Page 24 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

He sucks my juices off my lips and then runs his wet mouth over my thighs until he finds spots that he wants to taste. Owen gives me a hickey on my inner thighs. I can feel the hot blood rushing to the area where he marks me and when I cry out in pain, he makes a delighted growl in the back of his throat and continues marking me.

It’s so fucking intense and different from anything that I’ve ever felt that I climax without his lips on my pussy. The response provokes him to tease my lips open with his finger as he continues leaving hickeys behind on my thighs. I gasp loudly as he thrusts his finger inside me, feeling how wet I am and forcing me to face how weirdly fucking good he makes me feel. Heat rushes to my entrance as his large finger spreads me open. It’s not exactly painful, but his finger is dry at first, covered onlyin the light juices at my entrance until he pushes deep and gets every inch wet.

“I’m so deep in your pussy,” he murmurs, continuing to kiss my thigh as he plunges his finger into my pussy. “I can’t wait to fuck you…”

He eases his finger out of me and gets to his feet. That rattling in my heart gets faster. He just looks at me with such a strange expression on his face that I feel like I have to run.

Like I have to do it.

“What’s that look for?” he asks, running his wet finger over my lips. I can taste myself. Smell myself. That only adds to my nervous feeling.

"It's nothing," I whisper. But I want to make it sound convincing because the last thing I want is for this man to get even a little suspicious. "I just feel... really good."

He looks at me like I just left him milk and cookies beneath a Christmas Tree.

"I knew I could make you cum," says, getting so close to me that all I can smell is my pussy on his lips. His face was all the way up in there and he doesn't seem to care that my pussy covered his beard in my juices.

"Now get off this counter and show me your ass."

He doesn't hold anything about his desires back, which makes this a little easier. But what I don't like is all the emotion. Sex was always boring before this. Always one predictable way... And we're not even done yet. We haven't even started yet and this man has me completely thrown off my game.

I should be in charge of myself here. In charge of my fate. I'm planning to run away and if I want to succeed, it will requireplanning. What if I can't trust this man? What if he drags me back to Hakeem? I hop off the counter before my silence gets too suspicious and awakens Owen to my well hidden anxiety.

Once I get off the counter, he defies my expectations that he'll get straight to business again and kisses me. The kiss surprises me. I’ve never had a man kiss me at this point in the "process" of getting me into bed. They normally forget kissing once they're sure they can stop pretending to win me over.

When Owen pulls away, he's grinning again. See? This is how I know he's crazy. How much money did this man lose tonight? How the hell can he smile like that?

"Your lips are so... is it racist if I say something?"

"It depends on what you say."

"They're really big. And soft."

I don't know what to tell him. I feel like it should be a racist statement, but his tone is a lot more loving and appreciative than mocking. But yes, I know my lips are big. It's only the main thing I was teased for growing up aside from my weight. I almost want to hide them. But I can't hide anything from him at this point.

"Thanks. I guess."

"Hope I didn't offend you. I grew up hearing black girls were all loud and... too different. But I like different."

He puts his hands on my hips and for a moment, we're just looking at each other. It's intense. Emotional. And this is the wrong place. He paid for a night with me -- not for my heart. And I won't be the fool to get my emotions involved in a blatant transaction.

Without awaiting his second instruction, I turn around and show him my bare ass. Juices dribble down my thighs and I press my forearms into the counter to show him... more. He moves my braids away from my back. I clearly did just enough to distract him from continuing any emotionally sensitive conversations.

Owen attacks my ass with his hands first, running his hands over my ass cheeks and making low pleasurable noises in his throat like a fucking animal. I mean... I have a big ass, but I never thought of it as particularly sexy. In a world where black women are expected to have a perfect BBL booty or die on the operating table to get one, my large but relatively shapeless ass always felt... less appealing.

It's not like I compared myself on purpose. The comparisons were just out there. Constant. In the media. In what was left of my family after my mother and father got caught up in that conspiracy case...

"Your ass is fucking sexy," Owen says in that low, sexy voice. "Your natural ass shape... Those curves... It's taking everything I have not to put my tongue all the way up your asshole."

He follows up by hitting my ass with a sharp slap, as if he can smack me into forgetting that he just threatened my butthole with his tongue.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'll come back out to the desert and trust me, Vickie... I'll search every last inch of this city for you if that's what it takes for another night with this ass."

I glance over my shoulder, incapable of resisting the curiosity as I watch this man disrobe his lower half. I'm bent over the counter, which would get me hot and excited with how forbidden it is, except it just reminds me that this is a transaction. All the heat and excitement I feel is nothing but a fraud. My body's reaction to help me get this over with.

An uncomfortable lump forms in my throat once Owen's pants hit the ground and I catch sight of his dick, a large bulge protruding through his underwear. I could feel that he had a large dick each time his erection pressed up on me but... nothing like this.

He works his underwear over his ass and drops it to the floor, exposing the terrifying truth. His dick is even bigger than I originally thought. It's massive. I feel like someone shoved a hard-boiled egg down my throat. What the fuck. What the fuck!?

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