Biker's Bride (Demons MC)

And I did. I came hard, his cock filling my pussy up as I worked my hips, gripping the cold steel of his bike, feeling the leather under my face.

I was panting, sweating, buzzing from the orgasm as he continued to fuck me, working himself up.

“Keep going,” I begged. “I want you to come. Fill me up. Come in me, Ford.”

“Fuck, girl, I love hearing you say that,” he grunted. “God I want to fill you up, your tight pretty pussy.”

He worked me and I moved my hips back, working them, rolling them, helping him. I wanted him to come so badly, needed it almost as much as I’d needed my own orgasm.

His hands gripped my hips as he fucked me hard up against his bike, fucking me deep and rough. “God damn,” he grunted, groaning. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

I felt him stiffen, his thrusts getting more insistent, deeper, stiffer. I took his solid cock, bucking my hips back against him, as he came.

“Shit,” he said, slowing down and finally stopping. “Fuck, you’re fucking incredible.”

He pulled away from me and I turned around, pressing my body against his, kissing him hard.

I was buzzing like crazy, floating from the orgasm, out of my mind on pleasure and joy.

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me, kissing me back.

“I want to do that every fucking day, girl,” he grunted.

“Maybe not outside like this every time,” I said, laughing.

“Afraid someone saw?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“I just fucked Caralee’s tight fucking cunt,” he yelled, his voice echoing through the forest.

I slapped his arm, laughing. “Stop!”

“What? I’m not ashamed to announce it. I want the world to know how delicious you are.”

I smiled and pressed my face against his chest.

He held me like that. I didn’t want to dress, didn’t want to leave, but I knew we had to. His bike called to us.

Eventually we got our pants back on, climbed onto his motorcycle, and pulled back down the dirt road.

I clung to his chest as we sped along the highway together.

Chapter Thirty: Ford

Nothing was better for my head than fucking Caralee. There wasn’t anything in the world that could take the stress away like that woman’s pussy. I had no clue how or why, but she was fucking incredible, insatiable, wet and amazing.

We headed back toward the clubhouse. I figured that would be the safest place to be for a while after the shootout, and plus, I needed to touch base with Larkin. I had to see what was going on.

Because we may have been close to finishing things, but we still had some damn work to do.

I kept thinking about Caralee the whole ride back. I could feel her gripping my body on the bike, her hands on my chest as the wind whipped past. It was becoming more about just keeping her safe, more about helping someone I knew from my past.

Hell, it always had been. I had to admit to myself that it was more than just because I fucking wanted to help her.

I felt something for her. Felt something I didn’t think I’d ever feel. Maybe I had always felt it; maybe it was always there, even back when she was just the girl across the street, the girl I couldn’t help but watch, the girl I wanted to get to know but was too busy chasing sluts all through town to do so.

One taste of her and I was hooked. That was all it took, one taste, and I couldn’t get her out of my head.

Caralee, my claimed bride, my wife.

We sped through town and parked outside the Demon Nest. The clubhouse looked surprisingly empty, especially considering what had gone down earlier.

I got off the bike and pulled Caralee along behind me.

“I need to find Larkin,” I said to her.

“Okay,” she said. “I see Janine over there.”

I nodded and gave her a look. She smiled back and headed off to sit with Janine and Clutch at the bar.

I went over to the back and knocked on Larkin’s door.

“Go away,” he yelled.

“It’s Ford,” I said.

There was a short pause. “Come in.”

I pushed the door open. Larkin looked up at me. “We’re knee-deep in shit right now,” he said.

“What’s up?”

“Local police being assholes. They want a larger cut to ignore what happened earlier.”

“Assholes.”

“This is the sort of shit you deal with as the damn president,” he said. “What can I do for you, Ford?”

“I talked to Jetter earlier,” I said, sitting down.

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you now?”

“He called me, wanted to give me half a million for Caralee.”

Larkin laughed. “I can’t imagine Jetter has that kind of money.”

“Yeah, neither can I.”

“He probably was going to rip you off and sell the girl to the Snakes.”

“Obviously I said no.”

Larkin nodded. “Obviously.”

“One more thing, prez,” I said. “Something about these drugs is bothering me.”