Page 47 of Her Possessive Bikers

I chuckle, shaking my head. “A bit,” I admit, “but I’d do it all over again if I could see your face look like it did the first time I ever stuck it in every day.”

Her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink at my words, and she bites her lower lip. “You’re something else,” she says softly.

“So are you,” I reply, brushing a strand of hair from her face before leaning in to kiss her again.

The shower spray is hot against our skin as we step under it together. The water washes away the dirt and sweat, but it does nothing to cool the fire between us. Indy’s hands are everywhere—tracing my tattoos, exploring the planes of my chest. I can’t get enough of her either; every touch is electric.

I lift Indy up effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist. The heat of the water and the heat of her skin blend into one as I press her back against the cool tiles. Her breath hitches, and I feel her nails dig into my shoulders.

“Jacoby,” she gasps, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Hold on tight,” I whisper, positioning myself at her entrance. I thrust in, slow at first, letting her adjust to thepiercing. Her cry echoes in the small bathroom, a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Oh my God,” she moans, her head falling back against the wall.

“You okay?” I ask, though my own voice is strained with desire.

“Better than okay,” she pants, her hips moving to meet mine.

I set a rhythm that’s anything but gentle. The sounds of our bodies slapping together mix with the rush of the shower. Her moans grow louder, but I capture them with my mouth, muffling her cries as my tongue explores hers.

“Jacoby, harder,” she pleads between kisses.

I don’t need more encouragement. My pace becomes punishing, each thrust sending her head bouncing off the tiles. She clings to me like a lifeline, and I can feel her body trembling as she gets closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Indy,” I grunt, feeling my own release building.

She’s close too; I can see it in the way her eyes glaze over and hear it in the pitch of her cries. I pull out suddenly and set her down on shaky legs. Before she can protest, I turn her around to face the wall.

“I want to see that ass,” I growl into her ear.

She complies eagerly, arching her back and presenting herself to me. The sight is almost too much; she’s perfect—flushed skin, curves that scream for attention. I slide back into her with a groan, feeling how tight and wet she is.

“Jacoby!” She screams this time, unable to hold back.

“Like that?” I ask, grabbing a handful of her ass as I thrust deeper.

“Yes! Don’t stop,” she begs, pushing back against me.

I watch myself disappear into her over and over again. The sight drives me wild. Her ass bounces with each thrust, a hypnotic rhythm that matches our breathing.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “So perfect.”

She whimpers in response, too lost in pleasure to form words. My hand moves from her hip to between her legs, finding that sensitive spot that makes her buck against me even harder.

“Oh God, Jacoby!” Her voice cracks as she clenches around me, reaching her climax with a shuddering cry.

I’m right behind her; a few more thrusts and I’m done for. With a final deep push, I pull out, and spill all down her voluptuous ass. I'm gripping her hips so hard there will probably be marks later.

We stay like that for a moment—panting, bodies still joined under the hot spray of water. Finally, I pull out and turn her around to face me again.

“You okay?” I ask softly, brushing wet hair from her face.

She looks up at me with those hazel eyes and smiles tiredly. “More than okay.”

"Looks like this dirty girl needs another shower," I say, whispering in her ear.

"As long as you volunteer to do the washing, you wore my ass out Jacoby." she says with a sigh as she lays her head on my shoulder.

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