The Road to Rose Bend by Naima Simone (best book club books of all time txt) 📕

used his bigger frame to guide her backward across the floor to the couch. Later he might question his dexterity, but now, with her tongue dancing with his and her sexy-as-hell whimpers disappearing into his mouth, he just thanked God for it. Shifting them, he sank to the cushions, cupping the backs of her legs and arranging her in a straddle across his thighs. With rough hands, he grabbed the hem of her hoodie and jerked it up and over her head, tossing it to the seat beside them.

Her breasts plumped against his chest, and the swell of her belly pressed to his abdomen. The lush flesh with the taut, beaded tips. The hard bump that protected the baby she was willing to sacrifice it all for... The curves screamed what kind of woman she was—soft, giving, selfless, nurturing. He tore his mouth away from hers. Dragged it over her jaw, down the line of her throat, paused to indulge in finally worshipping the strength and grace of her collarbone before lowering his head to the mounds pushing over the top of her black tank.

Reverently, he swept his lips back and forth over one breast and then the other. Inhaling her rich orchid scent. It emanated from the shadowed cleft that beckoned him, and he followed, trailing that line with his tongue. Her nails bit into his shoulders, a delicious whimper escaping her. She squirmed on his lap, her sex rocking over his cock. Even though her shorts and panties separated them, he swore her heat seared him. He shuddered beneath her, his fingers digging into her hips, helping her ride him, urging her to work harder. Faster.

“Is that what you want, baby girl?” He grazed one nipple with his lips, then with a hint of teeth. Her breathless cry had his hips grinding between her legs over that so soft, undoubtedly sweet flesh that he’d only sampled in his dirtiest dreams. “Tell me. Give me the words. Is this what you need? Do you want more?” He punctuated the hoarse question by capturing the other peak between the edge of his teeth and tugging. Then treating it to a short, greedy suck.

She bowed tight, her hands flying to his head. Trying to push him back down to her chest.

“The words, baby girl,” he ordered, holding her still and rolling his erection over her. He could take her full-body shiver as an answer, but he needed her voice. Needed her assent. Needed to hear that he wasn’t alone in this.

Yeah, he was a greedy bastard.

“Yes,” she said. “More. Give me more.”

That’s all he needed. Drawing hard on her, he lashed the rigid tip with his tongue, and she tipped her head back on her shoulders, her hold on him a vise grip. Another of those needy sounds tore from her and vibrated against his lips. Another. He hungered for another. And another. In this moment, his life’s mission became eliciting more of them.

Releasing one hip, he brushed his hand over her lower belly and slipped his fingers inside the low-hanging top of her shorts. He paused, waiting to see if she would object. Taking her whimpered “please” as permission, he dipped lower until his fingertips encountered soft, drenched flesh. Oh fuck.

“You’re so wet, baby girl,” he murmured, sliding between her folds, dampening his fingers then returning to that swelled button crowning her sex. He circled it, teasing, taunting, his touch gentle. “For me?”

“Please,” she pleaded again, and that word, that tone...

Hell, she could have the damn world right now. She undulated over him, her movements jerky, uncontrolled. He loved that he could do this to her.

“I promised you, didn’t I? I never go back on my word,” he snarled.

He firmed his caress, drawing tighter circles, stroking and rubbing. Cries spilled from her and she became frantic, bucking and twisting over him, chasing his touch, chasing pleasure. Beneath his fingertips, her clit stiffened, and a feral satisfaction bloomed in his chest. So close. This was his first time with her like this and already it was as if her body was as familiar as his own.

Lifting his free hand, he yanked down the edge of her top, baring her breast to him. Opening his mouth wide, he sucked the flesh into his mouth, curling his tongue and tugging. Savoring. Feasting.

Feverishly shaking her head, she choked back a scream, went rigid and came. With a curse, he worked her sex, giving her every measure of the orgasm. He whispered praise against her breast, urging her to take it all, not to hold back. As if the words spurred her on, she bucked and writhed until her body sagged against his, her face buried in his neck.

His body ached with unfulfilled lust. His dick throbbed, loudly demanding to be buried in the sweet flesh his fingers had just enjoyed. But he did nothing to provide that relief. Because he might not have satisfied his physical needs, but contentment hummed within him.

Gently, he stroked a hand down her back, nuzzling her hair. And he shifted his other hand to the small bump of her stomach. He felt her tension, but he cradled her belly, sweeping a thumb back and forth. Slowly, the rigidity seeped from her, and once more she relaxed, curving her body into his.

His.

She’d agreed to be his. To place herself and her baby under his protection, even if it was in name only.

He closed his eyes, and a trickle of unease infiltrated his peace.

Please let him be doing the right thing.

For all of them.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SHE’D DONE IT.

She’d married Cole Dennison.

In front of God and country. Well, at least the small part of the country that gathered at The Glen. Yep. She and Cole had held their wedding and, now, reception, in the midst of the motorcycle rally. Family, friends and bikers and vendors from all over the country had witnessed their union.

Elation. That’s what should be rushing through her, lifting her as high as the group of balloons that bobbed