Tear Me Away (Desert Wraiths MC Romance) by Amy Kiss

through my dress. It was so sheer, so flimsy. Even through that and through my bra, I could feel his fingers clutching at my flesh. They found my nipples and tweaked them like little handlebars.
    I gasped and moaned into his mouth. I was coming apart for him. He was tearing me open. His lips smiled on mine, and I knew this was what he wanted to see my body do all along. Ever since he had laid eyes on me.
    It was what I had wanted him to do to me.
    He tugged my shoulder straps and bra straps down my arms. I wriggled to help, but he held me down, and ripped harder. My zipper tore down my back, never to go up again. I didn’t want it back on. I wanted to be open and bare to him forever.
    His hands found my breasts again and now there was not even fabric to stop his fingers from sinking down and finding my mounds of flesh. He sighed as he mashed me together. 
    My chest was on fire under the friction of his touch and it was spreading to the whole of my body. I needed my clothes off. I needed his clothes off.
    He pulled off to look again at what I had to offer. I could finally see his eyes, half closed again with lust as he studied how ample I was. 
    Was that all? Was that why he had saved me? No, but I hoped that was part of it. I’d been waiting so long to give my body away. I wanted it to be his.
    Almost reverently, he sank his mouth over half my chest. I gasped out at the barren ceiling as his warmth and wetness encircled me. His tongue rippled across me and I tried to grab his hair. I found only bristle and scratched through it instead. His hand molested my other breast, as if his vast and powerful body was splitting apart to appreciate me in different ways.
    His other hand crawled up my thighs. Under the blanket of pleasure smothering my chest, I felt a growing tingle of excitement as those fingers brushed closer and closer. They curved under my panties and then he was there. His fingers squished into my folds and now I fell into a full surrender.  
    His hand teased me open. I felt his rough touch through a layer of wetness, I hadn’t felt forming.
    His fingers plunged into me. Everything else stopped mattering. The thick rods of muscle moved up me and a vast pleasure ran through my brain. Higher than anything I had felt before. 
    I didn’t know this need had been there, but now it was the only part of me that mattered and it was being sated. But not completely. The further he thrust, the more I wanted. He was looking at me now, watching me writhe under his touch. I couldn't make words.
    I grabbed his waist to try to pull him closer. To tell him that my body needed more of his to complete it. Instead I just caught the edges of his t-shirt. He let me pull that off. His muscles lay bare to me like some biological machine. His fingers curled into me again and I could see the motion as it rippled down from his massive shoulder.
    I settled into the stroke and gazed at his chest. It lay crisscrossed with scars. Faint marks across his shoulder. A long one on his right side that matched the faint line on his face. There were the ink ones he had added himself. Insignias, tribal markings, dark writhing patterns that looked like bodies in motion.
    He let me appreciate them, and then curled his wrist and plunged deep into me. My eyes shut at the new high water mark. I heard pleasure cross his face.
    He tugged down my panties and then shuffled down his own pants with a zip. I felt his hard tool smack out against my thighs. It laid out long and rippled with fine little bits I hadn’t noticed before. It moved up me like a snake and I gasped in anticipation at how it would feel.
    It wasn't close to the real thing. His head spread me open, wider than his fingers could. My whole body sang at the pleasure of him, and then he rode into me. We groaned together. He ran out, and sank up into me again.
    No tightness. No pain. Only the slightest pinch of pressure as he made me a woman.
    He rolled into me - a vast and unstoppable force, and