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

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Authors: Anne Malcom
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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

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