Page 42 of Baby for the Bikers

My stomach tightens, my cock pulsing, my entire body locking up as the orgasm slams into me like a goddamn wrecking ball. I groan, low and wrecked, as I spill into her throat.

She whimpers, swallowing me down, sucking gently as I shudder, barely holding myself upright.

I don’t let go of her hair, even when I finally pull back. She gasps for air, her lips slick, swollen, and completely wrecked.

I drag my thumb along her bottom lip, watching the way she pants, needy, ruined.

Then, finally, I give her an answer.

“Yes,” I murmur. “I did.”

Her eyes go dark, her thighs pressing together. She fucking loves it.

Rowan is still on her knees, her lips swollen, slick with spit and cum, her breath ragged. She looks wrecked, pupils blown wide, chest rising and falling fast.

I can’t stop staring at her.

Her tongue flicks out, swiping the corner of her lips. “Are you gonna fuck me now?”

Without a word, I reach down, gripping her wrist tight enough to make her gasp, hauling her off the floor with absolutely no effort. Her body collides with mine, her bare tits pressing against my chest, and before she can catch her breath, I spin her around and shove her back onto the supply table, spreading her legs wide, stepping between them like I own her.

I grab my cock and drag the head along her soaking slit, coating myself in the obscene amount of cum that’s already dripping from her. She shudders at the sensation, her fingers digging into the edge of the table, her breath catching as I press the tip just inside her.

When she realizes that I’m still holding back, that I’m still making her wait, she lets out a frustrated whimper and lifts her hips, trying to take me inside her herself.

My hands grip her hips, pinning her down, making sure she understands that I am the one in control here, not her. My fingers tighten, my nails digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as I lean forward and mutter, “You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you?”

She shudders at my words, her head tilting back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. “Yes,” she breathes, voice barely more than a whimper, but it’s enough. “I need it, Ryder. I need you. Please?—”

I don’t let her finish.

“You’re fucking soaked,” I mutter, my voice low, wrecked, almost dangerous. “You really think you can handle me?”

She lifts her chin, fire in her eyes. “I know I can.”

I smirk. “We’ll see.”

And then I drive into her.

All of me.

One deep, brutal thrust.

Her mouth drops open in a silent scream, her body arching as I stretch her wide, forcing her to take all of my cock. She’s so tight, so fucking hot, her walls gripping me like she’s never had anything like this before.

I don’t give her time to adjust.

I pull back, then slam into her again.

Her cry is pure fucking music.

Her fingers claw at my arms, nails digging in as I set a punishing rhythm.

Fast. Hard. Unrelenting.

Each thrust drives her against the table, making her body jolt and her eyes roll back. She can’t even breathe properly. Can barely hold herself together.

And I’m just getting started.

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