Page 48 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

My pregnancy has been mostly peaceful, but not entirely bliss. I have aches and pains, especially when I have to walk around for too long and definitely after amechanical needle repeatedly jams itself into a part of my body that doesn’t have much flesh. Deacon helps me to cover my lower half gently and keeps his hand pressed protectively to the small of my back as he leads me to the next part of our ritual together.

The tattooon my skin doesn’t sting like my ass did after a whipping with the riding crop. But there’s still very much a sting. And we can get close to each other after he causes pain like this. Deacon clutches me like I’m precious and cleans the tattoo carefully, reviewing the instructions he expects me to carry out to prevent infection while I heal.

Once Deacon scrubs my body clean, the lingering closeness between us easily devolves into kissing. I don’t want to say who starts it. We lean towards each other, magnetic forces outside our control pushing us together until I get that first contact high from Deacon’s lips. It’s like I can’t enjoy the gentle side of him without succumbing first to the pain. His lips nibble down my neck, each kiss turning more possessive and even more like a bite than the first one.

Yes…

I yieldto the forbidden temptation. Deacon is a great kisser and I want him to find my lips instead of my neck. After squirming and making every effort to guide him with my body, he eventually pins me against the sides of the tub with all his force and takes deeper kisses only when he’s ready.

But the deeper kisses come. My heart pumps blood faster, my chest pushing up desperately against Deacon’s as my body begs him to take this out of the tub and into our bedroom. His tub is too fancy for us to wait for the water to get cold – it’snever cold. I grind my hips against Deacon, practically begging him to grab my ass and pull my body closer to his. Once I wrap my legs around him and his fingers sink into my ass cheeks, I feel a pang of desire for the playroom games we left behind.

I miss his paddle. I miss his riding crop.

And Deacon is very rightabout this baby. The baby makes everything between us have this sense of “rightness” that otherwise wouldn’t exist. I can justify everything we do together with this special bond, this new life we both created together. He pushes his body closer to me, still gentle when it comes to the baby bump, but barely capable of restraining himself.

I worry when Deacon pulls his lips away that he’ll end this here and use waiting as another form of torture. It’s the form of torture he uses against himself the most. I wouldn’t be surprised if he eventually turned on me and forced me to have even more patience…

But he just pushes hair out of my face, staring at me seriously. My heart throbs unwillingly. There’s something oddly exciting about his unreadable emotions. I don’t care if he stays silent as long as he drags me back to that bedroom and shows me exactly how he feels about me with all the enthusiasm and primal lust of a total caveman.

“I will never let you go,” he whispers. “Do you understand? Never.”

“I understand.”

“Those words mean something to me.” His fingers slowly stroke my lips. I’m oddly ticklish, still excessively sensitive from his slow touching in the tub and all the ways he teases me while scrubbing me clean. His kissing only adds to thatsensitivity. “When I get my tattoo, this will be official. You, Keyshawn, are my old lady. My woman. Mine in every sense of the word.”

He lowers a hand to my baby bump. I shiver.

“Now,”Deacon whispers. “I’m going to take your sexy, pregnant, tattooed ass to bed and fuck you as hard as I can without hurting our little one.”

Deacon bendsme over the bed, stripping me naked and dropping to his knees between my legs. My hip crease stings a little from the tattoo, but it feels good to be clean and even better to have Deacon’s firm hand pressed into my back as he bends me over. When he drops to his knees, he slowly drags them across the ground and presses his face between my legs.

I shiver as his beard scrapes the flesh across the back of my thighs. He firmly grasps my legs and then spreads my lower lips with his tongue. Holy shit. His tongue feels better than before. Softer. More deliberate. Deacon teases my lower lips and I realize this is just another game of torture and control for him. He’s too slow, and it’s so fucking painful, but I can’t cum because of how gently his tongue moves over my outer lips.

I need more stimulation.

Deacon is a master of torture.His tongue roams slowly over my outer lips, sinking between my flesh occasionally, rubbing over my clit and then pulling back to continue his slow teasing. I feel my body ready to explode at his touch. Just when I get close to a climax, Deacon pulls away. Juicesdribble and then turn into a gush as Deacon teases with his fingers. He refuses to give me more. Deacon stands and panic surges through me.Is he done? Is he going to half-fuck me with his tongue and make me go to bed?

Deacon drops his towel. My emotional low surges into a high. Each moment of anticipation stretches out with unbeatable euphoria. Deacon has my biology completely hijacked. I want to cum so badly that I would impale myself on his dick voluntarily, even knowing how badly it hurts to take his dick for the first time.

He exerts control with a palm pressed against my lower back. I arch my back to give him better access to my entrance. I crave release desperately now. I’m pregnant, ridiculously horny, and Deacon’s teasing has officially brought out my feral side. I whimper when I feel his large head press against me. I wiggle my hips, hoping to urge him inside me faster, but Deacon remains in control.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you wanted this,” he growls before sliding his dick inside me with one smooth but painful thrust. As my body reacts to the enormous intrusion, Deacon presses his hand more firmly against my back, and nestles his hips so his dick pushes deeper. I feel so full that I can barely breathe.

Deacon groans. “You feel so fucking tight.”

He moveshis dick out of me slowly. I’m about to cum already and he barely moved his dick. He thrusts inside me again slowly, pushing his dick back all the way until the point where it hurts. Despite the pain, I want more of him. I want Deacon to fuck me hard until I feel good.

I can’t push my hips back because of how hard he holds me down, but feeling his total control over me just makes iteasier for me to cum. Deacon’s primal instincts take over and he can’t continue his painfully slow thrusts. Euphoria rushes to every part of me as he moves his hips faster, fucking me hard against our bed after he just tattooed me in the living room.

“Yes…”I moan as my body gets closer. I want to cum so badly. Every inch of my body craves release. But I can’t push against him and get more. I have to submit to Deacon’s hard fucking and wait for my orgasm. He gives me exactly what I want and reaches around to rub my clit as he fucks me deep and hard. He doesn’talwaysgive my clit this much attention. But in this animalistic state, and after hurting me with his needle, he goes the extra mile to pleasure me.

I cum so hard that I almost black out. He keeps rubbing my clit as I gasp and beg for him to stop.

Technically, I just say, “Please…”

He could interpret that to mean “Please, continue…”

I feellike I’m about to fall unconscious, but I can’t beg him to stop out loud. Deacon keeps fucking me until another intense orgasm pushes my ability to hold onto any thoughts at all. He fucks me until I’m sore, and when he finally cums, I wish I could hold him against me to take every drop of his cum inside me, forcing it deep inside me.

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