I get the front door unlocked and throw my keys down onto the countertop in the kitchen. When I move to turn around Tomi grabs my hips, kicking the door shut behind himself and pulling my hips back into the heat of his body before sliding a palm down my stomach to my pussy. “Did you wear something pretty for your old man, sweetness?”
My legs start to shake.
He leans down to bite me where the soft skin of my neck and shoulder meets and grinds up on my ass like he can get off on that alone.
Fuck maybe he can.
I turn into jello in his arms, my whole body melting back into him as a moan rips out of my throat. I feel desperate, achy and needy to have him, like there’s no other way to relieve the pressure building up inside of me.
When I’m sure there’s a nice big hickey on my neck he finally lets me go, spinning me around and slamming his lips down on mine like he wants to eat me whole, as if the taste of my lips on his is a drug he can’t get enough of.
Everything feels different this time.
I don’t know if it’s because he’s told me I belong to him or if it’s something to do with him, like he’s changed his mind about me and so now he’s treating me like I’m his everything, but I choke on a sob.
I never expected to feel this way.
“Fuck. The bed’s still in pieces,” he says, his voice a low rasp over my lips as he breathes the words into our kiss.
I groan at the thought of stopping but he doesn’t hesitate to hike me up into his arms and walk us both over to the living room. I wriggle to get down, both because I think I’m too heavy and because I need to make up the fold-out bed before we can fit together, but his arms tighten around me.
“Don’t fucking move. I don’t care about where we fuck, Angel.”
I bite his lip in retaliation but it backfires on me, a low groan rumbling out of his chest as his hands drop down to squeeze my ass, pushing me further into his body like he’s trying to fuse us together.
“Can I at least set up the bed? This can’t be comfortable for you and I don’t want to get a rug burn on the floor.”
He grunts at me like I’m insulting him and he lowers me to the couch, his lips never leaving mine as he kisses me so deep I’m not sure where I end and he starts.
Then he drops to his knees, his hands steady and sure as he undoes my jeans, tugging them down my legs and groaning at the sight of the tiny black silk triangle between my thighs as he pulls away from me to get a good look.
There’s already a wet spot there, his kisses and rough handling of me like a drug I’m hooked on.
“Take your shirt off. Leave your bra on though, that’s mine to take care of when I’m ready.”
He catches my eyes with his own and holds my gaze, the fire there for me already burning hot. I bite my lip, squirming at the intensity, but he doesn’t blink or look away. It’s like he knows just how devastating this is to my entire being, that his eyes looking into my soul like this could destroy me and he’s forcing me to be so open to him because nothing on this Earth could get me to look away right now.
It’s even more intense when he hooks his arms under my thighs, pulling my body closer to him and spreading me open, all without breaking the eye contact.
My heart begins to pound.
This doesn’t feel like all of the times before, like all of the times we’ve fucked desperately. This is too soft, too slow, too perfectly addicting for such a dirty word.
It feels like he wants to make love to me.
Do bikers even know how to do that? Fuck, do I? I’ve only ever been fucked, by force or with hate and the look he’s giving me now is riding the edge of too much, too soon.
But he forces my eyes to follow his as he leans down and our eye contact only breaks when he buries his face into the apex of my thighs, breathing me in as he tugs my legs again to pull me in. It’s as though he’s desperate to be as close to me and the wet heat hidden behind that thin layer of silk as he can be.
He uses his teeth to move my panties aside, licking a stripe up the center of me and then dipping his tongue inside me. Fuck, his tongue drags along the most sensitive parts of me and when he finally circles my clit with it my thighs clench and tremble with the effort it takes to keep them open.
He licks and sucks my pussy until his chin is dripping, my orgasms shaking my body apart until I think I might fucking die, and when he finally gets up to undress me fully I slide off of the couch and onto my knees.
“Fuck my face? It’s been too long.”
He grunts at me like he’s been shot, grabbing a fistful of my hair and shoving me down the length of him until he hits the back of my throat and I have to swallow around him to get him further down.
“Fuck, sweetness, you’re too fucking good to me. I wanna come down your throat but I miss your sweet pussy gripping me so tight. Fuck, I’m never gonna get enough of you.”
I can’t help but touch myself, my hand slipping down into the mess he’s already made and my pussy is so ready for him that three fingers slip in as easy as breathing. He doesn’t notice at first, not until I groan and come all over my own hand, and he jerks my head back so he can see.
“Fuck, get up. Get up so I can fuck you properly, you can swallow for me later.”
I groan and stand up, pulling at his shirt until he’s naked and he’s quick about getting my bra and panties off too.
Then he picks me up again like I weigh nothing and fucks me against the wall in our living room.
I barely have time to figure out where the hell to put my cast so I don’t knock him out with it by accident but he doesn’t give a fuck, just slams me into the wall and pounds my pussy like he’ll die if he doesn’t come soon.
His desperation pushes me over the edge with him and it’s only once he sets me down that I realize we didn’t use a condom, his cum slipping down my legs.
I stare at him in shock and he shrugs. “I’m not worried if you’re not worried, sweetness.”
Chapter Thirty Six
Tomi
"Why the hell does one man need forty black t-shirts? What in God’s name would you need that many fucking shirts for, Tomi?" Rue growls, spitting mad about moving my shit in this heat and Angel starts giggling when Trink piles on.
"He's on the never-ending hunt for one that's tight enough to show off all his abs and shit. Fuck, now he's got Angel he might let himself go so it's a good thing he's got some spares."
I ignore the lot of them from where I'm moving all of my tech into our bedroom. Angel is sitting on the brand-new carpet trying to stuff my shit into the tiny closet space we have left but without tossing some of the stripper outfits it's just not going to work.
I won't let her ditch any of them.
Look, I hated her working there for sure but I also spent a lotta time picking out favorites and there’s no way we’re ditching them before I get my own private dances in them. I’ve started talking about putting a pole up in the living room but Angel keeps looking at me like I’m trying to kill her and pointing out that my parents come over for dinner every other week and she might actually die at seeing Keely's reaction to it.
I could handle it.
"You know the real reason he has so many is because he's fucking shit at keeping up with his laundry, right? You're going to spend your whole life washing up after that man," Speck says, setting down another box in the bedroom and wiping his brow off on his sleeve.