Broken Crescent (Devil's Sons Motorcycle Club Book 2) by Kathryn Thomas Page A

pressed against his. Gradually, she started again. The in and out drag of her penetrating middle finger made Afia bite back cries of pleasure. It was the fantasy that made the arousal burn hotter, the idea of him having his way with her.
     
    He slid a hand between her legs and cupped her mons, pressing her finger deeper. Afia whimpered. Sam groaned in desire. He was losing the battle to stay away from her physically. She wasn’t fighting fair. It had to be biological warfare to crawl naked into his bed and expect him not to touch her.
     
    He growled softly with frustrated need. His mouth slipped to her shoulder to close around the dusky skin. His tongue flicked against her flesh. He tasted the sweet coconut oil she had used to oil herself. He smelled the jasmine and honey perfume. He groaned again.
     
    “Let me help you with that,” Sam sighed. His mouth slid over her shoulder to the side of her neck as she moved into his arms with a wanton moan that spoke volumes about how she really felt about his move to not have sex with her. Sam chuckled, surprised. “My darling,” he murmured, sucking at her throbbing pulse. Her hair fluttered around his face, tickling his cheeks. He smiled against her jugular. “I’ve kept you waiting, haven’t I?”
     
    He rolled Afia onto her back and slipped over her, settling between her widespread legs and feeling her pelvis press against his anxiously. His pajama bottoms provided minimal barrier. He could feel her heat, her moisture like a thundercloud ready to unleash. Her hands flew to his neck and her nails raked down his back. Sam dropped his mouth to Afia’s and kissed her like he had wanted to do for ages. She melted. She flowed in his arms as languidly as a river, molding to his body. Her legs eased up and round his hips, heels locking at the back of his thighs, moving restlessly up and down the back of his legs.
     
    Sam sipped at her tongue, flicking his tongue against the roof of her mouth. He licked and sucked her lips. He slanted his mouth against hers, as she mewled and whimpered with abandonment. Each small sound of pleasure and desire battered his senses and spiked his lust. He couldn’t hold back from her.
     
    Her breasts were round and full, dark nipples beckoning to him. Sam moved his face down to her chest to rest his nose in her cleavage. Inhaling deeply, he smiled against her skin.
     
    “I thought I didn’t pique your interest anymore,” she confessed in a breathless sigh.  Her spine arched, and she pressed his face to her breasts. His mouth moved to her nipple. Sam slid his wet, silky tongue around the areola and tugged the nipple into his mouth, suckling. Her fingers ran through his unruly hair. “Ah! Yes,” she gasped.
     
    Her womanhood throbbed against his cock. He could feel it through his pants. Sam desperately clung to her waist and pressed her back down to the bed to ease some of the tension. If he didn’t, he would let go before he had even gotten in good. He groaned, sucking from one nipple to the next. She was already aroused, but there were levels. He could take her higher. With diligent dedication, he kissed her golden globes until her cries grew louder and more urgent, and he drew his kisses lower down her stomach. The dip of her bellybutton accepted the tip of his tongue.
     
    Sam didn’t stop there. His nose skidded over the bare skin to the sweet nectar between her quivering thighs, and he buried his tongue as deeply inside of her as he could go. The instant shock of pleasure made Afia scream his name.
     
    “Yes,” he murmured against her dripping wetness. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
     
    She blushed, uncertain if she had heard him correctly. “You know,” she moaned shyly. Her thighs slid against his face. Her fingers tangled in his hair. “You know what you do to me.”
     
    He grabbed her legs and held them open wide. “Tell me.” His breath tickled her. She squirmed, trying to lift her hips to put her body back at