Fallen Rider (A Lost Saxons Novel Book 7) by Jessica Ames

Author:Jessica Ames [Ames, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-23T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Dane leads me back into the building, his grip on me firm and reassuring. My heart is hammering so hard, I swear he must be able to feel my pulse through our combined touch.

The heat is welcome as we step back inside and I didn’t realise how cold it was outside until my skin starts to prickle.

We pass a couple of brothers as we move through the labyrinth of corridors, but Dane keeps moving without acknowledging them. I trail after him like a lost puppy, filled with anticipation of what’s to come.

He leads me up the stairs, and then unlocks a door off the corridor. It’s dark inside and the music from the common room is a dull thump this far from the action. My heart is hammering beneath my ribs as he fumbles for the light. When he finally finds it, the space is illuminated, revealing what looks like a small budget hotel room. There’s a double bed, made up with a navy-blue duvet set, and a chest of drawers on one wall, two bedside tables, and an old two-seater sofa on the opposite wall. There’s a door that is open into what appears to be an en-suite bathroom—something we didn’t get in our room. It’s a surprisingly pleasant space.

He leans around me, his face nearly in my neck, as he slides the lock in place. I’m not sure if it’s possible to cease breathing through anticipation, but I may.

“Kenzie?”

I smile at my name on his lips.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?”

I nod because I absolutely want him to fuck me.

He grins, then he goes to work on my neck. And I mean he goes to work. He sweeps my hair aside and kisses the dip between my throat and shoulder until I’m a writhing mess. I dig my fingers into his bicep to keep standing as I breathe hard. What is he doing? His hand stays locked to the back of my neck while his other teases the hem of my sweater up.

His touch ghosts up my belly, eliciting shivers from me, before it slips into my bra. He starts to play with my nipple and I twitch against the touch. I’m going to come from this alone if he keeps it up.

Blindly, I fumble towards him, and manage to get a hand to his jeans. I have no idea what I’m doing because my brain is short-circuiting, but I rub my hand up and down his cock, which is hardening beneath the denim. He’s enjoying this as much as I am.

I gasp suddenly when he tweaks my nipple hard enough to bite.

“Sorry, baby. Too hard?”

I shake my head. I want him to keep going.

“You like it a little rough?”

I shrug. I’ve never had it rough. The guys I’ve been with previously were not the rough and ready type. Vanilla is the word that springs to mind.

Dane makes a sound in the back of his throat that may be a laugh, I’m not sure. I don’t care either.

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