Lash (Page 25)

“Yes, I have.” His c**k pulsed realising he’d deflowered his woman. No other man was ever going to know the pleasure or feel of her tight cunt. Only him.

“You’re happy about that,” she said.

“Baby, you’re all mine.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. Her hand was trapped against his heart. She didn’t have any idea how much she meant to him. Angel was the only woman who’d ever have a real place in his heart and his life. All the other women who’d come before her meant nothing.

“Lash?” she said, kissing him back.

“Yeah, sweetness.”

“You can move now. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Pulling away he stared down in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I want you to move.” Her hands went to his forearms holding onto him.

Her pu**y clenched around his c**k like a fist. “I’ll only move if you’re sure.”

“I want you, Lash. Please, finish what you started.”

She arched up toward him. Her cunt tightened further, and he knew she was doing it.

Taking hold of her hands in his, he locked them by her head.

“I’m ready, Lash.”

He took her at her word and eased out of her tight heat. She let out a moan but didn’t fight him. Gazing down between them, he watched her cream glisten on his shaft. When only the tip remained inside he looked up into her eyes.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded and closed her eyes. The expression on her face showed wonder. Lash stared at her face watching the different emotions flit across her face as he slowly made love to her. He eased into her tight heat, swivelled his h*ps and pulled out. There was no rush to his movements. He drew everything out, loving the way she responded to his touch. Her hands tightened on his forearms, and Lash knew, without a doubt, that he was lost to everything else.

He felt each ripple of her pu**y. She was close to coming. Angel thrust up to meet him, and together they made love. Lash felt he was making love for the first time. The emotions consuming him were unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Leaving one of her hands beside her head, he reached down and stroked her clit.

“I want you to come for me, baby,” he said.

The touches on her cl*t made her cunt tighten around him. Groaning out at the pleasure, Lash stayed still waiting for Angel to come before he let himself explode over the edge.

This was a night of firsts. He was Angel’s first and last man, and she was the first woman he’d ever cared enough about to make love to. She was his whole world, and he wasn’t letting her go. No matter what she thought about him after the problem with her Dad was handled. He’d make her love him.

“Lash,” she said, crying out.

Her cunt tightened, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He thrust inside her tight heat, feeling the walls of her pu**y and the cream spilling from her with her orgasm.

She went over the edge, and seconds later Lash joined her, growling out her name as his seed filled her.

For a few seconds, he hoped she fell pregnant and he’d have a reason to keep her close to him for the rest of his life.

Slamming his lips down on hers, he claimed her pleasured cries and basked in what they meant.

Chapter Ten

Lash collapsed on top of her. Angel wrapped her arms around his back, stroking his skin. She was tired yet not. It was really strange how she was feeling. From the look of the world outside the sun was rising up in the sky, but she wasn’t ready to go to sleep. Lash had made love to her. She knew he hadn’t f**ked her because she’d seen what f**king was all about in the club. What she’d shared with Lash had nothing to do with that and everything to do with making love.

She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. There was no chance of a loving future with Lash. He wasn’t the type of man to settle down, and she couldn’t handle a future with worrying about what he was up to. She could already see herself pacing the house, checking the clock wondering if he was f**king someone else and he’d come to her when he was done.

Pushing those thoughts out of her mind as well, Angel just allowed herself the luxury of stroking his body. She pictured the tattoo on his back and smiled. He was the first man to ever make her feel small and delicate.

“I’ll move in a second. I just need some time to get feeling back into my body,” he said, kissing her shoulder.

Angel giggled. She couldn’t help herself.

“Was I that good?” she asked.

“You’ve no idea how amazing that was.” Lash leaned up and looked down at her. In one swift move he changed their positions so she was on top and he was on the bottom.

“I’m never going to get used to that,” she said.

“What?”

“You being able to move me so easily. I’m not used to it.” She tucked some hair behind her ear and smiled down at him. “However, I could get used to being on top.” Straddling his waist with his c**k still deep inside her, Angel sat up. She traced his muscles and the lines of his tattoos. His skin was darker for being outside more. Her hands were incredibly pale in comparison.

“You made me proud tonight,” he said, reaching up to cup her breast.

She let out a moan when he pinched her nipple. The action sent a new wave of lust straight to her core.

“When?”

“When you danced on the table with Tate.”

“I thought you were angry with me dancing?” She hadn’t been so drunk she’d forgotten what was going on. The whiskey had given her the courage to have a good time. Talking with Tate and watching everyone have fun she’d wanted to be like them for at least once in her life. Her mother hadn’t wanted her to get involved with the bikers and did everything she could to keep her away.

Getting to know The Skulls had shown they were a bunch of guys with their own code. Lash wasn’t mean or evil. He simply didn’t live to what society expected. She was starting to see the thrill of it. Lash had explained what the club was really all about, and part of her wanted in. She didn’t want them to judge her when so many had. Her name alone was enough to make people start to assume things about her.

Fortunately, Lash had taken care of her little problem.

“I didn’t hate your dancing, baby. I loved your dancing. I was proud because you were dancing for yourself and with Tate.”

“I don’t know what you mean?” she said, confused.

“The sweet-butts dance to entice and to draw the guys in. You weren’t looking for any attention. I saw it in your eyes. The only thing you were interested in was letting go. It’s the same for Rose. She doesn’t dance for Hardy or to tease the guys. She dances because she loves it.” His hands settled on her hips.