Page 40 of Judgment Road


  "Fire's glowing hot, baby. No one can see us. Give me that sweet body." His fingers slid down her belly. Lower. Curved into her, making her gasp. Her hands went to the waistband of her jeans, she lifted up and shimmied. He kept his fingers buried in her. When her jeans were down to her knees, he pulled his fingers free of her sweet pussy and licked them. She tasted like heaven. That aphrodisiac he craved.

  "Take them all the way off. I want you facing me, knees up, legs apart." He watched her hesitate, need warring with old rules. Need won. He won. He lifted the whiskey glass to his lips, unable to take his eyes off her as she turned around, slipped off her jeans, scooted toward him and leaned back on her elbows, knees up and wide apart.

  His breath caught in his throat. She was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He swallowed down the whiskey and took another slow sip, enjoying the view. Enjoying the knowledge that she was really his. That she gave him herself. Her body. Any way he liked. Any time he liked.

  "Closer, baby. Scoot right up into me. I want your ass on my lap, legs on either side of me, feet planted on the ground."

  Her eyes went wide. Her tongue touched her lip. She complied again, this time more slowly, making a show of it. The firelight spilled across her body, her breasts gleaming at him, the liquid gold between her legs glistening an invitation. He waited to put down his glass until she'd straddled him, once more lying back onto her elbows, legs wide, feet planted, her body open to him. Her eyes never left his face.

  The beat of the music pounded through his veins. Tripped his heart. He caught her ass in both hands and lifted her to him, just as if she were a glass of the finest whiskey. His tongue swiped across all that gold. Her body shuddered. He looked down at her and smiled. He felt that smile rolling through him. It felt beautiful. His mouth clamped over her and he suckled, his tongue flicking her clit hard.

  Her hips bucked. He held her and feasted. Ruthlessly. All for him. Letting her taste drive him as wild as the music. Watching her head thrash, her body undulate. Felt the first rush hit her hard and more of that aphrodisiac poured into his mouth, onto his tongue. He stroked and caressed. He used his fingers, his thumb, he smeared the liquid all over her and lapped it up, biting at her thighs, licking caresses to ease any sting. He devoured her.

  She let out a small sound, the air leaving her lungs in a rush. The music started again, another wild, pounding beat. Her little keening wail added to the pulsing rhythm. He kept his eyes glued to his woman. Her face. The beauty there. In his wildest dreams, he'd never imagined he would have everything all wrapped up in a woman. Anya. Everything.

  The orgasm rushed over her, strong, rolling through her in waves. He could see it, moving up her belly, her breasts, settling as a scream in her throat. She tried to suppress it, but she was losing all inhibition, uncaring where they were, her entire being centered on him. He fucking loved that. His little angel, Anya. He corrupted her occasionally and it felt like a gift.

  The third one had her reaching for him, trying to get his mouth off her sensitive clit, even as the orgasm tore through her body, spilling more gold aphrodisiac into his mouth. He lifted his head, his gaze burning into hers. "Lift up, baby. Need to get rid of my jeans."

  Her back was to the fire, the darkness, the others dancing and playing, and she didn't hesitate. As she got to her knees, he pushed his jeans down around his thighs. He caught her hand and brought it to the thick base of him as she once more straddled him. He loved the feel of her fingers wrapped around him. It was a kind of secret paradise to have that. Others might take it for granted that their woman could fist them, or put their mouth on them, but he never would. Never.

  He gripped her hair and began pushing her head down over him.

  "Are you sure?" Anya's voice was hesitant. "I'm wild for the taste of you, Reaper, you know that, but we've only managed to do this a couple of times, and we're surrounded by others."

  He couldn't tell her that was part of the reason he knew he wouldn't freak out. He was that fucked-up. "Need this, baby. Right now. Need your mouth."

  She gave him the control the way she always did. She let him push her head over his cock. "Open your mouth, use your tongue." He shuddered as she complied. The heat. The fire. "Suck, baby. Suck hard."

