Page 45 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

What the fuck?

A mysterious smile creeps slowly across Keyshawn’s face. My dick stands straight at attention despite her disobedience. No. Because of it. I promised that I wouldn’t do anything close to hurting her while she was pregnant, and I have allowed her to see that I’m not just a complete monster.

I thought that was working at first, but my kindness has done absolutely nothing to soften Keyshawn’s heart towards me. She clearly doesn’t even care aboutourbaby, and what this commitment could mean for both of us.

“You hate me?” I ask her.

“Yes,” Keyshawn says.

I stick my tongue out and press it to the bottom of her chin. I keep holding her face and lick her from her chin all over the side of her neck until I get to her earlobe. Before pulling away, I kiss her on the forehead. My thumb sinks into her jaw.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re mine. I can lick you. Fuck you. Do whatever I want with you. And if you think for a second running away will work, you’re wrong. I will strap you down and inject a GPS tracker under your skin myself.”

I let her cheeks go and Keyshawn falls back onto her heels. Still smiling like a fucking crazy person.

“What the fuck is making you smile so hard?”

“Nothing.”

But she can’t hidethe grin on her face, even if me noticing her grin makes her try her very best to suppress her joy.Damn it.

“Tell me.”

“This is the closest you have come to a reaction in weeks.”

What the fuck?

“I’ve spentthe past few weeks doing everything you wanted and treating you like a princess.”

My princess. The mother of my child. Why can’t she see that?

“Right,” Keyshawn says, exposing some of her frustration as her brows knit together and the grin washes off her face. “Princess treatment. I guess you’re fucking some other woman’s mouth when you’re out all day.”

Is that what this is about?

It’smy turn to have a broad grin on my face. Now I understand. Women are complicated, but they’re still human, and beneath their wild and completely incomprehensible emotions, there is usually something grounded that they can’t find the words to reveal.

“You are the only woman I have any interest in fucking.”

“You expect me to believe you gave up rough sex completely and the only thing you care about is eating me out and pretending to be the perfect boyfriend.”

Our eyes meet nervouslyat Keyshawn’s accidental usage of one of those unspoken “forbidden words” between us. Our relationship never needed labels before, especially because we had a contract, which defined everything much more clearly than any romantic label.

“I know I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”

She bites down on her lower lip, keeping her feelings stuffed. But can either of us afford to do that right now? Thebaby inside Keyshawn is very fucking real. Our relationship is real. Maybe more than both of us realized.

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

Another test from my favorite brat.

“I’m more important than any boyfriend, Keyshawn. I’m the father of your child, the one man on this earth you can always count on.”

She lets me touch her lips with my thumb. Those lips started everything between us, and I should have known from how good they felt that those lips would also mean trouble. Keyshawn’s attitude both gets me hard and makes it harder for me to suppress my urges. This realization that she craves this expression of my desire for her makes this… impossible.

“Do you take her to the other playroom?” Keyshawn accuses me. My heart drops to my stomach. She continues to doubt me – and it fucking hurts.

“There is no other woman.”

---