Origin of Jewel (The Restless Kings Motorcycle Club Book 3) by T. Ralston

Author:T. Ralston [Ralston, T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Jewel- one week later

“Don’t look!” I lean my chest over the sketchpad on the coffee table so he can’t see it. Hiding what I draw from him while he paces the house is tough. His place is less than 900 square feet and we’re constantly just right next to each other. He’s bored out of his mind and I’m starting to smell funky.

I still can’t shower, and sink baths aren’t working for me. Doc checked on my leg a couple days ago and said the stitches need to stay for at least another week. He also suggested that I take it easy because he could tell I haven’t been, but there’s not much to do while Zed and I are stuck here besides having sex, and so that’s what we’ve been filling most of our time with.

Zed groans and stomps over to me. He drops onto the couch behind me and rubs his hands up my back. His touch instantly makes me wet, like I’ve been conditioned to respond to him this way. “Are you never going to show me?”

“Maybe later.” My voice is shaky and husky. His hand slips down between my legs and rubs my pussy through my pants. The pencil falls out of my hand and I widen the distance between my knees where I’m kneeling on the floor.

“You dropped your pencil.”

“I know.” I don’t care about the pencil. There’s something else I’d rather do now that is so sweetly being offered up.

“You were busy drawing. Don’t let me interrupt.”

“I don’t mind the distraction.” I lean back against his hand, but he stops moving his fingers then.

“No. I want to try something different today. Pick it up.” He normally asks nicely, but hearing him demand something sets my breaths going faster. I lunge over the table for the pencil and then drop back to my knees. “Good girl,” he praises, rubbing one hand down my back while the other goes back to grinding against my clit. “Can you draw something for me?”

“Right now?”

“Mm-hmm. Right now. Draw how it feels.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.” But I flip to a clean page and hold the pencil to it. Zed’s hand presses harder against me and I moan, rocking against him and drawing curved lines all over the paper.

“That’s it. Damn, I can feel how wet you are through your pants.” His hand leaves my back and follows my arm up until he gets to my hand and directs the pencil back to the paper. “Don’t stop drawing.”

My hand moves without my brain telling it what to do. I can do this. Zed’s hands pull my pants and undies over my ass so slowly that I think I’m going to lose my mind. Circles draw themselves on the page. The anticipation of his next touch builds up until I’m wiggling and whimpering, begging for more.

He leaves my bottom half naked while he touches over my back, leaving my ass to the air. His fingers push my shirt up to my shoulders so I can feel the pattern he traces over my spine.

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