Shoving aside his body’s urgent demands, he smiled at her as he held the door open for their exit. “I have to admit, I halfway expected you not to be here.”
“I’m not stupid. Better the devil you know, as the saying goes.” Grace stepped out into the sultry evening air, the deepening dusk making her automatically search around warily for the sudden appearance of those awful creatures.
“Relax,” Jacob said as he rested his hand on her lower back and guided her to the curb where he had parked. “I’ve already made sure it was safe for you. Here, put this on.” Handing her a helmet, he grinned widely when her surprised gaze flew from the helmet to his Harley then up to him.
“We’re riding that home?” Grace eyed the huge, black and chrome bike with as much misgiving as she did Jacob. Good Lord, she marveled silently. She was a staid librarian whose most adventuresome joy ride to date had been a horse-drawn carriage ride down Canal Street. Even though the Harley was smaller than a horse, although not by much, she hadn’t been astride the horse.
“I take it you’ve never been on a motorcycle?” When she shook her head and made no move to don the helmet, Jacob chuckled, took the helmet and put it on her head himself. Buckling the straps under her chin, he stated, “Then you’re in for a treat. It’s a good thing you’re wearing slacks and have a jacket. Even though it’s decent out tonight, you might get cool when I open her up once we’re out of the city.”
Grace eyed his short sleeved, black tee shirt tucked into those decadent black leather pants that did nothing to disguise the obvious bulge between his legs. Unless he was padded, his cock was huge, and she didn’t know what she feared most, the ride or the close proximity to that lean, hard body. “Are you sure it’s safe?” she asked as he held her arm while she straddled the padded seat.
“Grace, I promise you, you’re safer with me than you are with anyone else right now,” he once again reassured her patiently. Taking a seat in front of her, he reached behind him and pulled her arms around his waist. “Scoot up until you’re hugging my back and simply follow my body’s movements and you’ll be fine.”
“Where’s your helmet?”
“Trust me, sweetheart, it’d take more than a spill on the pavement to kill me.” Jacob tried not to think about the feel of her round, full breasts cushioned against his back, the very discernible feel of her hard little nipples poking him or the way her crotch was nestled against his ass. He vividly remembered her bare pussy, the soft, plump folds that shielded her slick core, and wondered if her completely denuded state was her doing or Mason’s. Just the thought of Mason taking her, forcing her to do anything against her will, had rage threatening his composure. He didn’t mourn his brethren’s death as much as the others because he knew he could never forgive him for
the harm he had done to his mate.
There was no way to comfortably verbally communicate once they got going, so Jacob remained quiet as he drove slowly through the streets of downtown New Orleans, the business section not nearly as busy this time of day as the Quarter. By the time they were leaving the city, he had delegated Mason’s memory to hell and was once again trying to reign in his lust, his almost overpowering need to simply pull over and take her right there on the side of the road. The way she was squirming against his back, her arms tightening convulsively around his waist meant she was having just as much trouble as he was ignoring her body’s demands for its mate, something he understood far better than she did.
The need to feel her touch, for skin to skin contact became too much to resist. Hitting the open road where traffic was light, he sped up just enough to have the breeze whipping against his face, the powerful engine a vibrating purr under them. Taking a chance, he opened his mind and sought out her reaction. You doing okay, Grace?
Grace nearly slid off the bike at the sound of Jacob’s deep southern drawl echoing in her head. Abby had told her she communicated telepathically with Damien and that it was arousing to speak that way, but if her body’s reaction was any indication, that was a gross understatement. As if the vibration from the powerful engine between her legs and the feel of Jacob’s wide, muscled back a perfect anchor wasn’t enough to have her creaming her panties, the intimacy of hearing his voice in her mind ratcheted her arousal even higher. Not knowing how to reply, she nodded against his back.
Open your mind and speak. Trust me, I’ll hear you. Jacob waited breathlessly for her to try and when he heard her tentative reply, his cock jerked in response, the few drops of pre-come dampening his pants giving him enough pleasure he had to clutch his hands tighter around the handle bars in order to keep from reaching down and rubbing himself hard enough to finish the job.
Can you hear me?
Yes, and I love hearing your voice in my head. Jacob quickly decided to take a risk and push her comfort level. Pulling his shirt from his pants, he grabbed her right hand and pushed it underneath, pressing her palm against his abdomen. The feel of her soft hand on his waist had him shuddering in suppressed need as that light touch sent his arousal soaring. Touch me, Grace. Nothing else, just let me feel you, please.
While one part of her mind shied away from any physical contact with this man, a much stronger part had her involuntarily exploring the rigid hardness of his stomach, his skin warm against her cool fingers. I don’t want to distract you from driving this thing, she told him, the part of her that was insisting she remain cautious temporarily overriding her body’s demand that she continue exploring his flesh.
Trust me; I won’t let anything happen to us.
He said that a lot, Grace mused, probably in the hopes she would do just that eventually. And given the way her hands were moving over his skin, seemingly of their own accord, she thought his hopes might not be in vain. Forcing herself to relax against him, she let herself enjoy the feel of his hard, ridged muscles bunching under her hand, let herself forget, for one brief, blissful moment, the horrors of the past and allowed herself to simply bask in this new, unconventional experience.
