Ryder (Savage Wolves MC) #3

Chapter Twenty

•Talia•

I've never met a man more understanding than Ryder. Not once in all my years. Men have always been pigs, looking for a good lay they can brag about to their friends - well, the men that cycle through my life at least. Good ones are out there, I just never thought I'd find one - in a biker club of all places. Originally, I thought all MC guys were womanizing assholes with a penchant for drugs and violence. Ryder has proven there's a completely different side to that life. As has Blade, and I'm sure many of the other members. There's a handful that stray from being good people, (ahem, Jett), but I haven't seen much of the misogynistic assholery that's primarily portrayed in movies and television.

All I've seen is how kind and caring they can be. How one of these hardened bikers can love so tenderly, care so deeply, touch so gently.

And it's about time I returned the favor, my hands itching to touch him, kiss him, give him the pleasure he deserves for being patient.

I'll never get tired of looking at the tattoos spread over his chest, covering every inch of flesh. There's hardly any room left, but yet I've heard him talk about getting more. Where he'd put them, I have no clue.

Wiggling out of his side, I throw my right leg back over his and straddle his thighs, placing my hands along that tattooed skin, rubbing my thumbs against his nipples until his lips part on a breathy moan.

"Anyone ever tell you you're really pretty?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Maybe my grandma, once when I was a kid. I'm not really known for being pretty."

Leaning forward to press my lips against his, softly, I whisper, "I think you're pretty," another kiss, this time on his cheek, "Handsome," another kiss on his jaw, "Hot," another kiss on his neck, "Sexy." I suck on the skin there and his hands find their way to my hips, his fingers digging into the skin at my sides over my jeans.

Moving lower, his breath hitches with every inch of my lips down his chest until my tongue flicks out to lick around his belly button, my fingers drawing circles on his hips.

"You're pure torture, woman."

Smirking, I look up. "It'll be worth it... trust me." I've had enough practice over the past ten years.

"Gonna blow my mind with your mouth?" He chuckles.

"Gonna blow something, that's for damn sure." I wink, returning to licking along his skin, sneaking my hands in between us to unbutton his jeans, attempting to pull them down with him still laying flat.

He notices my struggle and immediately shuffles out of his pants in a rush, eager to be free for me to be closer.

"We've got all night, no need to rush," I smile seductively, trailing a finger along his lower abdomen until his skin ripples and his stomach sucks in from my touch.