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40. Addictions

Never once growing up did I envision a future of myself on the back of a Harley, riding through the wind, clutching onto a man with a lip ring, covered in tattoos.

Yet here I am, doing what feels right, with the man that I truly love. Not the kind of love that’s expected or planned, but the wild, uninhibited kind. The kind you deny and deny until it slaps you in the face and tells you your truth.

We’re just riding along on the highway, testing out his new purchase, forgetting our current problems. I clutch myself to him, after his strict instructions to hold onto him tightly, wrapping my arms around his waist and gripping his shirt in my hands to his enjoyment.

Watching his forearms flex under the ink of his tattoos, and the way his large strong hands extend as he grips the handlebar beneath his gloves has me tingling between my thighs. Even the way he started it up so effortlessly, okay it wasn’t that hard, but still, he’s insanely attractive to me.

It’s exhilarating, zipping through the wooded roads, feeling like we’re in our own little world. I’m riding on a high as he takes it up a notch, going over the speed limit to test it out. I squeal with delight against him, getting a jolt of adrenaline coursing through my veins as I feel the vibrations radiating throughout my core.

He’s a natural. He told me he used to ride a bit when he was in high school and that he always wanted his own one day. But the way he rides it, it looks like he was born to do it.

He drives up to an old gravel rest stop, slowing down before turning back into the wooded little area. There’s a small building for a bathroom and some picnic tables nearby. It’s a beautiful stop, one that many people probably never take the time to visit, because why would they? It’s off the main highway. It’s the kind of rest stop for truckers needing a night’s rest. He stops the bike, resting his feet on either side of it to stabilize us before shutting it off. I remove the helmet he helped me put on, readjusting his large leather jacket down my shoulders a bit, running a hand through my unruly hair.

“Did you like it?” he asks with raised brows, turning to face me.

I blow air through my lips, shaking my head with a smile. “I loved it.”

“Wanna drive?”

“Hell no!” I scoff while laughing, “I’m terrified.”

“Was the ride alright?” he asks, suddenly nervous he took it too fast.

I swing my leg over the bike, hoping off the back as he watches me, remaining straddled on it.

“It was. It helped me forget things for a moment, but then again, I always forget all my problems when I’m with you.”

He smiles shyly at me and I love what words like that can do to him. He needs to hear more of it.

“However” -I saunter over to him, closing the space between us- “I’ll be honest, I was hoping I could ride like this...”

He stands up straight, letting go of the handlebar, watching as I swing my leg back over, straddling the bike again, only this time facing him. I wiggle my hips against him, rubbing my crotch onto his lap as my exposed legs wrap around his thighs and hips, my arms encircling his taut core beneath the loose shirt.

His lips part as he watches my every move. I lift my chin to face him with a confident grin.

“Uh, yeah, I’d end up killing us both.” He swallows as I roll my hips against him. “And I’ll never let you wear a skirt again while riding, it’s fucking reckless. You could’ve been burnt or skinned up. If anything happened to these perfect legs...I don’t even wanna think about it, this was fucking stupid.”

His tone is angry, more at himself as his hands slowly run up the length of my exposed thighs, over the material until he finds the top of my hips where my waist curves in. His fingers slide up and under my t-shirt, gripping into the skin of my waist as he firmly pulls me into him, his hips thrusting up in the process.

Yes, we are currently dry humping on his motorcycle.

“It’d be worth it,” I bite the corner of my lip, grinning. “Come on, let’s fuck on your motorcycle. There’s no one around, it’d be so easy to just slide it in.”

He stares at me, like he’s seen a ghost. His mouth is hanging open as he raises his brows, blinking in blissful confusion before knitting them together.

“Who are you?” he asks cautiously, as if he’s never seen me before.

I giggle at his seriousness. “I’m Cole,” I announce proudly. “Yours.”

“Fuck, I’ve turned you into a bad girl.”

“Hmm, no. I think you just made me realize what I like,” I lick my lips, leaning forward and eyeing his.

