Making the Break (Beating the Biker 2) - Page 14

Did she? Did she? She writhed again but not from pain. Her stomach fluttered and her core tensed with anticipation.

“Should I make my bad girl feel good?”

She nodded, and he rewarded her with another thwack to her back end. She jerked but more from his hand hitting her rear rather than from real hurt. He rubbed the area sensuously and she grew wet.

He leaned over and kissed the sensitive area, and more of her juices moistened her center.

“You smell,” he whispered, “so fucking hot. I could fuck you right now. Grab your hips and pound you from behind until you scream my name.”

Chrissy whimpered. This man made her a mess of desire and emotions. She wanted him—bad. So much she couldn’t care less what her family thought about it. She wanted him to have her right now.

“Bad girl,” he said with mock disappointment. “I said not to make any noise.”

His hand swatted her with a little more force this time. As the burn of his hand brought tears to her eyes, it took everything she had not to make a sound. It didn’t really hurt. What hurt was wanting him inside her and he’d made no move to take her.

“There,” he said appreciatively as he smoothed her sensitive flesh. “I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

Chrissy breathed hard. The last strike blossomed her desire into a full-blown blaze. Every part of her burned for him, for Saks to give her what he promised not seconds ago.

He lifted her off his knees and disappointment spread through her. He wasn’t going to stop now, was he?

Her eyes met his and she couldn’t plead more elegantly for him to take her if she wrote an eight- stanza love poem. What drew them was together was magnetic. It wasn’t him or her who made the first move. Their lips met in a crushing kiss, dancing over flesh, screaming their passion for each other. Their lips sought ears, neck, breasts frantically, and Chrissy reached for Saks’ belt.

He didn’t need more of a hint. He pulled at his buckle and stood, dropping his pants. Chrissy leaned forward on the couch, pushing her rear toward him, and looked over her shoulder.

Saks stood there, almost in shock, but then he shook his head and dropped to his knees. He pulled her knees apart.

A sensation burned through her that sent her lust into overdrive.

Saks put his hands on both sides of her derrière, but then lowered his head and sank between her legs. His tongue licked at her bud, sending shocks through her. But it wasn’t what she needed. She was too far gone for more foreplay and thought she’d cry in frustration.

“Fuck me, Saks,” she gritted. “Now.”

“Bossy.”

“Damn straight.”

She gasped when he shifted and then thrust into her in one fluid move. Chrissy bucked her hips into him, and he thrust again and again while his hands slid up her back and held her shoulders. He held her in place with his strong hands, his cock pounding her relentlessly.

Chrissy let go of all control. She melted with the rising sensations coursing through her body, her breath speeding up, moaning with every thrust he made into her.

Her back arched and her legs trembled. If Saks didn’t hold her so tightly, she would have melted into the couch. One of his hands squeezed her breast and she shivered. Every inch of her flesh burned with pleasure, every stroke of his cock was sweet delightful torture. She jammed her hands into the leather of the couch and pushed back onto his hot dick, needing every inch he could give her.

She panted, stuck at a plateau, overheated and too excited to catch more sensation. She whimpered. She worried that in her hyper-excited state if she would come at all.

“Fuck me,” she said in fierce whisper. “Fuck me, hard. I need to come.”

She had never been so wanton with a man, so demanding of her own pleasure. Saks threw his muscled arm around her chest and drew her upright. His back pressed against hers, he twisted a nipple sharply with his fingers. But Chrissy was so excited that, instead of pain, a jolt of pleasure shot through her.

“I am fucking you,” he husked in her ear. “I fucking own you. And you’ll come when I say you will.”

Saks’ dirty words drove her nearly over the edge. She focused on the gathering storm in her core, the heat of him filling her with his cock and how each thrust stoked the fire in her. His chest against her back sparked electricity through her spine. Her body tensed. This was it. She was close.

Saks seemed to know.

“Come with me,” he rasped. “Come, now!”

As if he willed her orgasm, she broke apart as his cock slammed into her.

Tags: Lexy Timms Beating the Biker Romance
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