Page 13 of Biker Bride (Hell on Heelz MC)

Then it all came back to me. This wasn’t just another casual morning, after casual sex. I was pretending to be in love with a man I barely knew, for reasons I was still trying to wrap my head around. Vince hadn’t made any moves, had tried nothing. It was a slap in the face. Maybe he found me disgusting. Maybe he regretted this whole charade.

The thought propelled me out of bed. Wiping my hands, I needed to clear my head. I grabbed my biker clothes—the only ones I had—and headed to the bathroom to shower and dress. The hot water did little to wash away my frustration. I scrubbedmy skin until it was red, as if that could erase the confusion and insecurity.

When I emerged from the bathroom, dressed in my leather jacket and jeans, Vince was awake, propped up on one elbow and watching me with a bemused expression. His hair all a mess, he was adorably sexy.

"You can’t wear that out of this room," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

I bristled at his tone. "Why not? It’s all I’ve got."

He sat up fully, his eyes locking onto mine with a force. "Take it off."

His command sent a thrill through me, despite the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. He was so damn sure of himself, so commanding. I wanted to defy him, to challenge his authority. But the way he looked at me, the way his voice wrapped around me like a vice, it was impossible to resist.

Instead of going to the bathroom, I stood at the foot of the bed and slowly unzipped my jacket. His eyes darkened as the leather slid down my arms and fell to the floor. I kicked off my boots and peeled off my jeans, leaving me standing in just my bra and panties.

Vince’s gaze roamed over my body, his expression deadly. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly powerful. I was taking control of this situation, showing him I wasn’t afraid of him or this ridiculous arrangement.

“Better?” I challenged, my voice soft but rebellious.

He shot to his feet, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. His hand reached out, brushing a strand ofhair from my face. "Much better," he murmured, his voice softer now, but still laced with that commanding edge.

Vince’s eyes never left mine as he took another step closer, his warm breath reaching my skin. "Take the rest of it off," he ordered, all raspy.

Shivering, I wanted to challenge him, to push back, but there was something about the way he commanded me that made me want to obey. Slowly, I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor. His gaze grew darker as I slid my panties down, stepping out of them and standing naked before him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just let his ice blue eyes roam over my body. I felt exposed, raw, and incredibly turned on. Finally, he spoke, his voice a husky whisper. “Get on the bed, on your hands and knees.”

My pulse quickened, but I did as he said, climbing onto the bed and positioning myself as he had commanded. The anticipation was electric, every nerve ending in my body on high alert. I felt his hands on my hips, his grip firm and possessive.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “Now stay still.”

I clenched my fists in the sheets, biting my lip to keep from moaning as his hands roamed over my body, teasing and tormenting me. His touch was so soft, yet firm as he caressed my breasts. Even his fingers knew how to get what they wanted as he ran them down my navel into my slick folds. He was taking his time, driving me wild with need.

Not only that, but the man was also inspecting every inch of me. I could tell from the way he’d linger on any imperfection, like a rough patch of skin. The way he’d paused to circle a mole.I had never felt so exposed, so dirty, and yet so desperately aroused.

“Spread your legs wider,” he instructed, his tone rough with desire. I obeyed, feeling a rush of heat between my thighs as he studied my pussy. Suddenly, he shifted his body to my rear, his hands clutching my waist as he positioned himself. “Do you want this?”

"Yes," I burst out, my body shaking with anticipation.

“Beg for it,” he ordered, his hold tightening on my skin.

“Please, Vince,” I moaned, unable to hold back any longer. “Please fuck me.”

Instead of giving me what I begged for, he strained back, and I felt a cold, sharp sensation against my skin. A familiar sensation. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what it was. My knife. He must have found it.

“Interesting thing I discovered,” he grumbled, running the blade lightly down my vertebrae. “I hear you like knife play. Or perhaps you planned to kill me?”

My breath caught in my throat. Part of me wanted to scream, but another part was extremely turned on by the danger. “Vince,” I whimpered, my sexual want winning.

“Does this scare you?” he asked, the knife tracing the curve of my hip.

"Kinda," I admitted, the idea of him being in control of the knife was both scary and exciting.

“Atta girl,” he growled, his tone a dark promise. “Fear can be a powerful aphrodisiac.”

He continued to run the blade over my skin, not cutting but just enough to make me hyper-aware of every movement. Holding completely still, I felt a rush of adrenaline, my body responding to the dangerous game we were playing. The thrill of it all had me hooked.

"Turn over," he directed, his firm voice allowing no space for debate.

---