Claimed By The Devil Read online Joanna Blake (Devil’s Riders #8)

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Devil's Riders Series by Joanna Blake
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
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Maybe she’d even love it. Not as much as I would. That would be impossible. But I’d make it good for her. I’d make sure she came. More times than she could count.

I’d make her come until her gorgeous legs turned to jelly.

“Iced tea is great,” I said instead.

Slow down, Nick. Go fucking slow.

We ate in companionable silence for a while. It was hard not to compliment her with every bite. I was trying to hold back because I didn't want to act like a fool. I definitely felt like one, though. I just wanted to get on with it. As good as the food was, I was ready for dessert.

Her.

I almost choked on my iced tea when she brought out a pie. She gave me a startled look.

“You don’t want pie?”

“Maybe later,” I said. “I’d rather kiss you.”

“Oh,” she said, turning bright pink. But she set the pie back into the basket, bless her heart. I took her hand and tugged her toward me. I was on my knees, puling her close before she had a chance to say anything more.

“If that’s all right,” I said, brushing her hair away from her cheeks. She nodded, and I smiled grimly, knowing I was in for pleasure and pain. I’d take what I could get, as much as I could get without spooking her. My eyes were on her lips as I molded her body against mine. We both sighed at the feeling of coming together, heat and pressure and pleasure all at once and with our clothes on. And then I was kissing her, using my lips and my tongue to seduce her and letting my hands wander over her back and hips. I rested them there, holding her in place so I could press my hardness against her.

She let out a feminine gasp as she felt my shaft press into her belly.

“Is that okay?” I asked gruffly. “I can move back.”

“No . . . it’s . . . it’s fine,” she said breathlessly. It was all the invitation I needed. I lowered her back onto the blankets and covered her with my body. The next kiss was deeper, wilder. I nudged her thighs apart and settled between them. I ground my teeth at how goddamn good she felt.

Holy fucking shit, just kissing this girl was going to kill me.

But I would die smiling, dammit.

I let my hands move up her sides. I wanted to touch her bare skin. I wanted to taste her. I wanted to see her.

“Can I pull this down?” I asked, staring into her wide blue eyes. She nodded jerkily. She was nervous. That was okay. I’d teach her to welcome my touch. She would learn to crave it.

I was doing my best not to grind my cock into her. I wanted to yank her skirt up and bury myself between her thighs, face first. And then . . .

Slow your fucking roll, Nick. She’s a nice girl, remember? Take your fucking time, you animal.

I tugged her denim dress down and groaned at the sight of her. Two luscious globes wrapped in a plain white bra, trimmed with the tiniest bit of lace. Nothing fancy. Just sweet and pretty, like her. Her creamy skin spilled over the top of the bra in an invitation that was impossible to resist. I rubbed my hands over her breasts, leaning back so I could get a better look. She gasped as I made her nipples hard through the fabric. Then I tugged the bra down, watching her eyes to make sure she wasn’t freaking out. She wasn’t. She was curious and excited.

But not nearly as excited as I was.

I cursed as her perfect breasts were revealed, each tipped with a hard pink nipple. I bent to kiss her there, and she sighed sweetly, her hands coming up to run through my hair.

Fuck, I liked it when she touched me. It felt better than it should. Even that simple touch felt off the charts good.

But nothing felt as good as having her nipples in my mouth. I sucked each one slowly, savoring the feel of my tongue as it danced over the puckered flesh. She was whimpering after a few minutes, her hips rocking ever so slightly against me.

Fuck. Me.

“I want to touch you. Here,” I said, slipping my hand just under the hem of her skirt. I lifted it slowly up past her knee, being as direct as I fucking could. If I could make her come, things might go faster. And I fucking needed to make her come. Maybe with my hands this time. Then next time, I’d taste her.

That was slow enough, right?

It had to be. Because if I tried to go any slower, I was pretty sure I would combust. I was definitely going to lose my fucking mind.


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