Page 51 of Biker's Prisoner: Property of Bucky

“Good girl,” Ruger says, patting me on the head once I’m on my knees. Okay, that part was definitely done to piss me off.

“Hey,” I snap at him. “Don’t pat me like Zeus.”

He chuckles, never losing focus of his mission as he undoes his belt and unzips his pants. Before I can explain to Ruger what the hell he’s done wrong, he has his jeans on the ground and his boxer briefs halfway over his ass.

“Open up,” Ruger says, tapping the bottom of my chin. I glare at him, but right before I can tell him off — which would technically include obeying his command — my oven timer rings annoyingly throughout the cabin.

Ruger looks like he’s ready to rip a man’s face off as two of his most primal desires struggle for dominance.

“Dinner’s ready,”I announce to this crazy white man from my knees. His dick was halfway out of those boxer briefs. But he is way too hungry to choose sex right now. If he could go sixteen days without it…

Ruger scowls and reaches for his jeans. “You aren’t out of the woods yet, princess. I’m just hungry as fuck and you cook some damn good dinner.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ruger

My dick is so goddamn hard throughout dinner that the pent up frustration inside me turns to anger. Pure rage. I keep it all away from Zayna, of course. But the closer I get to her, the more I feel my crazy side taking over. It won’t be enough for me to kill the three men who raped her. I want to kill her ex-boyfriend too.

I need him dead. Desperately.

I know from Zayna's teacher sense of morality, she won’t understand. But that’s just the way I love. I don’t want another man alive to have laid hands on my woman. Zayna eats her fish and vegetables with slow, polite bites. Watching her makes me self aware that I eat like an animal. Doesn’t really matter around bikers, but I want Zayna to feel like she can trust me. So I force myself to slow down.

That just makes the dick situation more painful. I can’t find a good position to sit in that doesn’t hurt. My balls only make the situation worse. I have never been more aware of them in my life and it is fucked up. Zayna just keeps eating. Slowly. Wrapping her sexy ass lips around the fork instead of my dick.

God. She’s hot.

I want to marry her. I know what Doc would tell me. Same thing he told me with Darlene.

“I think you need to slow down.”

I slowed down for sixteen days. I slowed down in the kitchen. I’ll slow down when I get my dick in her mouth first. But right now, this speed is fucking painful. I finish eating first, even if I do my best to slow down. Zeus stops begging me once I’m done eating and moves on to begging Zayna, who does a good job of ignoring him, despite temptation. She finishes up and looks up at me with concern on her face.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes. Are you kidding me? You’re a great cook.”

“Most nights you say something.”

“You know you’re a good cook. You’re eating the same thing.”

I’m distracted. Her lips. Her everything.

“Sorry, princess,” I tell her. “I will be sure to compliment your cooking every time.”

Zayna rolls her eyes. “I’m not desperate.”

“I didn’t think you were. I’ll do the dishes.”

“Since when?”

“Since you satisfied me with a delicious dinner.”

She seems suspicious, so I let her take her plate up to the sink. I point to a spot on the counter.

“You sit up there.”

“Excuse me?”

---