Loner by Harloe Rae Page 0,70
tongue access to sweep along mine. Heat crawls up my inner thighs until the burning ache overtakes me. I need him with a fiery intensity that’s setting me ablaze. If I don’t release this pressure soon, my body is bound to burst.
“Want you so fucking bad,” he mumbles against the corner of my mouth.
“I can tell.” I rock my hips against the steely ridge prodding at me.
Crawford nips at me, delving back in for another taste. My eyes nearly cross when he hauls me harder into him. “You do this to me. Only you.”
I could call him out on that blatant fib, but my mind is fuzzy with desire. “Show me how crazy I make you.”
He yanks his lips from mine and begins tugging the leather off my arms. After discarding the jacket into a crumpled heap, he gets to work on my shirt. The flimsy cotton doesn’t stand a chance and gets tossed away with one upward yank. Crawford cups my lace-covered breasts, a sound of approval rolling out of him. His tongue licks a trail across the most sensitive skin of my throat. That sinful touch wanders down, drifting to my collarbone and lower. He sucks and nips at the valley of my cleavage. I arch into him, begging for more.
“Feels so good,” I purr.
“Just getting started.” He inhales, burying his nose in the dip of my bust. “Smell so fucking good.”
I grapple at him, digging my fingers into his shirt. “Take this off.”
Crawford jerks his head. “Not yet.” He steps forward, taking me with him. The back of my legs tap his bike, and I reach out for stability. His chuckle tickles my already heightened sensitivity. “I got you.”
A hum trips up my throat. “I like the sound of that.”
He crouches in front of me, palms wrapping around my calves. “These boots are hot as fuck, but they need to go.” His deft fingers lower the zippers, and he yanks the soles off my feet.
He attacks my jeans next, but grunts after getting the button open.
I quirk a brow. “Problem?”
“Your pants might be sexy, but they’re clinging worse than glue.”
“That’s what you get for making me cover up when it’s almost July.”
Crawford snorts. “Biker attire does have its down side.”
“Compared to what?”
“That glitter bomb you wore to the bar.”
I shimmy and shove off the tight denim with some added force. The fabric gets thrown away with the rest. Only my bra and panties remain, but I have a feeling those will be stripped off soon enough. He lifts me up onto the seat, the sunbaked leather stinging my bare flesh.
“That’s hot,” I hiss.
His eyes flare with smoky embers. “I seem to recall you finding pleasure with a bite of pain.”
“Thanks for the preview.” After sprawling and reclining against the rear saddle, I grasp the bars for support. I bow my spine and edge closer to him. My lower half hangs in the balance, but not for long.
Crawford tears the thong from between my thighs, tucking it in his pocket. He crouches in front of me, hoisting one of my legs over his wide shoulder. I don’t get a chance to protest before he’s leaning in. “Remember, I want you spreading wide for me.”
This position makes that more challenging, but I stretch until my muscles burn. “I’m definitely open for this.”
“Exactly how I prefer you.” He chuckles, a hot puff of air caressing my folds.
I open my mouth with a retort, but a whimpering moan escapes instead. Crawford licks along my slit, making two excruciatingly lazy passes from top to bottom. I spear my fingers into the length of his hair, gripping at the roots with a harsh pull. A wheeze tumbles from the depths of my lungs while I drag him harder into me.
He circles two fingers at my entrance, feeding those digits into me with a slow glide. I welcome him with a sigh as the coils in my lower belly twist. The teasing touch isn’t nearly enough, and I buck my hips.
“So greedy for me,” he whispers against my exposed center.
“It’s your fault,” I whimper.
“Then I better be the one to fix it.”
Crawford laps at my clit with dizzying spirals. I’m panting, silent pleas dripping off my parting lips. What I want to beg for is beyond me.
I’m grinding against him, seeking the friction he readily gives. “More, please. I need you deeper.”
He rams his fingers into me, crooking them up in search of my hidden detonator. The instant he finds that secret spot, my