Beyond the Horizon (The Sons of Templar MC Book 4) (5 page)

I shook my head as he fastened a helmet on it. I resisted a giggle and the double meaning to my answer.

His fingers paused at the clasp. “Just lean with me, I promise you, it’s the best feeling on the planet,” he told me quietly.

He mounted the bike, and without any hesitation, any overthinking that usually crippled me, I swung on behind him, pressing my body against his.

We hurtled off into the night.

He was wrong. Riding with him wasn’t the best feeling on the planet. His lips on mine was the best feeling. The bike came a close second.

On the bike there was no way to talk. No need to be aware of myself the way I always was. I was free. Free from the shackles of my self-doubt, of my anxiety. There was only the road and Asher’s warm body.

It was over all too soon, when we pulled up to a gate beyond which I knew lay the Sons of Templar clubhouse. Everyone in Amber knew this place. The girls I went to school with, the beautiful, popular ones, made it their mission to go to the parties they held there every Friday, though they weren’t successful. The club was strict about underage girls, so they’d been snubbed until they were eighteen anyway.

Asher nodded to someone beyond the wire fence and the gate opened to us.

Here I was, getting a glimpse into the place that had both fascinated and feared me throughout my life.

I hadn’t been like those girls at school, desperate to get the notoriously attractive men in the Sons to notice them. I hadn’t been intoxicated with the idea of a romance with an outlaw. Romance, in general, wasn’t on my radar. In order to have a romance, you had to be able to speak to the opposite sex. I wasn’t crash hot on that. I opted for steamy books instead and focusing on my studies and my future.

After Asher had pulled me off his bike, we walked to the clubhouse in silence. It was a structure separated from the garage that was also within the compound, it had a big wraparound porch and some fire drums which had a couple of people milling around. It was mostly deserted. As was the room we emerged into, one that looked like a huge living room, with a sofa, a big television, a bar and a pool table. My wide eyes didn’t get time to inspect this, Asher’s hand was tight on mine, and he all but dragged us into a hallway then into a room which ran off it. When he shut the door behind us, I barely had time to take in the small, tidy room which didn’t have much other than a bed and dresser.

I was yanked around, and Asher’s mouth was on mine before I realized I was alone. In a room. With a hot guy. All thoughts that could cripple me were silenced with Asher’s mouth on mine. With his roving hands that ran down my body, roughly cupping my breasts.

I moaned into his mouth. No one had ever touched me, kissed me like that in my life. I pressed my body into his, mindless need dictating my emotions. Nothing else. He was treating me like a woman. A woman he desired. One who was beautiful. Even if this was only for a night, I’d suck out every piece of tonight I could.

His hands went to my ass, and he lifted me so my legs wrapped around his waist.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, flower,” he murmured, mouth inches from mine. “Can’t wait to taste that pussy,” he continued, then he dropped me onto the bed.

I lay there, my mind swirling with desire at his words, at the hungry look on his face. A look that was directed at me. I stared as he quickly tossed his leather vest into the corner of the room, and my eyes widened when he yanked his gray tee over his head. Abs, like a fricking six pack assaulted my eyes.

“Dude,” I whispered. “It’s like you’re photoshopped.” I unintentionally quoted one of my favorite movies, but that was how it looked to me right now. It couldn’t possibly be real. A man like that, wanting a girl like me?

A grin rippled through the hunger on his face, and he moved to lie on top of me on the bed, his bare, hard skin pressing into mine while he watched my face.

“You’re full of surprises, flower, it’s hotter than anything,” he murmured against my lips.

He kissed the bejesus out of me, then moved his mouth downward. He nuzzled my neck a moment then lifted his head. He regarded my button up dress for a minute, then his hands went to either side and, I kid you not, ripped it apart.

The buttons went flying everywhere.

I didn’t even care about the fate of my dress, about the fact it meant I’d be stumbling out of here in only my bathing suit. Nothing mattered the moment he hissed as he exposed my breast and sucked on my nipple.

