Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 45

Wren

The request zings through my body, my core pulsing, aching. I nod.

"You words, baby girl." His voice is hoarse, deeper than normal.

Even though the garage is darkened, some lights illuminate him enough to see his face clearly, and even the bulge in his jeans.

I nod again. "Y-yes."

He smiles, and pushes his hands into my gown, dragging my panties down my legs. He stares at it.

"This one's red," he says, pocketing the lace.

Heat burns my cheeks, cool air brushing against me.

He taps my knee. "Raise this leg, Birdie."

And I do. My dress bunches up on my waist and Ezra quickly shrugs off his jacket, tossing it over my thighs.

"Fuck," he groans, giving his length a small squeeze. "I could come just from looking at you like this. Do you have any idea how sexy this is? You're naked, and dripping...on my bike."

My cheeks redden some more. "You're filthy."

"You're sexy," he whispers, raising the jacket, and leaning closer.

His breath brushes against me. "I'm definitely taking this bike out of here after tonight. No one deserves to see it, not after you're going to paint it with your come."

God, this man and his words.

"Ezr—oh!"

A long swipe of his tongue between my thighs interrupts my words.

My eyes roll to the back of my head, hands flying into his hair. He groans against me.

The sound vibrates through my center, and up my chest. I shudder. "F-fuuucckkk..."

And then he feasts, lapping at me like a man starved, teeth nipping softly.

My legs shake, my whole body trembles.

"Ez-zraaaa....oh f-f...ohhhh."

Moans fall from my lips helplessly, eyes pinched shut in ecstasy.

A hand reaches up and palms my breast, flicking my nipples. I roll my hips against his tongue, meeting him thrust for thrust

"Yess," he growls, gripping my waist. "Take what you want. Fucking use my mouth, my tongue, fuck, yess."

Those words on my core snaps something in me, and I'm bucking, thrashing, rocking my hips against his tongue.

It's wild, frantic. And it feels so so good.

"P-please," I beg.

I don't know what I'm begging for, or what I need, but the plea tumbles out of my lips in chants.

His tongue is hot, wet and slick, beards chafing my thighs. But I love it, god, I dooo.

The squelching wet sound echoes in the garage, the hum in the air cackles against my skin.

Pleasure coils in my tummy, my breath choppy, and lips falling open as wanton cries spill past.

And then a finger slips in.

"Fuuucckkkk," I choke out, eyes flying open. I grip his hair, liquid warmth seeping out of me.

He pumps his finger as quickly as his tongue. My knees shake, and he holds the one on the bike, spreading me further apart.

My stomach tightens, spine tingling as my orgasm builds, and builds and builds. Everything in me tightens.

"I'm about t-t-t—" His palm finds my mouth, and I hold onto it.

Then, his finger curls deep inside of me. "Come for me."

I explode on a muffled scream, back arching, and core pulsing as Ezra laps up everything.

My vision goes white, legs shaking violently, as I twitch, rolling my hips and riding out my orgasm.

He flicks his tongue one last time, and I shudder.

Ezra raises his head. His pupils are dilated, and lips glistening. He swipes his tongue across it.

The sight has no business being as sexy as it is, and something about that has me slamming my lips against his.

He hums low in his throat, our tongues pushing together.

Slowly, he rises to his feet, not breaking the kiss.

I taste myself on his tongue, brushing my hands against his very hard length.

He hisses, dick jerking at my touch.

I scramble for his belt, my shaky hands unhooking it.

His grip stops me, and he rests his forehead on mine, panting. "Not here, baby, fuck, not here. Someone could see us."

Ezra tugs me down from the bike, and my knees buckle. His arm shoots out, hooking around my waist.

"I've got you," he grunts. "Jesus, you're trembling."

Another shudder works through my body, and I wrap my arms around his waist. He rights my dress, covering me up.

Then, he smacks my ass, and squeezes hard.

"Oh god," I gasp, hugging him tighter.

"Shit," he swears. "Let's go home, birdie. Come on."

My eyes flutter open, but I quickly squeeze them shut against the harsh sunlight, wincing.

A dull ache throbs between my thighs, and a wide smile stretches across my lips, eyes gently opening to adjust to the light.

The other side of the bed feels cold, and when I look over, my smile is bigger. A small gift box sits beside me.

I sit up, the blanket pooling around my waist and I open the gift. It's a hair clip, white and pretty.

The moment I pin it in my hair, the door opens and Ezra walks in with a large shopping bag.

He does a double take when he sees me. "Thought you'd still be asleep."

"Good morning to you too." I grin. "I got your gift," I say, patting the hair clip.

His eyes soften. "I knew it'd look good on you. But I must say, it's satisfying to see you like this."

Gray eyes dip to my exposed breasts, and he smirks. A proud look on his face.

Confused, I look down too and my jaw drops. Splashes of pink decorate my screen, and I rush into the bathroom.

Sure enough, hickeys are all over my neck, chest, stomach...everywhere. I turn and see more across my back, and on my ass.

I march out and he holds a hand up.

"Before you yell at me, you destroyed my skin too. Look." He shrugs off his shirt, and I gasp.

He's right.

Except that his skin isn't decorated with hickeys, but instead, with claw marks.

His back is pink, stripes running across them, some criss-crossing.

"Jesus, Ezra." I skim the marks. "This looks like it hurts."

"Good thing I've got a high tolerance for pain."

A sound works out of my throat. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey." He cups my face, "–none of that. Don't apologise for having a good time. You're perfect."

His lips press against mine in a soft, sweet kiss. My heart swells, and I lean into him.

"Good morning, Birdie." He pecks my forehead, and I nearly melt into a puddle.

My cheeks heat, and I avert my gaze. "G-good morning."

"I got you something else." He points to the bag at the foot of the bed.

"Really? More gifts?" I squeal, eyes shining.

He laughs, and nods. "Yup."

I put on the shirt he removed, and grab the bag.

Eager hands pull out the items in it, and I pout in sheer joy when I see the white two piece he got for me, and matching sandals.

"Aw, Ezra, these are beautiful," I gush, holding the dress up. "Are we going somewhere?"

He rolls his lips into his mouth, and breathes.

"Yea," he says. "I...I want to take you to a birthday party."

I raise a brow, turning fully to him. "Oh okaaayy. Whose birthday?"

His gaze flickers in uncertainty. "My nephew."

I blink. "You have a nephew?"

"I have an elder sister, Elizabeth," he replies. "So yea, it's her son's birthday."

My frown deepens. "Wow, I know next to nothing about you."

"And that's entirely on me." He shrugs. "Being the VP, I have a lot to lose."

"Does Ray know?"

"He does."

"So... why are you telling me now?"

He softens, stepping closer. "Fuck if I know, Birdie. I guess I'm letting you in."

My breath catches, his words playing over and over again in my mind.

I'm letting you in.

My heart flutters with an array of emotions, but one sticks out to me.

Fear.

It wraps around my chest, chilling me to the bone.

I'm scared—no, terrified—that it won't take long until I fall in love with him. Until my every being is consumed by him.

Right now, my heart is almost on the line.

And I know without a doubt that it will complicate every single thing.