Ravage: Lightning Bolts MC (6 page)

He kissed me gently. So gently. And yet fire flowed through my veins at the slightest touch of his lips. My hands curled into fists. I wanted so badly to touch him, grasp him, claw him. But I had to hold back. I didn’t want to go too far, too fast. I was still terrified of how far he’d want to go, what he’d want me to do for him.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to sink into the feeling of the kiss as his lips pressed a little harder than before. They were firm yet soft. He moved them against mine, then opened them slightly. I shivered when the tip of his tongue touched me. I opened my mouth, and his tongue slid through to touch mine.

I sighed, leaning against him. It was like melting, letting him overcome me. I sat so still while his mouth moved against mine, absorbing the sensations as they raced through my body. The warmth between my legs turned to a heat I couldn’t control—it almost hurt. I groaned, wrapping my arms around his neck without thinking.

He ran light fingertips down my throat as we kissed, and I shivered. Goosebumps rose in his wake. He reached my chest, then dipped into my cleavage. I moaned this time, his mouth still against mine. I thought I felt him chuckle, and my skin burned with passion and embarrassment. I was sure he was laughing at me for getting so hot, so fast. I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t that I’d never made out before. He just had that effect on me.

His other hand moved up and down my back, stroking gently. Everything he did was so gentle, the opposite of what I had expected. It was like he was trying to calm me, get me ready for what was to come. In the back of my mind I appreciated it. He wasn’t just plowing me, the way Mac put it.

And I was ready, no doubt, wetter than I could ever remember being. I wanted him desperately. I crushed my mouth to his, pulling him closer to me, groaning. I needed to show him how ready I was. He didn’t need to be so careful and gentle. Something else had been unleashed, something primal and instinctual. I needed him to take me and make me his, if only for one night.

He broke the kiss with a reluctant sigh. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, his blue eyes searching mine. I could have drowned in them.

“Yes. I want you,” I whispered raggedly.

“Then I think we should take this upstairs,” he said, rising to his feet. He held out a hand for me, and for a split second the voice of reason in the back of my head asked if this was really what I wanted to do. It wasn’t as though I was legally bound to do anything. I could go home if I wanted to.

Then I looked up at him, and the raw lust on his face told me I didn’t want to. I wanted to see where he would take me.

He led me upstairs to his bedroom, and I was relieved to see that it was much neater than the rest of the house. The bed was even made. How odd—normally it was the other way around, with the living area being neat while the bedroom, which few people saw, was left messy.

Maybe lots of people see his bedroom
, a voice in my head reminded me. I tried to shake it off. The last thing I needed was even more nervousness. I was already worked up enough.

But I wanted him. Over all the anxiety and dread over what he’d do to me, I wanted him. I wanted to know what it felt like to be taken by a strong, overpowering man like him.

He came close to me, where I stood at the foot of the bed. The light was dim, just enough to let me see him. To let him see me.

His hands were all over me, but his eyes never left mine. His hands cupped my butt, pulling me to him. I gasped in surprise, then moaned when I felt his erection press against me. I knew what that was all about, and it felt huge. I was a little scared, and my heart beat even faster than his touch had already made it.

He kissed me then, his mouth crushing mine. Yes. This was what I wanted. I parted my lips and let him thrust his tongue into my mouth. My arms wrapped around his neck, helping me hold myself up against his onslaught of kisses. My knees were so weak, I thought I might hit the floor.

His heart was pounding as hard as mine was. I felt it thumping against my chest when he held me close to him and plundered my mouth. Blood raced through my veins like fire. His big, strong hands still groped my backside, sending bolts of electricity through me. I thought I might scream, it felt so good.

Then he pulled away, so abruptly I almost fell over. “I wanna see you,” he said. His arm reached around my back, easing the zipper down my back. I shivered, resisting the urge to cover myself with my hands. When the zipper was down, his hand swept up my back.

He eased the dress over my body—slowly, tenderly, like I imagined a lover would. I thought he was teasing himself as much as he was teasing me. By the time the dress hit the floor, and I was left in my push-up bra, thong and heels, his mouth was open slightly and his chest rose up and down rapidly as he breathed.

