Tongue (Ruthless Kings MC #8) - K.L. Savage Page 0,53
tongue is long and thick, just like his cock, and he licks his cum off my lips. His fingers grip my chin before flattening his palm over my neck and squeezing. I gasp, the threat of the lack of air beading my nipples as he claims my mouth.
There’s no way he has never kissed a woman because he is in complete control right now. He snags my bottom lip in his mouth, growls, and bites down. I gasp, feeling the throb between my legs as he leans me back against the bed.
My knee aches as he spreads my legs with his hands and settles between my thighs. His shaft is hot and heavy against my thigh, rubbing in the remainder of his cum that’s dripping from his slit. His hand dives between us, and he rips my panties from my body. I’m so damn glad I took my pants off before I went to sleep.
“Yes,” I hiss when he roughly cups my pussy, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Tongue.”
“Wayne,” he whispers into my mouth in between kisses. “My name is Wayne.”
My arms wrap around his back, the scars that hide under his tattoos rub against me, and knowing I can touch him, smell him, and taste him. It makes all of this real.
I’m not crazy.
But he makes me insane.
“Wayne,” I repeat his name to him, and his shoulders bunch in response. He freezes above me, and he usually does that right before he vanishes into thin air. I hold onto him tighter, so he doesn’t move.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard someone say my real name.”
“Do you like it, or do you want me to stop?”
“Does it feel like I want you to stop?” He rocks his hips between my thighs, and I feel more cum on my leg.
He orgasmed again.
Tongue steals my mouth in a fiery, passionate kiss. It’s sloppy. It’s clear neither of us have much experience, but I’m happy because I think I’ve been waiting for someone who can accept me for me.
Psychosis and all.
I break away from his kiss, and he snarls at me, digging his fingers in my cheeks to force me to look at him. I reach for his hair, the strands I’ve wanted to feel since I saw him, but my hands hit short, choppy pieces.
I rip my mouth from him, he sneers, showing his straight white teeth like a mad man. “I’m not ready to be done with you.”
“You cut your hair,” I say with horror, wondering how in the hell I didn’t recognize it sooner.
“Do you like it? I thought you would.”
“Don’t ever cut your hair again, Wayne. Do you understand me?” I clench my fingers on the side of his head, gathering the hair from the root and pull. “I asked you if you understood me.” I threaten to rip his hair from his scalp, tightening my hold.
A sardonic slip of a chuckle escapes him, and the tilt of his lips turn sinister along with the shape of his eyes. Pools of endless, black ink stare back at me. His hand leaves my throat for a moment, and he bends down to pick something up off the floor. The moonlight shines against the silver metal of his blade as he slides the flat side down my body.
“Don’t forget what I can do to you,” he warns, and a gush of liquid heat escapes me, and my virgin hole flutters for his cock. “You have no idea the danger you’ve allowed in your bed.” My shirt is in the way of his pursuit, and he digs the tip of the metal into the shirt, ripping it in half. “The danger you’ve allowed between your legs.” He dips the blade down and presses the cold, flat side against my clit.
I let out a shaky breath, filled with fear and anticipation. Goosebumps prickle along my skin, my body warning me, but my insanity likes it.
“I think you’re interested in the blood,” he states, rubbing my clit with the knife.
I arch my back, gripping the sheets in my fists.
“You’re interested in the chaos.”
He plunges a bloody finger inside me, and a rumble matching the sound of his motorcycle vibrates his chest when he feels how wet I am. He pulls the finger out, then shoves it in my mouth. My nectar mixed with the blood on his hand has me moaning. I wrap my tongue around the wide digit and lick him clean.