  She obeyed, hollowing her cheeks and sucking him deep. Her tongue lashed and stroked. Danced around and over him. She did something with her throat and then swallowed so that she seemed to massage him with her mouth. He let her breathe, although it was hard to think of that when she was taking him right off planet Earth.

  He tightened his fingers in her hair, using both fists, holding her there while every stroke of her tongue sent flames licking up his shaft. He'd never enjoyed having a mouth on him until Anya. Each time they managed to go a little further, making some progress. He found he was becoming as addicted to her mouth as he was to her taste and her pussy.

  His hips moved, almost of their own volition, thrusting gently into the scorching hot depths of her mouth. He was thick and he loved the way her lips were stretched to accommodate his girth. He liked the way the firelight played over her face, highlighting her mouth on him. It was becoming more difficult to think. For the first time, with her mouth on him, his balls grew tight and hard. He felt his seed boiling, desperate for release.

  Movement caught his eye and he lifted his head. Anya started to lift off him as Player approached their spot, but Reaper refused to allow her to stop. He couldn't let anything stop her. "Harder, baby. Take me there. Swallow me down." He whispered the entreaty. A command really, since he wasn't allowing her head up other than to breathe.

  She looked up at him, her mouth working him, each beat of the music, driving down on him until he knew he was there, right at her throat. He held her there, his heart pounding. His cock swelled and triumph burst through him. Player grinned at him and caught up the woman he was with, taking her out farther, away from the firelight, leaving Reaper alone with Anya.

  He stared down at her. He loved the sight of her, those eyes staring up at him, that mouth, hotter than hades, those lips, stretched wide to accommodate him. He let her breathe and pushed her down, deep this time, felt her throat. Felt her swallow. Muscles squeezed. His balls felt like they were on fire, a scorching inferno to match her mouth. Then it was there, pulled from him, jetting up like magma, pouring down her throat.

  Lightning streaked through him. Pure lightning, zigzagging through his body, ripping down his spine, licking along his belly, roaring through his groin. He clamped his hand around her throat, feeling her swallow, feeling his cock jerk. The sensations were unlike anything he could have imagined. He threw his head back and roared with the flames. They'd done it. That mouth of hers. He loosened his hold on her, but didn't let her head up all the way.

  "Don't stop yet. Gentle, babe." He couldn't let it be over. He never wanted it to be over.

  She obeyed him, her tongue licking along his shaft, under the broad head, over it, lower, to the base, catching every last drop. He let her up because he had no other choice. Her eyes nearly glowed, showing she was as elated as he was. Elated, but she still was dripping for him. He handed her the glass of whiskey so she could take another small sip.

  "Fuckin' beautiful, Anya," he said. He reached out, used his thumb to take the last bit of evidence from the corner of her lip, pressed it to her mouth and waited until she licked his thumb clean. "Put the glass down. We're not finished."

  She glanced at his cock. "You're finished."

  He shook his head. "No faith, baby." No way was he finished, not after they'd actually had the first success they'd ever had with her mouth on him. His cock was already thinking about coming back to life just at the thought of his plan. "Straddle me like you did before and lie back, legs apart, knees wide, feet flat on the blanket."

  Anya complied without hesitation. He reached down and rubbed between her legs. "Love this sweet little pussy, baby. Hot as hell and so fuckin' tight I think you're going to kill me sometimes."

  Her hips follo
wed his fingers and she gave a little moan of disappointment when he took his hand away. "I really want you, Reaper."

  "I can see that. I want to watch you get yourself off."

  "I can't do that in front of you." She sounded breathless, and he saw the fresh flood of liquid seep along the junction exposed to him.

  "Yes, you can."

  "Not here, Reaper." But her hand slid down her belly.

  "Pinch your nipples for me first." He loved her tits. Fucking loved them. He wanted to do a little sucking of his own.

  She laid her head more comfortably on his legs, both hands going to her breasts. He watched her fingers on her nipples. Occasionally he reached to rub between her legs, or circle her clit. Once he pushed a finger deep, curled it to brush her most sensitive spot, but pulled away when her hips bucked, trying to allow her to get off.

  He poured himself whiskey. "Use your hand like I did. Let me see you, Anya."

