Beyond the Horizon Read online Anne Malcom (Sons of Templar MC #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
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Asher grasped my neck, his hand bit into my hip. “Sit back, baby,” he ordered, his voice rough.

I did as he bid, my whole body blazing with electricity, my panties already soaking. I sat up on the bike, leaning back so he could pull down my leggings and panties. I should’ve felt mortified, paralyzed at the fact that I was naked and exposed on the side of the road. I felt none of that. All I felt was need. Frantic, desperate need for Asher.

His eyes devoured me, looking at me, there. He ran his hand over his mouth. “Fuck,” he muttered. “So fuckin’ beautiful. All I want to do is taste that sweet pussy... I’ll do that, later,” he decided, stepping forward and unbuttoning his jeans.

He grasped my hips and I was up again, straddling him once more, this time sans pants. There was no warning, no build up, he slammed straight into me, right to the hilt. I was ready, primed. I cried out at the magnificent feeling of him inside me. The twinge of pain I felt from his wide length stretching me was nothing next to the pleasure.

He grasped my neck roughly. “Ride me, baby,” he commanded in a voice thick with desire.

So I did. With the morning rays kissing our bodies, I rode him. Rode him with abandon, this new Lily letting everything go but the two of us. Asher’s eyes never left mine, and his fingers bit into my ass, one hand clutching my neck so my face brushed his. Our feverish lovemaking was made all the more intense with our gazes locked on each other, his chocolate eyes searing my soul.

“Come, baby, let go,” he demanded hoarsely.

On his order, my entire body convulsed and I cried out through my release. The pleasure unleashed was like nothing I’d ever felt in three years. In my whole life. It was almost blinding. Asher’s arms tightened around me as I milked the release out of him. He captured my lips as he pulsed inside me.

We sat breathing heavily, our noses touching.

“Fuck, flower,” he murmured against my mouth. “Being inside you, it’s the best feeling on the planet. But you riding me on my bike,” his hands tightened and he shook his head, “launches me right into the stratosphere.” He nuzzled my neck.

My heart was beating furiously and I vaguely registered his words, my heart leaping at them. At the fact he was inside me once more, his hands were on me. I didn’t get much closer to any form of coherent thought. As he gently lifted me off him and set me on my feet, reality trickled back in at about the same rate as something leaked down my leg.

Hmm. Sex in the middle of nowhere without a condom, not so glamorous as you’d think, I thought with a certain degree of detachment. I was lucky I was on the pill as I realized our lack of protection.

Asher snatched what looked like a tee from one of the bags on his bike, gently cleaning me. His head moved so he could stare at me as he did so. My heart skipped a beat at the expression on his face, the tenderness of such an action. My lips stayed pursed. Nymphomaniac Lily was slowly disappearing, the regular, awkward shy and decidedly not nympho Lily was returning. Shame would be well on its way. For now, I bathed in the warm glow of the sunshine, of Asher’s touch, chipping away at my ice cold grief.

I pulled on my leggings awkwardly when he handed them to me. Once I had myself decent, Asher stepped in front of me, hands at my neck. He searched my face with worry.

“You okay, flower?” he asked softly after a moment of silence.

That was a good question.

“Right now, in this moment, yes,” I told him quietly. “On the whole ... not so much.” The honest statement came out of me automatically. I couldn’t hide with him. It was the first time I’d made any kind of admission I was struggling. That this was real.

He furrowed his brows. “You need to get home. To bed,” he decided. “My bed,” he clarified.

Bed.

Home.

“Fuck,” I exclaimed loudly, remembering who I had in my bed at my home.

Asher’s brow rose. “Did you just curse, flower?” he teased.

I didn’t have time to revel in how attractive his already smoking face was when amused.

“I need to go home. To my home, like now,” I demanded quickly.

“Okay, we’ll go there, if that’s what you want,” he agreed, beginning to turn us to his bike.

I clutched his hand. “Not we … just me,” I told him firmly.

He frowned slightly. “Not leavin’ you, babe, not again,” he declared roughly.

“Well, you’re not coming into my house. I’ve got ... um … company,” I mumbled.

I cringed at how that sounded. It sounded like I was some kind of hussy. Red crept up my cheeks.



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