Forever Zara: (novella 9.5) by V. Theia (knowledgeable books to read txt) 📗

to the savage need she had, elevating his own as he built them up higher.

He’d wanted many things in his life, he lived by excess, but this here, this woman, she was the pinnacle of everything. He could live without water and air but ask him to go a day without Zara, and he’d fucking die.

And when they did finally come together, her walls shaking like maracas around his cock as she cried into his neck and her thighs spread wide; his lips found hers again. There was no way he could get closer when she told him, “I love you, Ambrosio. You make our life so perfect.”

She did too, for him.

He was a better man for her, even with his murky past.

Rider did the things he did, to give her the joy she deserved.

And nothing was ever gonna change that.

It was when he put her back into her clothes, she hopped down off the counter and curled into his side as he zipped up. He grinned, a different memory in his mind as he palmed her ass, put his mouth to her neck. “Remember the first time I fucked you in the club kitchen? You went nuts with the cleaner wipes.”

She burst out laughing.

They have had a lot of growth between them since then.

Now she was soft and loose and couldn’t give a damn if anyone knew what they’d done in this room. She might not recognize it, but his Zara was a formidable woman. Inside and out of the club.

“It feels like such a long time ago.”

It was. And it wasn’t.

“And now you’re my husband.” She told him, “with or without that paper. You’ve always been my biker-man husband.”

Swatting her ass in case she got any funny ideas, he didn’t work this long and hard to have her back out now. “Still getting the ring on your finger and you signing on the dotted line, woman.”

She laughed again. Soft and happy. He curved his arm around her shoulder, opening the door. “Yes, dear. Whatever you say.”

Sassy woman.

He’d fuck her again as soon as he got the feeling back in his legs.

THIRTEEN

“With this thumb, I thee suck.” – Rider

 

Wedding: T-minus 7 days.

Zara woke that morning sucking on two of Rider’s fingers.

It wasn’t as weird as some might think.

Coming awake on a moan when Rider tickled her tongue with a finger. Her eyes pinged open to find his hotter than hot amused gaze on her, resting on an elbow at her side.

Zara was no stranger to finger sucking. She liked to tease him until he lost his control and mauled her. “What’s going on?” She asked him, with her mouth full.

Though, it sounded more like “ut gun on.”

Rider chuckled and removed his two fingers, letting them linger over her wet mouth, tracing the shape of her lips. “I was gonna wake you with a kiss, I leaned over and touched your lips, and you turned into a Venus flytrap and sucked them in.”

“Oh, my god, Rider.” She laughed, rolling into him, burying her face in his neck. “I had a sexy dream. But it wasn’t your fingers in my mouth.”

A grunt pumped out of him. Gotcha, biker-man, she thought. When he rolled over and fit his hips into the breach her opened legs made, she curled her feet around the bottom of his legs, stroking a pathway along the sides of his ribcage.

“Tell me about this filthy dream you were having.”

His demand made her grin.

“You have a dirty mind, Ambrosio. I was dreaming I was eating an ice pop.” She lied, pressing her tongue into her cheek.

His eyes darkened, head lowered, putting curtains of his brown hair in her face.

“You were sucking hard on my fingers, Icy, and moaning your dirty-girl sex whimpers. I’ve seen you eat an ice pop, and you don’t make those sounds.” Running his nose along the side of hers, he grunted again, giving her a little hip drive. This time she moaned from low in her throat. “You were dreaming about sucking my cock, weren’t you? Tell your man.”

He was seducing her with voice alone, and Zara could have quaked at the knees if she were not already prone under him.

It was as she went in for a kiss, lips barely meeting, when the shriek of their second son broke the fire burning up between them.

Rider groaned.

Zara whimpered.

But then, a miracle happened, and they heard someone climbing the staircase. A small knock on their bedroom door, “I will see to the kids, Zara sweetie, have a little extra time in bed,” her mom called out.

She’d forgotten she’d given a key to her mom to let herself in this morning.

Giggling into Rider’s chest, she listened to the kids being shuffled down to the kitchen.

“We should get up,” she said with no conviction to follow through because she liked it right here with him.

“I have a better idea. And it’s endorsed by your mom,” A slick Rider smirked, mouth aiming for hers. He kissed her non-existent socks off until she was breathless.

He was hard.

She was horny.

Usually, when they made love like they did last night, Rider cleaned her up and then handed over PJs for her to sleep in. Zara was a PJ girl. More often than not, Rider slept in the nude, but they were both naked under the sheets after knocking her into a coma last night. When he slid out of bed, she clung to the sheet and watched him leaning hands on the bed to dip down to her mouth. All too willing to open for him, but it was over in seconds. “You were loud when I took you last night.” The man didn’t lie. The prospect of getting married had turned her Rider into a