Cruz (Dark and Dirty Sinners' MC #5) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,15

against my pussy. The heat had gone, died, but I let him carry on because I wasn’t a prick tease, and I wasn’t about to be accused of offering the goods only to take them away at the last hurdle. It was easier to give it than it was to have it taken from me, so I made a mental note about what I needed to do tomorrow, a check list of colors I needed to order in, all as he moved me into my apartment, and somehow guided us to the bed.

I let him do it, let him kiss me and touch me. Feel me up. I let him undress me. Let him lay me on the bed. I just let him do it all.

As I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to think about what might have been, studiously concentrating on the design I’d be drawing up tomorrow for a pop-in client, he moved into me.

It didn’t hurt like it usually did, was my initial thought. I wasn’t bone dry like normal.

Then, he started to move, and I zoned out once more. I’d just redecorated the studio, and I—

He pulled out.

Pulled off me.

Stood up.

Started to fasten his zipper.

I gaped at him, leaning up on my elbows before I rasped, “What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I’m not a rapist.”

I blinked at him. “Huh?” The words jerked me into sitting up, and I reached for the fly he’d just fastened and struggled with the zipper. “Come back to bed,” I commanded.

“You weren’t into it, Indy. It’s okay. It’s all good.”

Stunned that he’d noticed, bewildered that he had, I just gaped at him. And as I did, I saw how fucking beautiful he was again.

His hair rumpled now because I’d rumpled it. His face free from resentment and the bitterness men presumed to get when they weren’t getting their way in the sack. He was like…

I released a shaky sigh, suddenly feeling that molten heat blanket me once more.

It was weird, so weird, but I stopped reaching for his dick, and instead, moved over onto my knees and crawled to him. A grunt escaped him like I’d started sucking him off and I felt his eyes on every inch of me as I moved nearer. When I was close enough, I straightened up then pressed my naked torso against his, the denim rubbing against my lower half somehow grounding me rather than jarring me, and I reached for him. Kissing him once more, I moaned as his tongue thrust into my mouth.

Why did this feel so good?

It even felt good being naked.

My nipples budded, furling into tight tips as they rasped against his chest, and I could feel that heat starting up. Even though my hands moved on his back, sliding over firm, warm skin, his stayed off me, and that had that heat flickering into live flames.

I whimpered into his mouth, needing more of this, needing more of him but… why had it stopped before?

Groaning as I writhed against him, feeling like I was going crazy with want even as I knew I didn't want him inside me, I felt the disconnect start again when his hands appeared on my waist. Only, they weren’t there long. He moved me into a similar position as earlier, but his tongue continued dancing with mine as he hauled me higher against him so that he was carrying me again.

I expected to feel the hard thrust of his erection soon, but I didn’t. Instead, he turned us around, carefully lowered us so that he was on the bed and my knees were pinning him in place. Then, he tore his lips from mine and rasped, “Come on, Indy, give me some of that honey.”

Disoriented, my mouth sore from our kisses, my brain mush from them too, I rumbled, “Huh?”

He didn’t let me think, didn’t let me act, instead, he hauled me up so that I was riding his face.

Even as my eyes flared wide in surprise, his tongue moved like it had when he’d been kissing me, only he was flicking it against my clit.

And Cruz knew what to do with it once he found it.

Even better, his hands, his fucking hands, stayed on the bed.

“Oh my God,” I shrieked, unable to bear what he was doing to me. It felt so good, so fucking powerful that I reared up, unable to take it, then, the sensations died and he didn’t force me down, so, tentatively, I lowered myself again only for him to