Making of Them (Beating the Biker 3)

“I love these,” he said. “Perfect size. And shape.”

His fingers sought and found her stiffening nipples, and she bit the inside of her lip to keep from making a noise.

“You like that,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“I like it, too. How your body responds to my hands. I love how your body quivers when I stroke it. You’re the sexiest thing alive. You know that, right?”

“No,” she said.

“Well, you are. I bet you’re wet right now, sopping wet.”

She made a little noise, because right now she felt like she swam in her own juices.

“Let me see,” Saks said. He pushed her skirt to her hips.

“What?” she said.

Saks dropped to his knees and kissed her thighs.

“Shh,” he said. Gently, he pushed her legs apart—widening her stance. Saks kissed and licked her upper thighs, first one, then another, and then pressed his lips to the juncture between her legs.

“Yeah, baby,” he said. “I can taste it even through your stockings. But they’re getting in the way.”

Chrissy put her hands to the stockings and pulled them down. She looked down at him. “How’s that?” she breathed, unable to manage much more.

“Beautiful. But I think we can do better.” Saks pulled her stockings to her ankles, then stopped, leaving them stretched between her legs.

Chrissy blinked in heated confusion. “Aren’t you going to take them off?”

CHAPTER TEN

Saks stared at the image of the lacy piece of cloth that barely covered her delicate flesh, and then the black stockings stretched between her ankles. His heart raced in his chest and his cock throbbed in his jeans. She was fucking gorgeous, and the sight of her legs spread open for him had him thinking wicked, dirty things.

“No,” he purred, “I like you like this. You’re a feast spread out just for me and I’m going to eat.”

Saks licked one long line up her smooth leg and did the same to the other. But this time when he reached the juncture of her bottom and her thigh he nipped the tender skin, and lapped it and nibbled again, earning a moan from Chrissy.

The sound of her moan was enough to send Saks into overdrive as a rumble emanated from deep within his throat. Grabbing hold of her hips, he buried his face between her legs and wondered how he’d gone for so long without the sweet taste of her. With the tip of his tongue, he pushed her panties aside and tasted her wet heat. She was sopping, as if she’d melted from the inside right onto his tongue. He flicked, lapped, and teased her pink fold until she was squirming on his face, her soft moans driving him wild.

Saks grabbed her hips and thrust his tongue into her creamy center.

“Ah! Oh, good Lord,” she panted. “Saks. Please.”

He pulled away and she whimpered. “Please what, darling? I’ll give you anything you want.”

“You,” she gasped. “I want you.”

Saks’ cock, pressed against the zipper of his jeans, threatened to burst through the fabric. He wanted her. More than that, he needed her. But there was one problem. “Sweetheart, I don’t have any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” she gasped.

“What? When did this happen?” He didn’t know why it shocked him so much.

“Long before I met you. I got them for acne as a teen, and never stopped.”

“Well, thank the saints for acne,” he said as he tore at his button and then his zipper. The sound of the tab rolling down the metal tore through the silent room, and Chrissy shivered.