himself on top of her, leading her mouth to his. He held her in the aftermath of her first shattering orgasm, sheltering her, and claimed her lips. Rowan clung to him like a life-saving raft.

“Rowan, can I fuck you now?” Before she could catch her breath, he reached down and guided the tip of his throbbing cock along her wet, inviting quim until he found the waiting opening. Poised and ready, he paused to kiss her deeply. “Do you still want me now baby?” he whispered, his hot mouth on her ear. “Can I have you? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she moaned, shivering into him. “Yes fuck me. I want you Bronson. I'm ready. Please. Please yes.”

“Good. Come here.” He held her head tenderly, savoring the last moment before they merged. He reached with his hand to guide his shaft into her, slowly, knowing it would hurt her a little the first time, careful to minimize her discomfort. Rowan screwed her eyes shut as she felt the huge, hot length and width of him penetrating her, slowly changing the shape of her world. Whimpering, she wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands clinging to his back for dear life. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see through the stars.

“You ok?” He asked, dying for more.

“Yes, don’t stop Bronson, it’s ok. It’s ok. Go ahead.”

With a shaky exhale he squeezed himself fully inside her and rested there, throbbing, every nerve on overdrive, as they cried out together.

“Oh Rowan, oh baby, you’re so good. God, yes, you feel good. So wet. So sweet. I love your body baby. I love it.”

Firmly linked to her, his hand was freed to caress her hips, to slide along the length of her sensuous torso as he pulled his cock halfway out and kissed her, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him. Then he pushed back in and started gently rocking back and forth with his hips. Rowan moved with him, dancing to meet him as he resolutely thrust his cock in and out. They pound out the tick of eternity together, flowing in an erotic rhythm that unlocked something in Rowan. She followed Bronson’s lead, angling to keep him inside her, loving the bulk of him, the burning fullness inside. Bronson smiled. She was a fast learner and he took new liberties, straining harder and faster against her softness.

Rowan was so overcome she couldn’t speak, falling back to the primal language of touch and moan, telling him with her body and wetness that she loved what he was doing, loved his body, loved his cock. Her back curved, jutting her breasts against his pecks and providing the perfect hold for his hands on her waist. He slid against her mound, his hips rubbing her clit and his shaft piercing deeply. They angled together, searching.

Rowan’s confidence skyrocketed with each sizzling sensation he gave her, and suddenly she couldn’t stay down. With a wild thrash of need, she rolled Bronson over to his side and used the momentum to carry herself until she could straddle on top of him.

The new angle made Rowan gasp as Bronson’s rigid rod stabbed deeper than ever before, splitting her senses. He was in her g-spot, and a pocket of nuclear warmth burst in her. She could hardly bear it and undulated sensuously, exploring it. Bronson watched the show, thrilling as she pulled and covered his dick, the soft walls of her body rubbing and milking him. They strained together, pushing further, his cock burning and searing her from the inside out. Rowan’s vision was a blur of stars, spasms, and blackness as she ground on top of him, delirious at the inner connection of their bodies and outer friction around her clit.