Page 46 of Taken By the Biker Daddies

“Why?” I asked him. “Because of Max? I already told you he won’t mind.”

“Because I don’t want to make the same mistake I made before,” Wade answered. “I don’t want you to get hurt just like my ex-wife.”

I shook my head. “You’re not going to hurt me, Wade. I can handle it. I want to.”

I reached between Wade’s legs to press my palm against the bulge in his pants. This time, he let out a low growl.

I pressed my thumb against the tip of the tent in his crotch as I looked into his eyes. “Don’t you want me too?”

For a second, it looked like he was going to say no, the tension in his facial muscles evident. Then to my elation, he grabbed my ass and lifted his lips to grind against me. I gasped.

“Fuck it,” he muttered before pushing me off and to the side so that he could be back on top of me.

I could’ve sworn I’d never heard anyone sound so hot cursing as Wade.

When he finally kissed me, I felt my body catch fire, heat spreading through my veins. His tongue made my mouth melt. And my vagina was making a puddle that was staining my underwear.

His hands were all over me, caressing my shoulders, lifting my top so he could play with my stiff nipples, squeezing my ass, stroking my thighs. It was as if I had finally freed the beast inside him, and now he was devouring me with his hands, consumed by his hunger that only whetted my own appetite.

When he began stroking me between my legs, I moaned, and when he slipped a finger inside my drenched pussy after pulling off my pants and my underwear, I clutched his shoulders and let out a cry.

His frenzy was contagious, making me practically tear his shirt off so I could finally run my hands over the sculpted masterpiece that was his chest. As he started stroking me, I dug my nails into his back. The friction from his fingers was just driving me mad, making me lose my senses. But it wasn’t enough.

I lifted my head so I could whisper in Wade’s ear. “Fuck me.”

Wade groaned but straightened up to unzip his pants just the same. When I saw his hard, thick cock, its tip leaking and its veins standing out, I felt my breath leave me.

Now, that was a real work of art. And it was even more fascinating up close.

I couldn’t stop staring at it as Wade took a condom out of his pocket, though when he was about to put it on, I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“I want to feel you inside me,” I told him. “All of you.”

Then I wrapped my fingers around his cock. It throbbed in my hand as he hissed.

“Fuck it, Lauren. You’re driving me insane.”

“I’m glad,” I told him, lifting my other hand to stroke his cheek. “Now, show me just how much you like it.”

He kissed me again, pushing me back on the ground. Then he lifted my hips and thrust inside me. I nearly screamed. He felt even larger than I thought, stretching me, but that also meant he could reach all the spots inside me that made me tremble all over.

“You like that?” he asked hoarsely after a hard thrust.

I took a moment to recover my breath before answering. “I fucking love it.”

Wade was rough, but I expected no less. The quick pace of his thrusts and the sound of his wet cock sliding in and out of me, of his balls slapping against me, of his growls and hisses mingling with my moans and cries only made my skin burn hotter and my heart race faster. It felt like I was coming undone, like Wade was unraveling me and shattering me to pieces, yet like a phoenix, I felt myself coming alive amid the flames and the chaos. I could not get enough of it.

But the pleasure was too much. It swept through every inch of my body after Wade gave a final, deep thrust, folding my body nearly in half. I threw my head back and gasped and shuddered, my trembling fingers clutching the sides of the mat I was on. Tears leaked out of my eyes as I squeezed them shut.

When I opened them again, Wade had already pulled out, though his shoulders were still heaving. His jaw was tense as he stared at the screen door leading inside the house, and when I turned my head, I understood why.

Max was standing behind the glass with a bouquet of red roses in his hand, looking at us.

Was he angry? Jealous? No. That look in his eyes was something more familiar to me: desire.

And the bulge that I saw in his pants confirmed it.

It was enough to reignite the fever that had barely left my body, the embers of lust in my veins roaring to life once more.

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