Her body pinched him as if to keep him trapped inside of her forever. It was a tight fit but not to the point that it was uncomfortable. His body acted like a pillar of support.
With casual ease, Dante began to pump into her. He was slow at first as if to test her level of discomfort. Trisha’s cries of passion compelled him to thrust deeper into her.
She was shivering with ecstasy from his pumping motions. He calmed her with a soft kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth before darting in and out. It seemed to mirror his thrusting from below.
With free hand, he pinched her erect nipple. The weather-beaten hand chaffed pleasurably against the sensitive flesh. Trisha almost felt guilty for letting her lover do all the work. Nonetheless, she enjoyed his skillful, patient lovemaking. She was utterly enthralled by him.
Gathering whatever freewill she had, Trisha kissed Dante. Each thrust from her lover forced her to moan. The sound passed as a vibration from her mouth onto Dante’s lips.
With each stroke, her hips moved of their own volition. She had exposed the naked intensity of the passion in her heart. Trisha thought she would be afraid in placing her trust and desire in the hands of her lover.
Yet, the farm girl felt so much at ease in the biker’s arms. Months of worrying about her business and making rent had vanished. Dante had an uncanny ability to please her and remove her from the worries of mundane life.
It was the intoxicating first taste of a normal life. It was the feel of going to bed with a man rather than a binder full of business forms. It was the ability to see a man for who he was rather than how much they could help or hurt her farm.
In turn, she had seen a different side to Dante. He was equal parts passionate and patient. He was as focused on pleasing her as he was interested in quelling the sense of yearning in his heart. He entered with as much grace and power as he did when ridding.
His hands roamed the peaks and valleys of her body. He thumbed over her clit before moving up to grope her breasts. His breath was hot and misty like a car’s exhaust in the middle of winter.
The two locked eyes like a matador before a bull. Trisha felt a strange sense of power over her lover. He had lowered his guard and shed nearly every layer of his emotional armor. He groaned as if a mental prisoner to her. “God… you’re so beautiful, Trisha.”
Trisha began to quiver in feverish delight. Her impending orgasm blurred her vision and muzzled her voice. Dante steadied her body with an arm as he thrust into her from below.
Her lover was just as primed for his climax. His erection pulsed inside of her before his inevitable release. Their hearts and bodies shook violently as one. Only Dante’s strong arms kept her from toppling over. Together, they rode their mutual orgasm from crest to trough and back again.
With a lingering kiss, Trisha collapsed into Dante’s embrace. He wiped some moisture from her face before caressing her hair. She wasn’t sure whether it was sweat or tears but she knew she had thoroughly enjoyed the encounter. Her lover brushed his lips against her ear. “Trisha…”
She felt him leave her and get up from the couch. “Yes, Dante?”
He looked away off into the distance. “I’ll… sleep in my bed. You can take the guest room. It’s already made for you.”
She came crashing down like a meteorite. As real as their romance could feel from moment to moment, it was a charade.
It was a farce.
It was an illusion.
Every heartfelt kiss and soft caress was a lie. She was nothing more than a walking billboard for his company. He only wanted to her to help his motorcycle club seem like a legitimate business.
For a moment, Trisha thought about hailing a cab and heading home. However, her exhaustion had won over her pride. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Dante looked pained before speaking. “Let, me help you pop open-“
She waved off his offer before gathering her nightgown. If this was a business arrangement to him, then she would act like a business partner. “No, I’ll be fine. Goodnight.”
“I’ll have the FBI look into that Red Aztec patch,” he continued, getting dressed. However, she was barely listening to him. “We’ve had our disagreements but that hasn’t stopped us from making some friends within the FBI. However, I’m sure it’s nothing.”
She heard him walk to his room and shut the door. “I’m sure it’s nothing…”
The woman wished she didn’t sound to spiteful. There was no one else to blame but herself. Trisha knew she had signed a contract to act as his fake girlfriend. He had tracked her down like the hounds he was.
Yet, their short time together had felt magical. For the briefest of moments, she had felt utterly cherished in Dante Alastair’s arms. Yet, it was just under bullet point in their contract.
She had expected too much from life.
Thank you for reading!
Fiona Garland is a former accountant who has turned her pen from legal documents to romance novels. She enjoys thinking of new ideas for her red hot romance stories.
She loves to hear from her fans. Contact her at: [email protected]
TRACKING TRISHA - A Black Hounds Motorcycle Club Romance (The Fox and the Hounds Book #1) Page 10
