Page 50 of Biker's Prisoner: Property of Bucky

We don’t make it far from the window sill. Ruger sets my ass on the kitchen counter. Sex. I haven’t had sex in… a long time. I went out of my way to avoid it in Las Vegas. I didn’t need more problems with more men than I already dealt with. This feels like the build up I always dreamed of.

“I want you so fucking bad,” he whispers.

I can feel it.His dick presses eagerly against my thighs. The kitchen smells like lime juice and thyme. Ruger has a thin layer of sweat building up on his forehead. My hands grip his t-shirt, desperate to take it off. I’m ready to give in to everything he wants. To make this happen.

Shaking nervously, my hand cups around Ruger’s dick slowly through the outside of his Carhartt jeans. I can feel his yearning for me. His heat… The cabin is all warm from Ruger’s catch baking in the oven. There’s something weirdly sexy about the way he hunts most of his food. I find a lot of strange things about this man sexy – especially his body.

He places a gentle hand on my shoulder. I shiver because it feels so wrong that a man this harsh and wild could even have the capacity to be gentle. I wouldn’t have believed it at all if I hadn’t watched Ruger with Eden. The way he changes her is enough for female biology to take over. I forget about his hands covered in blood and only think about those hands delicately cradling Eden against his chest.

The hand travels down my arm, spreading awareness of my attraction to Ruger straight through me. Warmth. Heat. The unfortunate gush between my thighs. I’m just glad he can’t see the heat rushing to my cheeks the way that I can with him. Hemoves his hips forward, allowing me to cradle his dick in my hands.

His bulge is so big that I can’t fit my entire hand around it. Ruger’s member curves around and folds to fit inside his jeans.

That dick is enormous. Holy shit. I make eye contact with him again and immediately regret it. His eyes meet mine and I know that it’s on. I hate myself for betraying it. Giving him this confirmation of my desires. He’s a full grown man. He just has to look at me to know what’s up. People have this incredible ability to communicate without speech.

The skill works against me. Ruger steps closer, the gap between us shrinks as my thighs wrap around his. Damn, this man has muscular legs. Powerful legs that straddle a powerful bike. He doesn’t stop looking at me. His hand moves to my hair and he takes one of my messy curls between his fingers, dragging it until the curl stretches. Then he lets it spring back.

Confusion registers on Ruger’s face. Moments like this make me wary of him.

“It’s long.”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

My chest tightens nervously as I wait for him to say something inappropriate and snap me out of the moment. Even if I ignore it right now, deep down… I know he’s fucked in the head. But it doesn’t stop me from tightening my grip slowly on his dick, desperate to provoke a response from him. It’s too easy.

Ruger smiles. “You want me.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure you do,” he says, whispering it with conviction before kissing me on the neck. I moan when he kisses me and it is so embarrassing. Downright humiliating. Ruger chuckles and moves my head to the side, tilting my neck more. He kisses me again, sucking on my flesh possessively before he pulls his lips tomy ear and whispers. “I just need to feel your pretty lips around my dick first.”

My heart drops to my stomach. Any time Ruger mentions my lips, dread bundles itself into a deep chest knot. I don’t know what type of spicy comment could fly out of this white boy’s mouth. But he chases his shockingly neutral statement with another soft neck kiss, then he tilts my face towards his so I can kiss him again.

When he pulls away, Ruger steps back and glances at a spot on the ground.

“I can get my bearskin rug for you to kneel on,” he says, meeting my gaze with a grin after his little suggestion.

“Wasn’t our agreement sex?”

“Feeling your mouth around my dick is a part of sex.”

“You seem plenty ready.”

“I didn’t realize you were that greedy to get my dick,” he says with so much smugness, I regret my comments instantly. “Is that what you like, princess? A nice big white dick?”

There it is. A comment spicy enough to justify the knot in my chest. Ruger sees my disapproving look and chuckles as he kisses me on the nose. And then the lips. I try to scowl and not encourage him by kissing him back, but this man doesn’t give a crap. He just keeps kissing me until I forget to fight his lips off and I open my mouth to let him tease my tongue with his.

“Don’t get offended,” he says when he pulls away this time. “I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

“Shut up.”

“I will once I get my dick in your mouth,” he whispers, sliding his thumb along the inside of my lips. Everything he does is so deeply possessive. I don’t even dare look away from him when we’re this close. My heart pounds as Ruger takes his finger out of my mouth and sucks my spit off.

“I bet those lips are soft,” he whispers. I slide off the counter onto my knees. I’ve heard some of Ruger’s dirty talk and I would rather his lip-related commentary stay innocent. He grins once I get on my knees, fighting off a painful grimace from how hard I hit the floor.

When I see him smiling, I wonder for a brief moment if Ruger made that little comment to manipulate me. Is he that smart?

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