Every nerve ending in my body tingled at this, I rubbed my thighs together at the feeling building in between them. I’d never known his beautiful mouth would feel so good on my breasts. I knew what orgasms were. I’d given them to myself before. I knew in this moment, whatever was coming would eclipse those pitiful excuses.

“You gonna come with just my mouth on your nipple, flower?” Asher muttered, and cold air bit my naked breast.

I didn’t have the constitution to mutter anything intelligible, only looked at him through my lashes.

“You’re gonna come in my mouth,” he growled.

My stomach dipped.

“You want that?” he asked his voice hoarse.

His hands trailed my stomach and I sucked in a breath as he dipped down my bare skin. I could only nod as his fingers explored the skin no man had ever touched.

“I want you to tell me what you want,” he murmured, his finger making lazy circles.

“I w-want,” I stuttered, and my breath came in pants as he kept making those circles.

He stopped, his eyes on mine. “You want what?”

“Don’t stop,” I moaned.

He grinned. “Tell me what you want. Then I’ll eat you, baby, taste your honey on my tongue.”

“I want that, I want your mouth,” I whispered.

His entire face darkened. “Where, baby?”

His fingers began to move again, this time dancing at my entrance.

“My pussy,” I whispered, just as his finger plunged into me.

His entire body froze as I cried out in pleasure, on the edge of climax.

His eyes locked on mine. His face turned blank.

“Tell me you’re not a fucking virgin,” he clipped, the cords in his neck tight.

I froze as I realized the look on his face. I felt my face redden. “I’m sorry, I forgot to mention,” I said in a small voice.

All I wanted to do was scramble away, hide my embarrassment, and never look at another man again. But his body was on mine, holding me hostage the same way his stare was.

“How the fuck,” he ground out, “does someone forget they’re a virgin?”

I tried to move, but his free hand, the one not inside me, pressed against my chest. “You don’t need to move to answer,” he stated firmly.

I stared at him, feeling my eyes prickle slightly, residual arousal from his body, his finger, making it hard to think straight.

“Well,” I started, unable to tear my eyes from his, “first it was the tequila, I was kind of drunk off that. Then it was you,” I whispered and his eyes flared. “I got drunk off you. Off the fact that you talked to me. You wanted me. You kissed me. All I wanted, all I want is more. You made me forget I hadn’t had more before,” I admitted in a small voice.

I was embarrassed. No, mortified. The sexy outlaw biker was probably disgusted at the naïve, plain virgin in his bed. One that could hardly string a cohesive sentence together. Whatever was working behind his attractive eyes right now was probably along the lines of how to get rid of me.

“I’ll leave. I’m sorry,” I whispered brokenly.

Asher jolted. He gently began to move the finger inside me. I sucked in a breath. His hand cradled my face and his expression gentled.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, his finger moving slowly. “Are you sure this is what you want, Lily?” he asked seriously, his finger still moving. “To give this to me, someone you barely know. Are you sure this is how you want this to go?”

My eyes rolled back slightly, pleasure starting to radiate to my toes with the work of his fingers. My eyes found his. In that moment, I was lucid. “I’m sure. I want it to be you,” I whispered with certainty.

We were silent for a long moment, something impossible passing between us, something that could only be a figment of my imagination. Because the connection that I felt was not a connection you made with someone you’d just met.

Asher’s eyes were glowing. “You just gave me the greatest fuckin’ gift, one I don’t deserve, but one I’m taking nonetheless,” he murmured. “You got no idea how fuckin’ hard it makes me, knowing no one else has been in here,” he said, pressing into me.

I made a little sound as his finger built the fire inside me, stretching me as another one joined it.

“I might not deserve it. Might not be the best one to take this from you,” he continued, kissing me softly. “I don’t do gentle,” his hands, his kiss contradicted him, “but I will own you, possess every inch of you, and make sure you feel me for a week after this,” he promised.

