Rocker (Cerberus MC #13) - Marie James Page 0,79

his mur—

My head shuts those thoughts down because it’s too damn soon, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to even joke about killing someone again.

“Jinx gave us his blessing,” he reminds me as if I wasn’t in the kitchen when his friend declared that it was okay for Rocker to touch me.

I open my mouth to argue that my body is my own and there isn’t a person alive that’s going to tell me what to do with it, but that talented finger of his moves over my shoulder, teasing my collarbone and the dip at the base of my throat. My legs squeeze together, the throbbing below becoming almost too much to ignore.

“How kind of him,” I say instead, and the response comes out much breathier than intended.

“He’s a generous man.”

“Does he know just how horny pregnant women get?”

“Who knows, but I’m not going to mention it to him. I don’t want him thinking about that sweet pussy of yours. One taste is all the man will ever get. I’m honestly surprised he isn’t trying to fight me for it.”

His finger circles my nipple, and I’d think that he’s only doing it to torture me, but it’s turning him on so much, he can’t even fully close his mouth after speaking.

“I fucking love your tits. My mouth is watering for a taste.”

I groan as he applies pressure to the tip of my breast before pinching it just enough to get my attention. My tits have been sore for weeks, but the tenderness has begun to subside. Had he tried that a month ago, I probably would’ve punched him in the nose.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve gotten laid?”

His brow furrows as his eyes meet mine.

Is he thinking of what happened after Jeremy arrived? Am I ruining the moment?

I don’t even count those assaults on my body, and I can’t focus on them right now.

“I don’t have a clue.”

“You should,” I pant, his eyes on me but his fingers still working magic on my breast. “You were there.”

“Jinx was the last man inside of you.” It’s not a question. He knows how that night went.

“Technically, your mouth and fingers were.”

His hand reaches lower, my belly quivering under his touch. His fingers linger over my lower belly, but he doesn’t look disappointed.

“Callum,” I moan. “Please.”

There’s a lot of begging in that one word, and honestly, I don’t know exactly what I’m asking from him.

Please touch me.

Please make me come.

Please love me.

Please make me yours.

More than likely, it’s all of it. I want all of it. I need all of it.

Or maybe it’s just my hormones speaking or my fear of being alone in this world with a baby.

No matter the real question, the answer is him.

All arguments and thoughts drain away when his talented finger splits me and skates over my clit. He touches me better than I could ever touch myself. What would’ve taken half an hour and many fantasies is going to happen in mere seconds.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this, skin flushed and wet, bubbles clinging to your perfect skin. I could nut in my jeans at just the sight of your tits heaving up and down with your ragged breathing.”

Him saying these things makes me more aware of my body. The bubbles pop on my stomach when I roll my hips, the warmth of the water giving way to the cool air when I arch into his touch. It’s sensation overload, and I love every second of it.

“Those pouty lips of yours. God, the memory of them on my cock, your tongue licking up my length.”

Damn if his pleasure doesn’t do it for me, too.

“Are you going to come, gorgeous? Or do you need more?”

He punctuates his question by sliding two thick fingers inside of me. The sensation is out of this world, but it’s over the instant he curves his fingers and presses them inside of me.

He groans as I begin to clench around his digits, and my eyes flutter closed as I give in to the power of my release.

“So fucking perfect.” When he pulls free, he doesn’t miss the opportunity to swipe his hand back over my clit, making me jolt from the sensitivity.

He’s still looking down at me like he’s found a little piece of heaven, and somehow this man makes me feel like the only damn woman in the world.

“Let me,” I beg as I reach for the front of his jeans.

I

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