  He sipped, letting that burn reach his stomach as her hand disappeared between her legs. She began fucking herself with her fingers. The sight was hotter than hell and his cock reacted, just as he knew it would. He reached out to help, flicking her clit hard, watching her face, that beautiful flush, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing deepened.

  "Stop, baby."

  "Reaper!" She wailed his name.

  "Sit on me. Slow, baby."

  She didn't want slow and her breath came out a hiss of protest, but she was Anya and she lowered herself onto him, letting him fill her. Letting him stretch her. She was hot as hell, an inferno surrounding him, burning him alive. That sweet pussy of hers was going to be the death of him. He felt those tight muscles giving way with great reluctance to encircle him like a scorching hot, silken fist. He threw his head back, savoring that sweet death she always gave to him. That all-encompassing fire that ran through his body like a volcano erupting and spreading hot magma until he almost couldn't breathe.

  "Your top. Take it all the way off." It was the only thing left on her. The material had been framing her breasts, but now he wanted it gone.

  No hesitation this time. Anya was already lost in him and she pulled the camisole completely off and dropped it to the side. She tried to move. To ride him. He held her down, hands on her hips, pinning her there. Her gaze jumped to his face.

  "Cup your tits, Anya. I want you squeezing and kneading them."

  "I need you to move."

  "We'll move when I say. Do it, baby. Hands on your tits."

  He watched her hands come up under her breasts, and his entire body gave a little shudder of anticipation. Fingers worked that soft flesh. His mouth watered. Fuck, he loved that sight. He bent his head. "Feed it to me."

  She did without hesitation, raising her right breast to his mouth. He sucked that mound in hard, his tongue lashing her nipple. His teeth were next, biting down harder than he normally did. She cried out but he didn't release. He pulled his head back, stretching her nipple taut, eyes on her face. The heat there, the flush of need, how could he ever have lived without it? How could he ever survive if she was gone?

  He let go of her nipple and raised her hips, then brought her down over him in a slow slide. He had to clench his teeth it was so good. So perfect. "Work your tits for me, baby," Reaper said and went still again until she put her hands on her tits and began massaging and kneading them, until she began pinching her nipples, rolling and twisting to his satisfaction.

  He forced her to ride him slowly, staying in control, letting the need envelop both of them. Letting the fire build until it felt so out of control that it was going to leap through both of them, consuming them.

  "Please." Anya sobbed the word, her hips squirming, spiraling, the last accelerant to those flames.

  He shifted, holding her with one hand across her back, catching her leg to curl it around him. "Both legs," he grunted the command. "Lock your heels. Wait for me. Fuckin' wait."

  He shifted, rising up to his knees, putting her back to the ground, ramming into her deep. Fuck. Fuck. That feeling of nothing but fire. Not nothing--he realized that as he looked into her eyes, as he hammered his body into hers, going deep. Needing deeper. There was love there, burning just as deeply between them. He felt that with every stroke.

  He rode her hard. Over and over. Her breath whispered over him in ragged pants. Her eyes had gone dazed, shocked. Darkly sensual. He picked up the rhythm of the music, that beat that pounded through his body. The crackling of the fire. The moans. The soft laughter. He lifted his head, throwing it back to look at the night sky as he let the flames streak up from his cock into his belly.

  Her pussy clenched at his shaft, squeezed the broad head until he thought he'd explode or lose his fucking mind. He glanced across the fire. Several others were closer than he'd realized, close enough that Anya might have objected had she been aware, but she was lost in him. He locked her tighter to him. It said something to him that he hadn't been aware of anyone getting that close. They were still on the other side of the fire, but he was just as lost in Anya as she was in him. He never had lost sight of where everyone was, no matter what.

  "Honey." Her voice was a soft plea.

  "No. Fucking no. You'll take me with you, and this isn't going to end. Not yet." He kept at her, holding her hips now, pistoning his body into hers. Burying himself deep.

  She rose to meet each thrust, the breath rushing out of her, her breasts jolting with every thrust. He loved that. Loved watching her face. Her body. Loved feeling her surrounding him with the ultimate fire.