“Yeah?” he asks with a breathy tone, his eyes growing darker by the second.

My chest begins rising and falling more quickly between us. “Yeah.”

He puts the kickstand out, leaning the bike into a stable position. With one hand he scoops my hair up behind me, holding it tightly in his grasp, as he pulls it roughly making me gasp, forcing me to face the sky.

“And what is it that you like, exactly?” he asks forcefully, his eyes inspecting my neck, my jaw, my lips, pulling my hair tightly while preparing his strike.

I swallow, feeling my pulse pounding through my neck, exposing all of what he does to me.

“Do you like it hard and fast?” he asks, licking up the side of my neck, making me moan. “Or soft and slow?”

The way he’s talking while taking his time and toying with me is sending me into a spiral. I feel my arousal between my legs, wet and ready for him just by his words alone.

“Hard and fast,” I say breathlessly, almost unsure of what that might mean with him.

He sucks on a spot on my neck, running his teeth along my skin before finding my ear lobe and biting down on it, making me squirm against him.

“Good, cause we don’t have time for slow and soft.”

“Cam,” I moan in anticipation, feeling my panties get wet.

He loosens his grip on my hair, pushing the back of my head down to face him again.

“Undo my pants,” he commands, looking into my eyes.

I do as he orders immediately, my fingers fidgeting with the button, feeling his stiff member beneath the fabric of the jeans he put on this morning. I open it, pulling the zipper down and apart and look back up at him for the next order.

“Good. Now lean back, pull your panties to the side.”

I lean back a little, holding myself up with one hand on the bike, while he holds me by the waist. Who wears a little loose mini skirt while riding a motorcycle? A girl who had plans to fuck her man on it, that’s who. I roll the soft material higher up my thighs, teeth pressing into my lower lip as I peel the white underwear to the side, showing him what he does to me.

“Fuck,” he whispers beneath his breath, eyeing my glistening center, slick from arousal. “You’re so bad.”

He gazes from my wetness to my eyes again. There’s a darkness in his stare, a darkness that excites a new part of me, a naughty side of myself I’d never tapped into before. He makes me feel alive and bursting with an electric energy, ready to take on the world and everyone in it. He empowers me without even knowing it.

“Up,” he gives me a light head nod, his tone demanding. “I want you to sit on my dick.”

I lean back up as he stabilizes himself on the seat.

“Take it out,” he demands, his voice low. "And spit on it."

I blink quickly, while taking a breath, reaching into his boxers and letting his erection spring free. I look back up at him quickly, then back at his massive cock, feeling flushed at the sight of the drop of pre-cum on his tip. I spit down onto him as he watches in delight.

"Now rub it all over."

I do as he says, before he picks me up at the waist as I wrap my legs around his torso, the heels of my boots digging into his back.

“Put it in,” he says again, our mouths inches apart. "Slide down it."

I reach behind me, pulling the underwear further to the side as I line myself with his head. He grips my shoulders, pulling me down onto his head, pushing the crown through, then roughly shoving the rest of his length deeply into me.

I cry out at the sudden burn of my walls stretching around him. I’m still not used to his size, and by the watering of my eyes, it shows.

“Oh, fuck yeah. I love you taking my whole cock,” he groans, wincing while eyeing my face, watching as I react to his force. “You like it?”

Closing my eyes tightly as my mouth forms an “O”, I nod, unable to speak, sitting still as I accommodate his width.

He takes a few breaths, tightening his jaw. “Now hang onto my shoulders.”

I do as he says, gripping his shirt between my fingers as my arms are wrapped around his neck, our chests pressed firmly against each other. With his hands up and under my skirt, he claws at my ass, pulling me into him as thrusts himself deeply into me.

“I want you to scream,” he says, as he begins lifting me up and down his thick length. “There’s no one out here to hear you. Scream for me, Cole.”

I can feel him harden even more inside of me as I begin crying out at his force. I’m bouncing up and down on him, using my arms as leverage around him. My slick arousal is making the pain subside and the pleasure of him penetrating my walls, relaxing me.

