Jewell (Biker Bitches 7)

Every clamp and suck of his mouth tore whimpers from her. The desire she had been denying she felt for him was now undeniable from the pleas she was making to him. “Slower … Hmm … Faster … Harder … Oh God, like that …”

He manipulated her pussy like the conductor of an orchestra, taking her to highs she had never believed possible and lows that she didn’t think she could reach, coming more and more. He played her like a maestro, playing with her delicate strings like they had never been played with before.

Tendrils of her hair started to cling to her forehead. Raising a shaky hand to smooth it back, she lifted glazed eyes to watch Rory. She was already battling exhaustion, and he was still raring to go.

As determined eyes pinned her to the mattress, her blood ran cold. She already knew who he was going to be next.

Moving to the side of the bed where his suitcase laid open, he opened a pouch that she remembered held thin chains. Moving to the wall, he removed the picture to lay it further away. Then, lifting her, he carried her to the wall.

Jewell didn’t resist as he chained her to the wall, face forward, flipping her braid over her shoulder to completely bare her back. She felt his chest against her back as he pressed her hard against the wall. His cock rode the crack of her ass, the head sliding through the slickness to enter her pussy. Stretching out his arms alongside of hers, he linked their fingers together as he started to fuck her.

She was unable to hold back the small whimpers coming from her throat.

“Shade never held my ha—”

“I’m not Shade.”

Rory was finally revealing himself.

Her head fell back on his shoulder as driving thrusts embedded him completely inside of her clenching pussy.

Had she thought he was a maestro? Fuck, he was a fucking prodigy, able to be and play anyone he chose while capable of skills none could hope to master.

Thrust after thrust had her hips bouncing off the wall and back into his until her shaking legs started to give out.

Catching her, he held her in place, his strong arms taking her weight. Her fingers clung to the chains when she felt him start to climax in the condom he had put on.

Jewell laid her sweaty forehead on the arm that was holding her upright, incapable of doing anything other than let Rory hold on to her as he removed the chains to carry her into the bathroom.

The black tiled shower was a welcoming sight to her, as well as the cool water that came from the overhead rain shower heads pouring down on them. She was too exhausted to do anything but rest against Rory as he washed both of them off then dried her, before drying himself.

Jewell found herself ushered into his bed with him climbing in next to her. Turning the light off, he snuggled close to her, one arm going under hers, the other around her waist.

“Go to sleep. I can feel your wheels moving a thousand miles a minute.”

Jewell yawned. “Don’t think you can order me around because I let you fuck me.”

“I’m not the one used to bossing people around.”

A sudden thought occurred to Jewell, which had her sitting straight up in bed. “Was that free, or am I supposed to pay you?”

Her nipples peaked in fear at the menacing glare he gave her.

“Lie back down.”

Jewell sensed she had pushed him too far. “I’m sorry.”

Rory rolled over to look down at her in the dark. The hair on her arms stood on end.

A tender kiss placed on her mouth didn’t ease her uneasiness, nor when he slid his hand over her breast to lay it over her heart.

“Consider tonight a freebie. The next time I bring you to my bed, be prepared to pay a price too steep for you to pay with any amount of money.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jewell stayed until she felt Rory’s body relax around her. Slipping quietly out from the covers, she picked up her scattered clothes to tiptoe out of his room. Getting dressed in the hallway, she went upstairs through the quiet house.

Closing her bedroom door behind her, she changed into a pair of terry shorts and a thin T-shirt before moving to the dresser to take the teddy bear out of the bottom drawer.

Holding the bear tightly to her chest, she went to open her window. Then, falling to her knees, she braced herself against the wall to look up into the dark sky.

“Happy Birthday, baby.” Pressing the bear to the side of her face, she pressed the button on the paw to hear the pumping heartbeat. “I miss you so badly,” she whispered brokenly. The cold wind whipping into the room from the window wasn’t as cold as the freezing cold she had been living with since her son’s death.