Old Man's Ride: Dust Bowl Devils MC by Britten Thorne Read Free Book Online

spread across his face. "I'm going to let you beg."
     
    ---
     
    When he said it, I assumed he meant just that night. I didn't realize he intended on dragging my torment out.
    But I was willing to do whatever it took though to win back his favor.
    When we reached my apartment, I didn't know what he intended. He didn't say anything, but simply followed me in. Mom was out - probably at work, or having post-work drinks. Maybe it’s time to start thinking about getting my own apartment.
    "Can I get you anything? I asked softly. "Water? A beer?"
    He regarded me for a moment, standing with his back against the front door. I suddenly felt awkward beneath his considering gaze. His eyes traced over my dirty top, my dusty jeans. His assessment made me feel naked. I wished I'd had time to shower before being alone with him.
    "Well? What?" I asked.
    "Turn around." I recognized that tone. My breathing hitched, and a warm glow grew at my core. I turned and watched him over my shoulder. His eyes settled on my thighs, then my ass. He licked his lips.
    "Take off your clothes." If there's a sentence that causes more instant arousal than that, I don't know it. Especially uttered in his gruff and husky voice. I pulled my jeans down first, tugging them below my ass slowly before kicking them away. Then came my new Prospect jacket, with its rich leather smell, and my shirt, all dropped at my feet. Goosebumps rose along my arms, and my nipples hardened beneath my bra. What is he going to do with me now?
    He stepped around and stood in front of me. His eyes were dark with heat and lust as he looked me up and down. "Underwear, too."
    I wanted to shake my head. I felt so exposed already. In this daylight, he'd be able to see every intimate detail of my body. It wasn't as if he hadn't already, but somehow the dim light in a strange hotel was a little different. It wasn't home - it was a little less real.
    "Come on," he insisted. So I did. With trembling hands, I unclasped my bra. The material teased my sensitive nipples as it fell away. Then finally my panties, now damp with the evidence of what he was doing to me.
    "Perfect." He walked a circle around me. "Beautiful." Standing before me again, he said, "Play with your breasts." I opened my mouth to speak, but he raised an eyebrow before any words could form.
    I cupped the soft mounds of flesh and squeezed and lifted them, like I was offering them to him. He nodded, indicating that I should continue. I pinched my nipples and gasped at the twin jolts. I circled them with my thumbs, soothing the sting; I tugged them, squeezed them, rubbed my hands all over feeling wild and sexy. Soon, his breathing matched mine; hard and fast.
    “ Run your hands down your body,” he said, “Nice and slow.” I let my hands roam, brushing their way across my stomach. I traced the curves of my waist, rubbed my palms over my thighs. He watched as if hypnotized. I pressed my fingers harder, indenting my flesh as I passed up and down my body again.
    “ Good,” he said softly, “Very good. Now. Stand with your legs wider. Touch your pussy.”
    I placed my feet further apart. With a wicked little grin, feeling powerful despite taking his orders, my fingers trailed across my thigh, through my soft patch of hair, and I brushed the pink folds of my sex. I gasped at the gentle contact - it stoked the fire within me. I hoped his hands would replace mine soon. I could imagine them, feel them, as I anticipated his touch.
    “ Nice,” he said. He began to circle me again. “Just like that. Real light.” He stood close behind me - I could smell his sweat, his smoky leather jacket, the dust from the road. I could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Now, this is important. You can’t come until I say, understand?”
    “ Yes,” I breathed. My fingers were coated with my juices as I kept stroking. I avoided my most sensitive places, but that didn’t stop the rising tide of arousal.
    “ Repeat it back to me.”
    “ I