He moved down my stomach, and all of a sudden, his mouth fastened against my clit. I didn’t even think, I screamed at the pleasure that came from his mouth, his fingers. It was foreign, something I’d never imagined. It felt bad, naughty. So bad it was so good.

My breath was coming in pants, and I really hoped I wouldn’t have to lean over and scramble for my inhaler. That would totally kill the mood, and cement my nerd status in front of this sex god for the rest of eternity. But this was a different kind of breathless, the good kind. I didn’t think a pleasure this good existed, one that made me forget to breathe—where breathing seemed unimportant.

Then it came. An explosion, an earth shattering orgasm that made me see stars, and that caused my whole body to convulse. I called out his name at the peak. Asher was gone a moment, I heard a drawer open, foil crinkle, then he was back on top of me.

His hand spanned my head, and he kissed me slowly, the taste of me on his tongue making me twitch with arousal once more.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he told me with dark eyes.

I sucked in a breath. I wasn’t nervous. I was impatient. “I want you inside me. Now,” I ordered, with a brazenness I didn’t know I possessed.

Asher’s eyes flared. “You need to tell me, babe, if it hurts,” he instructed as he positioned himself at my entrance.

I knew it would hurt. I’d read the literature, heard the horror stories. Listened to Bex recount the disaster of her first time. But the man on top of me, the post orgasm cloud I was floating on, made this prospect inconsequential. I needed to be filled with him. Needed him to claim me. I’d treasure it forever.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, my arousal causing me to utter a phrase that would never have normally come from my lips.

His eyes turned hooded and then he was inside me. Not slow, not gentle, he plunged right in. To the hilt.

It hurt. Mingled with the remaining pleasure was a sharp jolt of pain. It wasn’t pleasant. It hurt like a bitch if I was honest. For a split second, I was unsure if I would be able to handle the pain, if this could ever feel good. But I knew it would evolve. Be good. Be great.

His whole body was tight, his eyes on mine. “Flower, you okay?” he asked softly.

I wrapped my arms around him, clawing at his back, focusing on his eyes. “I need you to move,” I ordered hoarsely. I needed him to do something, make me think about something other than the pain, help build up the pleasure I hoped was coming.

I had barely uttered the phrase when he did as I commanded, thrusting into me hard and slow. His eyes never left mine as he fucked me, my body growing accustomed to him, welcoming him.

“So fuckin’ tight, baby,” he ground out. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

I wrapped my legs around him, needing more contact. “Faster,” I ordered.

Asher immediately complied, pushing into me with an intensity that stoked a fire that burned within me.

It was coming. I knew it. Another orgasm that would shatter my world.

Asher’s body knifed up slightly, so he could thrust into me even harder, my hips moved in tandem with his, meeting him for each beautiful thrust.

“Fuck, baby,” he ground out through his teeth. “For a virgin, you take my cock like you were born to it.” His head bent forward to capture mine.

The moment his kiss began to ravage me was the moment I exploded. It was better than with his mouth, I milked his own release, and he shuddered on top of me as I rode the last of my waves of pleasure.

We lay there, him on top of me breathing heavily.

He leaned up and kissed my nose. “You okay, flower?” he asked softly, his eyes searching my face with worry.

I smiled dreamily at him. “Yeah. I’m okay,” I whispered the biggest understatement of the year. The century.

I was sated, happy, elated, and everything in between. I had just lost my frigging virginity. To a smoking hot biker, who I never thought would even give me a second glance let alone take me to bed and look at me like I was some supermodel. Someone special.

He pulled out of me gently and cupped my jaw. “Don’t move,” he commanded softly.

I smiled at him again. “No chance of that, buddy. I’m delightfully content staying in this spot for oh ... the rest of time,” I joked, in a manner that was so not me. But somehow was at the same time. The me of this moment at least.