WE ARE DELIGHTED TO WELCOME TODAY'S GUEST AUTHOR, LILY HARLEM, WHO IS SHARING AN EXCERPT FROM HER NOVEL, 'ROUGH RIDE' ***WARNING*** ADULT CONTENT AND PROFANITY #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat
- 9 hours ago
- 5 min read
EXCERPT/CHAPTER
The huge leather-clad biker looming over me has just guessed my biggest secret. There’s no denying it. A past I’ve kept hidden for so long. I’ve never shared the details about that night when Billy had been given a bottle of rum as a gift and drank the whole damn lot.
Perfect opportunity.
Perfect crime.
Perfect murder.
Except I didn’t consider myself a murderer. I was a survivor. Billy had been bad news from the moment he’d walked into my clinic in his suave suit and wearing his flash watch. It had just taken an engagement and a wedding to find that out. Fancy holidays and a nice apartment didn’t make up for the fact his temper was lightning fast and vicious, and he was free and easy with his fists.
“I wasn’t there when he died,” I manage and look warily into the blue eyes studying mine. “I was at work.”
He cups my face in his warm hands. His palms are a little rough. “It’s always a good call to have an alibi.” His stare is merciless and penetrates my deepest, darkest memories.
“Is that what you do?” My voice is breathy. What is he doing? Why is he encroaching on my personal space? Touching me? Why is there naked lust in his eyes? Does it reflect mine?
My heart rate picks up and a tremble goes up my spine. His legs touch my inner thighs and it’s as if he owns my space. Crowding me. Leaving me nowhere to go but closer to him.
“I really fucking admire what you did,” he says in a low rumble.
I don’t reply, that would be admitting I’d killed my bastard ex-husband.
“And it’s a real fucking turn-on, too. Strength. Determination. Resilience.”
I swallow. My mouth is dry. Is that what he really thinks?
“A real fucking turn-on.”
Damn, the man is sexy and bad and I wonder just how good he would play my poor sex-denied body if I let him at it.
His lips touch mine but he doesn’t kiss me. I catch my breath.
“I really want to fuck you, Scarlet. Like, my dick is so damn hard right now, it’s goddamn painful.”
I whimper as his words rattle around my brain. Fuck. Now. Him.
“Say yes.” Still his lips move against mine but he doesn’t kiss me.
My pussy clenches and my belly tightens. Adrenaline is still surging but instead of fight-or-flight, my body chooses fuck.
I fist his cut, screwing the soft worn leather into my hands. “Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
Instantly his mouth claims mine and he clasps me to him. Our tongues tangle, teeth clash. The kiss is deep and urgent and neat lust pours into my veins.
And then he’s dragging at my top, whipping it over my head and tossing it aside. He is a predator who has caught his prey and is relishing in my surrender.
My breasts are heavy with longing and I press up against him.
He moans, a low growl, and releases my bra. It falls away.
“Fuck I’m horny for you.” He cups my right breast and squeezes. He looks into my eyes, fire raging in their bases, and he flicks my nipple.
I gasp. “It’s been a while,” I manage and thread my fingers into his thick messy hair. “Since I…”
“Haven’t had the urge to myself lately. Club ass not doing it for me.”
“You haven’t?” I push at his cut and he shrugs out of it. It lands on the floor. “What’s club ass?”
“Not you.” He huffs. “So, let’s make this count.”
He’s hard, his cock straining at his leathers. A long wedge of flesh I’m suddenly keen to get acquainted with.
His drags at his black t-shirt, his chest is a map of scars and dents and each hold a story. His wound dressing is still in place. He pulls me close again.
The warm sensation of flesh on flesh and the feel of my nipples on his wiry chest hair has my excitement ramping up a level. He’s hard and rough and strong and everything I need right now.
“Jesus, help me if I don’t get inside you in the next few seconds,” he mutters and pulls at my pants. They’re loose scrubs and slip off easily. My underwear goes with them and it all lands in a tangle beside the refrigerator.
He’s back between my legs, releasing his cock and filling my space. Heavens above. He’s big and wide and so damn hard. He fists himself with one hand, the other he sets on my pussy spread open for him.
I gulp.
“You wet for me, Doc?”
He slips one finger into my pussy.
I clasp his shoulders and clench around him. “Give it to me.” My pulse roars in my ears. I’m going crazy with longing.
His left eyebrow twitches. “Please.”
“Please.”
He chuckles and adds another finger, pushes high and wriggles against my internal walls. I buck onto him, my ass slipping on the counter. Nothing else exists. I just want him inside me. More. More. More.
“Greedy little thing,” he says and withdraws.
His cock is at my wet entrance. I can smell my own arousal. I hope he isn’t a hitter during sex the way my ex was, and I suddenly tense and a frown drags at my brow.
“What?” He cups my chin. “What is it?”
“I…” I bite my bottom lip. Not wanting my past to encroach on this moment but unable to stop it.
“I won’t hurt you. Only respect.” His lips brush mine. “I promise.”
I nod and lock my legs around his, draw him nearer. His words mean a lot to me. “I believe you.”
His big palm is in the small of my back, and as he sinks into me he pulls me onto him.
I catch my breath and close my eyes. He’s stretching me in such a delicious way, I savor every inch and it seems so does he. On and on he goes, the weight of his cock is dense and hot.
“Ah, yeah,” he says breathlessly into my ear, his other hand cupping my crown in a possessive hold. “You feel like fucking paradise.”
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AUTHOR BIO
Based in the UK, Lily Harlem writes colourful characters travelling on everyone’s favourite journey — falling in love. If the story isn’t deliciously romantic and smokin' hot, it won’t be written, at least not by Lily.
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COMING SOON: On Monday, 30th March, our team member, author Eva Bielby, will be sharing an insight into her character, Harry Allen, who makes his appearance in books 2 and 3 of 'The Hurt' trilogy.