"Oh, God!" I cry out loudly.

After thrusting for a while, I feel him begin to get frustrating. In this position he can’t do what he needs to do. What his body is telling him. He can’t fuck me they way he needs.

“Lie back,” he demands, pushing my back down against the bike.

Looking down at where we’re connected he groans. “Look at you, creaming all over me.”

He rubs my clit with his thumb, spreading the juices all over it, causing me to pant. Bringing the thumb up to my mouth I suck on the digit, making him shudder, his dick rock hard inside me.

“Grab the handlebar behind you with both hands,” he demands.

I do as he says, reaching behind me to hang on for this ride.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much,” he warns before slowly wrapping both hands around my neck.

My breaths are choppy as I anxiously await what’s to come. He holds me in place by my neck, standing and readjusting himself. Slowly pulling almost all the way out of me, he looks down at my body, clenching his jaw before slamming up into me.

I scream out at the intensity in which he begins fucking me. He holds my throat, thrusting into me with hot, slick strokes, slapping against the part of my clit that’s not covered by my wet underwear, hard.

The pain of the bike against my back is replaced with the forceful, yet electric sensation of him hitting something deep within me. I feel little sparks fly through me every time he hits it, tiny orgasms again and again. I’m close to coming already or maybe I already have? I can’t tell anymore because this new sensation feels like one orgasm is bleeding into another. I can’t tell where one starts and another ends. Everything feels so good.

I’ve never been fucked before, not until Hawke. The thrill of having a man control me, and submitting to the endless pleasure he gives me at his will is better than anything I’ve ever experienced. His firm hold on my neck, a new arousing stimulant.

I scream, curling my legs around his back, needing him deep inside me as I tighten down on his cock, another orgasm racking through me.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, feeling what’s happening.

He stares into my watery eyes, as his thrusts get sloppy and slower, before a deep guttural grunt reverberates in his throat and he loses himself in me.

Catching our breaths, he releases his hold on me, bending forward, licking his lips before softly kissing mine, the change in sensation a welcomed one. His lips melt to me, proving his love.

“Cam, that was...” I stop to take a breath. “That was so good.”

He sighs, with a lazy grin, before his face straightens, asking, “Did I hurt you?”

“If you did, I don’t know about it yet,” I say breathlessly.

He chuckles at my statement, helping me up and off him and the bike. We readjust ourselves, walking towards one of the picnic tables to collect ourselves.

He casually jumps up onto it, turning around before taking a seat on the table, his feet on the bench, as he fishes for something in his back pocket.

He helps me up next to him, as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lighting one up and taking a quick few pulls, he blows it out of the side of his mouth, away from me.

I grin while watching as he puts the cigarette up to his lips again. I grab it in the middle, taking it away from him.

Loving the fact that he probably thinks I’m pulling a “quit smoking after school special,” I put the cigarette to my lips, cocking a brow at him with a flirtatious grin, and take a pull.

He stares at me for a moment, shaking his head, then quickly pulls it away from me, throwing it on the ground and stomping it out.

“I won’t let you start this shit. I’ve got you addicted to enough bad habits as it is.”

“Please tell me you aren't calling yourself a bad habit, Hawke,” I say, cocking my head, hating that it seems that way.

He shrugs, looking down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck.

I quickly straddle his lap, placing my thighs around him again, pulling his jaw to face me. “You, my love, are the only habit worth being addicted to.”

He sighs, his cute cheeks smushed in my hands, looking at me with admiration.

“How I found you, I’ll never understand. But the fact that I did, changed me.”

I capture his lips in a kiss, his hands moving up holding the back of my head so gently as our tongues tangle together in beautiful harmony.

But, our time is up again. It’s time for me to head back to the house to get my stuff to head into work. I have to go and face Patrick and deal with this situation the way it ultimately needs to be dealt with.

It’s time for us to go face the things we keep avoiding.

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