Grace found herself rubbing her breasts against his back in an effort to relieve the painful ache in her nipples. Getting no relief, she moved her hand upward, determined to make him suffer as he was making her suffer. After all, she rationalized; this ride was all his idea. When her fingers encountered small metal hoops on his nipples, she jolted in surprise, especially when she could feel a groan vibrate in his chest from her innocent touch. Emboldened by curiosity and her own escalating arousal, she tugged on one hoop then lightly caressed his beaded nipple before doing the same to the other one.
You’re playing with fire, Grace, Jacob warned her as he felt the pleasure from those tugs and caresses zing down to his cock with a jolt of white hot heat. Thank God there was less traffic on this stretch of road as they neared Damien’s estate with escalating speed.
You started it, she taunted, unwilling to stop now. The speed of the motorcycle seemed to make her reckless as they sped down the road in a blur of speed, wind whipping around them as the hard body bracing her shielded her against the onslaught of humid, warm air. The powerful engine’s vibrations increased and Grace found herself rubbing her crotch against his buttocks, seeking a release she had no experience with. Her pussy seemed to swell, her juices soaking her panties as her clit throbbed painfully and small tremors left her anticipating more. Just as he pulled through the massive rod iron gates of Damien’s plantation, her body convulsed in pleasure, her pussy contracting and gushing, her fingers tightening on his nipple as she rubbed her own aching nubs even harder against his back. The endless rush of pleasure took her over, temporarily obliterating common sense and her fears as, for the first time, she experienced the ecstasy she had heard so much about.
By the time Jacob shut the Harley down and was sliding off, Grace was slowly regaining her senses. The abrupt loss of his flesh under her hands and the warm, bracing comfort of his back was as effective as a bucket of ice water. Taking off the helmet, she looked up at his hard face, the dark look of hunger in his eyes scaring her more than her uncharacteristic actions. With a cry of dismay, she ran into the manor, past the startled looks of Abby and Damien, and didn’t stop until she was ensconced in the bedroom, her body leaning against the closed door as if that would keep him out, her breath still coming in gasps from her exertions.
Jacob remained where he was; let her run away without pursuit because he didn’t trust himself to hold back if he went after her. Past the point of no return, he released his cock into his hand right there in the drive, leaned back against his bike and jerked himself off. His fist was a poor substitute for his mate’s pussy, but desperation gave him no choice. Fisting his shaft with fast, hard strokes, he wasted no time pumping his climax to release. With a barely stifled groan, his cock erupted with an arc of semen, his balls so tight they hurt, the pleasure not nearly enough to satisfy his demanding lust. Instead of going inside and facing whoever was in residence and spending the long night ahead fighting the urge to go to Grace, he tucked his still hard cock uncomfortably back in his pants, got back on his bike and took off for a long, mindless ride to absolutely nowhere. Much like his relationship with Grace was going.
“You two are as tense as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs,” Jon drawled as he eyed Damien and Jacob with derision. “Take your mates in hand and be done with it already.”
“You don’t take an abused woman ‘in hand’,” Jacob snarled, taking his weariness out on his friend. It had been a long week and he wasn’t in the mood for unsolicited comments on his relationship, or lack of with Grace.
“That’s enough you two.” The four of them were seated in the parlor where they gathered before turning in for the day to discuss the night’s activities. Damien couldn’t blame Jon for growing irritable with both him and Jacob. This past week the situation between him and Abby and Jacob and Grace hadn’t improved. Abby refused to have sex with him again until he was willing to fuck her in private. She didn’t have an aversion to the presence of others; on the contrary, she got off on the exhibitionism. But she took his refusal to fully claim her as his mate by taking her blood as well as fuck her in private as a personal affront and denial of their feelings. And Abby had a stubborn streak a mile wide which meant she wasn’t going to cave until he did. Of course, she wasn’t above trying every wile she could come up with to get him to change his mind.
And damn if the little minx’s antics weren’t driving him bat shit crazy. She had taken to parading around the house in short skirts and flimsy tops, bending over on some pretext as soon as he entered the room, giving him, and anyone else who happened to be present, a teasing glimpse of her bare ass and pink slit. The first time she pulled that stunt, he had swatted the ass she was displaying, but all that did was make her pussy glisten damply and elicit a shriek of laughter from
her, her sudden jerk making her braless breasts bounce enticingly, her taut nipples easily discernible through the sheer top.
One evening he found her in the pool, frolicking buck naked with Tasha and Micah. He had tormented himself by watching her play, the soft white globes of her breasts and ass clearly visible from the underwater lighting. His cock had been hard enough to pound nails, his fangs aching to sink into her breast, the need to sate his hunger with her blood nearly strong enough to overpower his hardened resolve to keep her safe at all costs. The last three evenings he had enlisted Jon or Luc to pick her up from work and had made sure he was gone from the plantation when they brought her home, much to both hers and his frustration.