Page 27 of Getting Dirty

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He pulls me with him to the front of his bike and places my hands on the handlebars, angling me forward.

‘You are beautiful,’ he rasps with appreciation, his hands soft as he strokes the curve of my back. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

Do I? I don’t know anything other than the quiver of anticipation running through me and the promise of release, the heat of his palms as he strokes my skin, the crazy stream of sensation along my breasts as they fall heavy in the cool air, my nipples sensitised from his thorough exploration.

‘Don’t you?’ he insists, lowering his hands to the waistband of my jeans and working them down my thighs.

‘Yes.’ I’d say yes to anything in that second.

‘Better.’

He smooths his palms over the curve of my arse, his appreciation drawn out, teasing. My skin prickles in his wake. And then he dips low, between my legs from behind, and I moan, ‘Yes, more, yes.’

He dips inside me like he’s savouring me. ‘So wet.’

I hum as my body sways, the sweet heat of his invasion urging me to spread my legs wider, wanting more. His other hand joins in the attentions, curving around to my front, strumming my clit as he moves within me. I feel a spasm of sheer pleasure deep inside; he has my G spot.

Fuck, yeah.

The pressure is acute, compounded by the perfect rhythm on my clit. I’m panting and crying out at once. It’s so good. So intense. I’m going to come—but, no, not yet... I want him with me. I want to tell him to stop, but I can’t.

‘Come for me, princess. Let go.’

My body rides him of its own accord, its movements rigid and fraught with the tension spiralling through my limbs. I widen my stance again, my jeans cutting further into my thighs an added sensation. Punishing. Powerful. Yes.

I lift my eyes to the bike and catch my reflection in the sleek black metal, my mouth slack, my breasts bare, and then I?

??m coming so hard I fear I’m going to fall.

I drop forward, the cold shield of the bike is sharp against my skin, and then his hands are on my hips, pulling me back against him. I rise and hook my hands around his neck, pressing my arse into his hardness, teasing him as the waves taper off, my limbs fill with sated bliss.

He shudders, his breath ragged as he clamps my lower body tight against him. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.’

I turn my head into him, press my lips to his jaw. ‘I want you inside me—here, now.’

His cock pulses, his body rocking with it. ‘I won’t last long.’

‘I don’t need you to.’

I love that he’s honest about it...that the effort it’s taking for him to hold himself back has his entire body vibrating against mine. I kiss him again and snuggle my head under his chin as he slips a hand inside the back pocket of his jeans and retrieves his wallet. A condom comes next, and then the wallet joins my bag on the floor, the empty condom packet too.

I lean forward as he unfastens his belt, the jangle of the buckle and the pop of buttons filling my ears, my body reheating with anticipation. I look over my shoulder, desperate to take him in, not wanting to miss a second of his slipping restraint. His cock is bare, pulsing in his grip; his teeth are gritted, his neck corded.

I’ve done that to him, and I smile as I take hold of the handlebars once more, my arse rubbing against his length and making him hiss through his teeth. I love it that he’s so desperate, so keen, and the wetness slips between my legs, coating my underwear. I couldn’t be more ready for him.

Slowly he rolls the condom down and grips the base of his cock hard. I nudge back, purposely positioning him in the valley of my arse, telling him without words that I need him now. He grips my hips, steadying me, but he doesn’t do what I ask. Instead he slips one hand around my front, beneath the lace, straight to my clit, which is so sensitised in the aftermath that I buck and cry out.

‘Patience, Coco.’

‘If you want patience you’ve got the wrong woman.’

‘Is that so?’ he murmurs, his eyes falling to my arse. ‘Guess I’ll just have to teach you.’

He flicks over my clit again, but this time he doesn’t stop. It’s fierce, brutal, and yet my toes curl, my thighs tighten, and I know I’m going to come again.

‘Ash... Ash...’

He keeps up the pressure over my clit as he takes himself in his hand, probing inside the slit of my underwear.


Tags: Rachael Stewart Romance