“My God,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

I blushed all over. He sat on the bed, moving me until I stood between his legs. His hands roamed over my skin. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, moaning. Goosebumps rose from head to toe as he explored me. The curve of my butt. The curves of my breasts. My hips, down my thighs. Moisture soaked through my panties as he drove me nearly insane with lust.

Then, after what felt like forever, he slid the bra straps over my shoulders and down my arms. I whimpered, suddenly very nervous. Every part of me wanted this, but I couldn’t get over my fear.

“Shh…it’s okay.” He reached behind me, finding the hook, unclasping them. “It’ll be okay. I swear. I wanna see your body.”

I nodded, biting my lip, and allowed him to slide the bra from me. His eyes widened, and I almost sighed in satisfaction when my breasts were freed from their prison. Then he touched them, and my head tilted back again.

He stroked them, played with them, ran his thumbs across the nipples until they stood up in hard peaks. It was almost painful, the intensity of it. Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get better, I felt his tongue swipe across one, then the other. My body jumped, and I held his head close to me almost instinctively. I wanted more.

He gave me what I needed, sucking and nibbling on me. I was lost in pleasure, eyes closed, mouth open. I was conscious of a steady stream of moans and incoherent cries coming from my mouth. I never thought it would feel this good—or maybe he was just really good at what he did.

Without warning, he took me by the waist and nearly threw me onto the bed. I hardly had time to catch my breath before he started stripping off his clothes. My mouth hung open in wonder as he revealed his body to me. The word “gladiator” came to mind, and I dismissed it, but that was the closest thing I could think to compare him to. He was pure muscle, chiseled, his massive arms and shoulders begging to be held onto. My fingers ached to touch him. He slid off his pants and I nearly gasped. His shorts revealed the size of his erection, and I was torn between drooling over it and being afraid I wouldn’t be able to take him inside me. I hoped he would be gentle.

Then he was on top of me, crawling up the bed. Instinctively I spread my legs, allowing him to settle against me. We kissed again, even harder this time, before he worked his way down my body. I closed my eyes, rolling my head from side to side, wanting more, afraid of more, wishing it would last forever.

He licked a trail between my breasts, then down my flat stomach. I gasped when his tongue reached my navel, abdominal muscles fluttering in response. He went lower still, down to the center of my heat. I ached for him, but was terrified.

“I don’t know…” I whimpered. Sex was one thing, but oral was another.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered. I felt his tongue lap at me, over my panties, and I groaned in blissful delight. My body took over, and I nodded my head with my eyes still closed. He hooked his fingers around the waistband and slid the thong off. That was it. I was naked in front of a man for the first time. Again, I reminded myself not to cover up with my hands. I gripped the sheets instead, clutching them in my fists.

He started slow, kissing the insides of my thighs. I spread my legs wider without meaning to, my body taking over again. I couldn’t resist him as his tongue moved closer and closer to my center, to where I burned for him.

When he touched it to my aching, swollen lips I almost left the bed. But he held me down, forcing me to receive the delicious pleasure he gave me. I rolled my head back and forth in total pleasure, moaning, gasping. And he hadn’t even dipped inside my lips yet.

When he did, I immediately started to come. It was too much to take. I tensed up all around him, then exploded. It was incredible, better than anything I’d ever managed to do for myself. I couldn’t believe how good it felt, how good he was. I was lost in pleasure, whimpering, moaning, wanting more but not sure I could take more if I tried.

Then he settled himself between my legs, and at some point he’d shed his shorts.

“Wait,” I asked, looking down. “I don’t know about this.”

“I’ll go slow,” he panted. I knew he was dying for release by then.

“Can we turn out the lights, please?”

“Why?” He pulled back, puzzled.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just feel like I want them off. Please. This is a big deal for me.”

He nodded, then got up. The brief movement afforded me the chance to see what he had between his legs, and I couldn’t believe it. He was long, thick, rigid. I had seen sex toys that big before, but never thought I could take one inside myself. Then, the lights were off.

“Thank you,” I said.

He settled himself over me again, only he didn’t try to enter me right away. Instead, he kissed me. Softly, gently. He must have sensed my fear and was trying to calm me down. I knew I would never be able to thank him enough for that.

