Read Online Rose (Road Kill MC #3) by Marata Eros - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marata Eros
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of his bike grows louder as he glides below the ground.
LED lights softly glow above our heads as we cruise past cars and bikes.
He finds his stall and rolls into the slot.
Noose shuts off the bike and kicks the stand out with his heel. Swinging off, he holds his hand out, and I take off the helmet. I felt claustrophobic the first couple times I wore it. Now I would feel naked without it.
I hand Noose the helmet, and he walks to a row of cages with cyclone fencing. Pulling a keyring from his pocket, he flicks out a tiny key then inserts it in a padlock. He walks inside, and I dismount, hopping as I land.
I follow him into a walk-in locker-type storage thing. Handmade shelves line the back and sides of the small space. Motorcycle parts, oil, the delicious WD-40 I always smell on him, and a bunch of miscellaneous tools decorate the shelves. There are also gloves, hoodies, and other outdoor stuff.
“Handy.”
Noose whips around at the sound of my voice, and suddenly, I'm in his arms and turned in one motion. He presses me up against the back of the cage, and I hit the pegboard full of tools.
Noose's hand braces my impact, and tools clatter to the ground like metal rain.
“What?” I ask, but his mouth is on mine. Tasting. Teasing. Killing me with his brutal insistence.
I want to cry. I want to beat my fists at the unseen enemy of fate for first taking my sister, then my nephew.
But Noose is real. He is here. Where destiny takes, it gives back.
He easily lifts me by my ass, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
“This okay, Rose? Because I have to… I have to—” He slams his mouth on mine.
“Yes,” I manage breathlessly.
We haven't even gotten to his condo yet, and all I can think about is his erection pressing into my stomach and his strong hands cradling my ass, widening the cradle of my hips to accept him.
“Noose!” I say into his mouth.
He yanks the front of my yoga pants down and slides his finger between the folds of my slit in one movement. I sigh in relief.
I need him. I need him like this. Exactly like what he does.
He moves his finger back and forth, pinning me against the peg board. A wrench or something grinds into my back, and the pain of the tool mixes with the friction of his finger.
It finally drops from his motion of sliding back and forth inside my labia. I'm soaked.
He dips the end of his finger inside me, and I yelp. The sensation is so raw, so necessary, that my head falls back and I jerk my hips forward, seeking more.
His finger sinks to the knuckle inside me, and we moan together.
“You're fucking killing me,” he says.
“Uh-huh,” I say, gripping his shoulders as I plunge up and down on his finger.
He adds another, and I still, my hips as far as they'll go. My forehead sways forward, and I bump his.
Noose's thighs pin my knees from beneath, holding my body weight, and he goes for it, finger fucking me as I'm spread against the wall.
“Please,” I whisper.
“On it, babe,” he says, his thumb driving into my clit as his fingers work deep inside.
“Come for me, Rose.”
I haven't thought about being in public until that moment. But the mere thought of someone catching us as I'm spread and on display has me coming in great deep pulses around his finger.
“Ah!” I scream, and Noose covers my mouth, kissing me as he lets up on the pressure on my clit.
I throb around his gently pumping fingers.
“Noose,” I breathe, sort of embarrassed now that the heat of the moment is cooling.
“Nah, babe, fucking blew up around my hand. I could do that twice a day for the rest of my life, and I'd never get tired of it.”
I open my eyes, and his luminescent gaze bores into me. “Really?” I ask in a voice heavy with spent lust.
“Better?” he asks.
I laugh instead of crying. He sees it. “No tears, Rose. I just gave you good hand.”
I laugh harder then finally manage, “Yes you did, Noose.”
His fingers withdraw slowly and with great care. I watch him lick
LED lights softly glow above our heads as we cruise past cars and bikes.
He finds his stall and rolls into the slot.
Noose shuts off the bike and kicks the stand out with his heel. Swinging off, he holds his hand out, and I take off the helmet. I felt claustrophobic the first couple times I wore it. Now I would feel naked without it.
I hand Noose the helmet, and he walks to a row of cages with cyclone fencing. Pulling a keyring from his pocket, he flicks out a tiny key then inserts it in a padlock. He walks inside, and I dismount, hopping as I land.
I follow him into a walk-in locker-type storage thing. Handmade shelves line the back and sides of the small space. Motorcycle parts, oil, the delicious WD-40 I always smell on him, and a bunch of miscellaneous tools decorate the shelves. There are also gloves, hoodies, and other outdoor stuff.
“Handy.”
Noose whips around at the sound of my voice, and suddenly, I'm in his arms and turned in one motion. He presses me up against the back of the cage, and I hit the pegboard full of tools.
Noose's hand braces my impact, and tools clatter to the ground like metal rain.
“What?” I ask, but his mouth is on mine. Tasting. Teasing. Killing me with his brutal insistence.
I want to cry. I want to beat my fists at the unseen enemy of fate for first taking my sister, then my nephew.
But Noose is real. He is here. Where destiny takes, it gives back.
He easily lifts me by my ass, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
“This okay, Rose? Because I have to… I have to—” He slams his mouth on mine.
“Yes,” I manage breathlessly.
We haven't even gotten to his condo yet, and all I can think about is his erection pressing into my stomach and his strong hands cradling my ass, widening the cradle of my hips to accept him.
“Noose!” I say into his mouth.
He yanks the front of my yoga pants down and slides his finger between the folds of my slit in one movement. I sigh in relief.
I need him. I need him like this. Exactly like what he does.
He moves his finger back and forth, pinning me against the peg board. A wrench or something grinds into my back, and the pain of the tool mixes with the friction of his finger.
It finally drops from his motion of sliding back and forth inside my labia. I'm soaked.
He dips the end of his finger inside me, and I yelp. The sensation is so raw, so necessary, that my head falls back and I jerk my hips forward, seeking more.
His finger sinks to the knuckle inside me, and we moan together.
“You're fucking killing me,” he says.
“Uh-huh,” I say, gripping his shoulders as I plunge up and down on his finger.
He adds another, and I still, my hips as far as they'll go. My forehead sways forward, and I bump his.
Noose's thighs pin my knees from beneath, holding my body weight, and he goes for it, finger fucking me as I'm spread against the wall.
“Please,” I whisper.
“On it, babe,” he says, his thumb driving into my clit as his fingers work deep inside.
“Come for me, Rose.”
I haven't thought about being in public until that moment. But the mere thought of someone catching us as I'm spread and on display has me coming in great deep pulses around his finger.
“Ah!” I scream, and Noose covers my mouth, kissing me as he lets up on the pressure on my clit.
I throb around his gently pumping fingers.
“Noose,” I breathe, sort of embarrassed now that the heat of the moment is cooling.
“Nah, babe, fucking blew up around my hand. I could do that twice a day for the rest of my life, and I'd never get tired of it.”
I open my eyes, and his luminescent gaze bores into me. “Really?” I ask in a voice heavy with spent lust.
“Better?” he asks.
I laugh instead of crying. He sees it. “No tears, Rose. I just gave you good hand.”
I laugh harder then finally manage, “Yes you did, Noose.”
His fingers withdraw slowly and with great care. I watch him lick
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