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Ruled: New for 2018! A hot bad boy biker romance story that breaks all the rules. Perfect for fans of Darker!

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Год написания книги
2019
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He sounds sincere when he says, “Nothing wrong with one friend making another feel good.”

I think about that while he runs his hands down my back, cupping my butt and lifting me until I’m sitting on his dick. The only things between us are my panties and his jeans. Or wait—maybe he’s pro-underwear and not naked underneath his denim? The beer must be talking, because I skim my fingers under the edge of his jeans on an exploratory mission. Not commando. Okay. That’s one question settled.

“This is a bad idea,” I inform him even as I turn and straddle him. I can’t be that drunk, because I manage it without sticking my knees in any unfortunate places. Or maybe that’s because his hands guide me and it’s so easy to let him take control.

“Never a bad idea to tell me what you want.” The words sound like a promise. I lose the thought as I slide my hands up his chest and over his shoulders to cup his neck. God, his skin’s warm. I wonder how he feels about licking, because right now his dick is aligned with my pussy and it feels absolutely perfect. “Plus, sweetheart? I’ve got one rule. The game stops the minute you tell me you’re not having fun.”

That’s a good rule and I tell him so.

He nudges my chin up until I meet his eyes. “You’ve got my promise on that.”

“And you always keep your promises.”

“Damn straight.”

He’s smiling when he says it, but the words are like a safety line. Nothing too bad can happen now. He’s said so.

“First thing? I don’t like to rush,” I whisper, leaning up.

“Got all the time in the world,” he tells me.

No.

He’s so wrong.

All I have is right now, this one stolen moment.

I cup his head with my hands, one thumb tracing the soft line of his ear. Must be the only place the man isn’t hard, because I’m definitely sitting on an impressive erection and his chest isn’t any softer. I tug his head down toward my mouth before I can think too much. He helps me by cupping my butt and boosting me up his chest, his fingers skimming the curve of my butt just below my panties.

“I don’t like to go for gold right away.” I brush my mouth over his throat. He’s inked in so many places. In addition to the dark bands on his wrists and forearms, he’s got more ink on his throat.

“This is pretty.” I trace the black swirl nearest his ear with my tongue.

“Got nothing on you,” he growls. “Girls are pretty.”

“Mmmm.” I eat him, kissing my way toward his ear.

I lick him and he groans.

“Pretend you’re a girl,” I whisper. “And let me call you pretty.”

“Fuck,” he says hoarsely. “Asking the impossible, princess. I’ve definitely got a dick.”

The tip of that dick bumps against my clit in a bull’s-eye. Nothing subtle about the move, but somehow the very bluntness of it makes me hotter. Plus, he grabs my hips when I buck, holding me rock-steady in his hands. My internal temperature rockets up to on fire and it’s all I can do to not grind down on him and come right now.

“Are we still playing show-and-tell?” he asks with a hoarse groan. “Because you’re giving me ideas.”

“Shut up.” I lick his ear lightly, teasing him. “This is my show.”

“For now,” he agrees, making it clear I’m only in control because he’s letting me be. That apparently turns me on, too, because my pussy clenches, reaching for the dick I’ve decided it can’t have. Still, since he asked for a lesson in how to lick my pussy, I need to be thorough, right? Just in case we ever end up putting this plan into action, I’d hate to be the one to give him bad advice. So I go back to work on his ear, sucking hard on the lobe until he’s the one bucking up. Imagine that. What works for the princess works for the big, bad biker.

“I think we’re gonna be real close friends.” His hands trace the top of my thong through my dress, and when he tugs gently on the tiny strip, I feel it right in my clit. My panties are his own personal leash to my libido. God, I should get up. Should go. Should—

“You like it slow,” he whispers roughly, and my thoughts grind to a happy halt. Right now, I’d like it however he wanted to give it to me.

“My fantasy,” I whisper back. “My rules.”

“You want to hear about mine?” He wraps my hair around his hand, pulling my head back until I meet his gaze.

“I have friends waiting for me.” I sound the opposite of decisive.

“Had a real shitty day, princess,” he growls. “Don’t make it worse by leaving now.”

“Funny,” I gasp. “Because mine is getting better by the second.”

“Tease,” he whispers softly, but he doesn’t sound mad any longer. “Didn’t think you’d play these kinds of games.”

I press down on him. “What kind?”

“The dirty kind.”

His fingers tighten in my hair and my heartbeat jacks up, announcing the imminent arrival of my first heart attack. We’re in public. Sure, the booth gives us some privacy, but it’s nowhere near enough for him to be all but fingering my pussy. Why don’t I mind? Why am I still sitting here on his lap, my legs hugging his hips like he’s my life raft in the Sea of Orgasm? His legs shift beneath me, the muscles bunching and pressing, and a new heartbeat explodes between my legs. Rev is dirty. Wicked. Biker. Outlaw. All the words drain right out of my head when his hand disappears between us. Oh my God, he’s going to touch me.

“Didn’t think you’d let me do this.”

His fingers stroke beneath the edge of my panties.

“Why not?”

“You usually date bikers?” His fingers move higher.

My breath catches.

“I don’t usually date,” I admit. “Tonight’s the first time in a long time for me, and I’m kind of sucking at it.”

I should care. I should feel bad that I’ve left people waiting for me at our table while I climb all over Rev like he’s the only orgasm left in town. Instead, all I can feel is the pleasure. He strokes along the crotch of my panties and my world stills and then explodes in a new beat. He works his finger beneath the edge and my pussy rolls out the welcome mat. Like he knows all I can do is wait, holding my breath and trying not to beg, he works the damp cotton against me, rubbing and pressing. They’re not even good panties, date night panties I wouldn’t mind flashing the world, but they’re my lifeline in the storm that is Rev. Just an everyday Hanes cotton thong that’s practical, sturdy and out of this world in Rev’s hands.

“You like these?” He tugs the side of my panties.

“They get the job done,” I say drily and he laughs.

“Guess that means you won’t miss them.”

He rips my panties apart with two sharp tugs and I don’t have a problem with that, either. Apparently, I’m up for whatever he wants to do tonight.

“Tell me about your day,” I gasp, desperate for distraction. I so need to put the brakes on this crazy attraction.

His knuckle finds my bare clit and presses. It’s too much, too fast, his fingers sliding over my slick, wet flesh. I feel my orgasm coming, and I want to stretch this moment out. Make it last as long as possible, because the best sex of my life shouldn’t be this short.
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