He licked my lips, his tongue darting over them. I whimpered, wanting more, and I opened my mouth to meet his tongue with mine. The sensation was incredible, sending lightning bolts to my center. I was already simmering, ready to boil for him. And he wanted me to. He wanted me to want him.

I gasped when I felt him slide against me, through my wetness. The head of his penis rubbed my clit and I groaned and rolled my hips in a circle to meet his friction with my own. He sighed, moving his hips again. I moved with him, grinding my clit against him. I wanted to come again, the way he’d made me come before. I was already craving more pleasure, and I knew he could give it to me.

“Yes…yes…” I whispered, turning my head away so he wouldn’t see what he was doing to me. I was still afraid, a little embarrassed. He kissed my neck, licking, sucking at me. And still he stroked me with his hard length, letting out little grunts of pleasure with every breath. I almost couldn’t stand it, knowing he was taking pleasure in my body just like I was taking pleasure from him.

I felt another orgasm coming on, and I gripped him tighter and tighter as the pleasure condensed in one solid ball of fire, then exploded all through me. I nearly screamed, pressing my face into his shoulder as the waves washed over me. I had never done that before in front of another person, and this was now the second time. It was huge for me. I thought I might cry, but held it back. Why would I cry? Nobody ever told me I might want to cry.

“Are you ready?” he asked. I felt sorry for him, almost. He was dying to let go.

“Yes,” I said, meaning it completely. I was ready to do it. He had gotten me ready. I winced, though, when I felt the first pressure from the head against my tight opening.

“Please,” I whispered in the dark. “Please go slowly.”

“I will,” he promised. Then the pressure grew stronger, until he was inside me. I gasped, my eyes closed. I gritted my teeth against the discomfort. He was so big it hurt. Not as much as I was always told it would, but enough to make me wince.

“Okay?” he grunted. I could tell he was barely holding himself back for my sake. I made a noise in the affirmative, and he continued to ease his way inside me. I pressed my lips together, breathing deeply. Finally, he was in. I felt our bodies connect.

“You’re so tight. I had no idea,” he whispered. “I’m trying so hard to hold on.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “You don’t have to.” The pain was receding, and in its place came a low, deep sort of pleasure. Not earth-shattering, but just a warm goodness from deep inside me.

But this wasn’t about me. It was about him. He had paid for me, and was getting what he paid for. Besides, he had already made me feel so good. I didn’t think it mattered how it felt when we actually had sex. I didn’t expect anything amazing.

He pulled out just a little, then slid back in. I gasped, then groaned. It did feel good. He did it again, and again, going a little faster every time.

He picked my legs up, putting them around his waist. It allowed him to go even deeper, and I bit into his shoulder as I groaned. It wasn’t painful, though. It started to feel better and better. I groaned again to let him know how much I liked it. I didn’t know how to say it otherwise, and was too shy.

I looked up at him, where he bore his weight on his elbows. His eyes were closed—I could tell, even in the darkness. What was he thinking? Did I feel good? I must have, since his breathing got faster and harder with every thrust. The low pleasure inside me got bigger, brighter, better. I moaned his name, and he grunted.

He groaned louder, and I thought it meant he was going to come. I held onto his shoulders, digging my fingers into them, reveling in the way he felt under my hands. I felt pleasure, but not the sort of pleasure he had taken me to with his mouth, or what I had felt on my own. I hadn’t expected to either.

He stiffened and cried out, and it was over. He fell against me, taking my breath away before pushing himself up on his elbows.

That was it. I wasn’t a virgin anymore.

I looked up at the ceiling, over his shoulder. I didn’t feel any different. Not really. A little sore, maybe, and still glowing with the memory of what Eric had made my body do. I pressed my mouth to his shoulder, hoping he understood how important what we’d done was to me. It wasn’t just about money, though that was part of it. He could have used me, taken advantage just by the fact of his sheer physical strength. But he didn’t. I would never see him again, but I would always be grateful.

He moved away from me, and suddenly I felt very alone. I wished he would hold me, but I didn’t know how to ask or if he would. There was no reason he should. I remembered, then, why I had always wanted to wait until it was special. Thirty thousand dollars couldn’t hold me when I felt emotional.