Rust or Ride – Lost Kings MC Read Online Autumn Jones Lake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
<<<<304048495051526070>145
Advertisement2


The corners of her mouth quirk. “Happy accident.”

“Indeed.” I wave my hand between us. “Continue.”

“This seems unfair,” she says, curling her fingers around the hem of my T-shirt.

“What?”

“Take this off. I want to see more of you.”

“This?” I pinch and pull the fabric away from my chest. “I thought you liked this shirt on me. Now you want me to take it off?” I frown with fake confusion.

Her mouth slides into a sly smile. “I do like it on you. But I think it’ll look even better over there.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder toward her desk.

“All right.” I strip it off and toss it next to her blouse.

She sucks in a quick breath. “Holy fuck, you’re hot.” Awkward laughter follows and she slaps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

I curl my fingers around her wrist and drag her hand away from her lips. “Why? I want you to like what you see.”

“Oh, I like. Very much.” She steps closer and lightly runs her fingertips over my shoulders, leaving a shivery sensation behind. My dick’s painfully close to punching a hole through my jeans.

Then, she leans in and presses a kiss over my heart.

For a second, I’m too stunned by the sweet gesture to respond. She lifts her gaze to mine. Even with the wicked smile playing over her lips, there’s something vulnerable shining in her eyes.

“Come here.” I grip her chin and tilt her head, then fuse my lips to hers. She mashes up tight against me. The silky fabric of her bra sliding over my skin. Her hands tickle along my spine, then sneak under the waistband of my jeans.

Together, we shuffle and nudge each other toward the bed. She hits it first and drops onto the mattress, breaking our kiss.

Quick and eager, she kneels in front of me and tugs at my belt. She has the lightest wash of freckles over her chest and shoulders. How did I miss those before?

“Easy.” I close my hand over hers. “There’s no rush.”

Her forehead crinkles and she pushes her lips into a playful pout. “But this looks painful.” She cups me through my jeans and rubs hard enough to make me groan.

Why am I trying to slow things down?

Because she’s not a quick fuck.

“I want to see you, first.” And I enjoy playing with her way too much.

She hooks her thumb under her bra strap, teasing it on and off her shoulder. “I’m right here.”

My gaze darts to her nightstand. How much can my playful girl handle? “Do you have any toys?”

“Toys?” She sits back on her heels and frowns. “Like Legos? Or sex toys?”

I choke on a laugh and shake my head. “Like a vibrator.”

Another frown and a twist of her lips to the side. “We already know you don’t need any assistance getting me there.”

Fuck, yes. I haven’t stopped thinking about the way she catches fire since that night on her couch. “True. But I still want to know if you have any.”

“Will you judge me if I say yes?”

“I’m the one who asked.” I step away and clasp my hands behind my back, like the good boy I’ll pretend to be for at least a few minutes. “Show me.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“No, that’s what you’ll be doing. Again and again tonight.” I locate a short stool in front of her dresser and roll it over to the end of her bed. I drop onto it carefully, praying the delicate thing can hold my weight.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

I guess it’s time to use plainer words. “I want to watch you get yourself off.”

She reels back and shifts to the middle of the bed. “No way.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” She sputters and looks around, like the answer can be found tangled in the blankets. “That’s personal.” She whispers the last word.

I stare her dead in the eyes. “I’ve had my tongue buried in your pussy. It doesn’t get more personal than that.”

The prettiest shade of pink spreads over her chest up to her cheeks. But she lifts her chin. “You’ve got a point,” she says with a boldness that seems to override her embarrassment. Her gaze drops to my belt. “Take your pants off and I’ll consider allowing you to meet Little Roger.”

Now I lift my eyebrows. “You named it Little Roger?”

She shrugs but blushes an even deeper shade of pink. “Like Roger Rabbit. Never mind.” Her nose wrinkles. “You’re not going to get jealous and try to throw him out, are you? I had a guy throw a tantrum once and I have to tell you, it was a very unmanly scene. Left my vagina drier than a pinecone.”

I choke on another laugh. Jesus Christ, the stuff that comes out of her mouth. Then I frown as I picture her here in this bed with another man.


Advertisement3

<<<<304048495051526070>145

Advertisement4