  "Reaper." Soft. Entreating.

  "No. Fuck no."

  He pulled out, and she let out a wail. He flipped her over, caught her hips in his hands and yanked her up onto her knees, pulling her ass back to him. He knelt behind her, slammed home into that slick, hot inferno again. She cried out, the sound better than the music pounding all around him.

  He caught her hair in his fist and pulled her head back, so her back was a beautiful line. So her ass was high and he could be even deeper inside her. He'd like to hit her belly. Claim that. Claim her fucking throat. He knew he was a little out of control, a little wild, but he didn't let go often and she gave that to him. She never protested. She rocked back into him hard, her tits swinging, her throat making sweet little sounds that just egged him on.

  "Reaper. Honey, I have to let go."

  He smacked her ass hard. Harder than he meant to. Liquid gold, hotter than hell surrounded him. Felt like heaven. He added more swats, keeping with the rhythm of the music, bathing in her scorching gold. Wishing he could eat her and fuck her at the same time. His cock was swollen to the point of no return. His balls were drawn up tight, hot and needing to explode. He forced himself to wait for her next plea. She'd waited for him. He could do the same for her.

  "More," she whispered. "I'm going to go over the edge and I want more."

  He knew what she meant. Her nerve endings were on fire, so sensitive that when he smacked her bottom, the heat spread like wildfire. He gave her more until she was sobbing with need, pleading with him, begging him to let her come.

  "Now, baby. Give it to me now." He couldn't take one more second in that inferno.

  Her body clamped down so hard on his it hurt, an actual pain that shimmered through him, adding to the promise of paradise. She gripped and milked and his seed exploded out of him, jetting from him in bursts, splashing the walls of her sheath, triggering multiple tremors, shocks that rocked both of them.

  He collapsed over her, pressing her into the ground, his lungs fighting for air. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. The pleasure was too intense, shaking him. He'd had sex a million times, in a million ways, but nothing prepared him for the way it felt with Anya. He loved her beyond words. He hadn't known it was possible to love a woman, to love anyone that much. He fought for breath when his lungs seemed to have seized, refusing to work properly. When he could finally get some air, he pushed aside her hair and kissed the back of her neck. That vulnerable nape that sometimes drov
e him wild.

  "You okay, Anya?"

  "I don't know. What about you?"

  "Same here. Not certain I'm really alive. Fucking hell, woman. You nearly killed me."

  "I think that was all you."

  "In case you didn't hear what I was just telling you, Anya, I love you." He hadn't thought he'd ever say that where someone might overhear, but he didn't care. He wanted everyone to know. He wanted them to know she belonged to him and that he loved her above all else. He needed them to know if one hand touched her, he'd kill for her.

  "I love you too, Reaper," she returned softly and turned her head to the side. "When you get off me, I'm going to be stark naked."

  "I love you stark naked."

  "I know you do, but I don't like being naked in front of another club. It's hard enough in front of your club, but I understand their penchant for being naked and they really don't pay attention. The Demons aren't your club."

  He got her. He got what she was saying. He hadn't thought about it because he truly couldn't care less if they saw him naked, but she'd never once complained about anything and he was giving her this. He rose to his knees, pulled up his pants with one hand, the other on her back, holding her down. When she got the message, he zipped his jeans and moved around her, gathering her clothes. Once he was in front of her, blocking her from anyone possibly looking their way, he handed her the camisole and waited for her to put it on and lace up the front. Her jeans were next. She pulled them up her legs, lifted up and dragged them up her thighs.

  "I'm a mess," she whispered, as if everyone might hear her above the music.

  "You're beautiful."

  "I mean with you in me."

  "That's the best part. Love being in you, baby, it's fuckin' sexy."

  She sighed, rolled her eyes and pulled her jeans over her butt, going up on her knees to zip them closed. He loved that about her, no argument, no protesting, just keeping him in her. Smiling at him until he thought the sun might actually pierce the darkness around them.

  He dragged her to him and kissed that sexy mouth of hers. So sweet. Robbing him of his will, knowing she was wrapping him around her finger, she'd already managed to take his heart.