Making of Them (Beating the Biker 3)

“So,” she said roughly as Saks gave a few more shallow thrusts that made him bite back a groan, “you’ll fuck me if I agree to marry you?”

“No. I’ll make love to you, today, every day and night you’ll let me. Because I can’t imagine another day without you in my life. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

And, Lord, he meant those words. Whatever it would take to make this woman his he’d do. Saks has never felt so open and vulnerable in his entire life, and time seemed to stretch into infinity and his heart stopped beating while he waited for her answer.

“Okay,” she said in a small voice.

“What?”

“Make love to me, Saks, today and every day of my life.”

Saks stepped back and lifted her, flipping her to face him. With a wicked grin on his face he bobbed his head and then his body between her legs. Saks lifted her once more with his arms to sit her on the edge of the table.

“Put your arms around me, baby,” he said.

Chrissy hooked her hands around his neck and, taking his cock in hand once more, he found her entrance. He slid in, watching her expression. Her eyes closed as she gasped.

He moaned. Her walls clenched around him in heat, wetness, and softness.

The woman felt like pure heaven.

Her legs pulled his hips into her, leaving him beyond rational thought. Her face shone under the lights of the alcove, and she panted as if waiting.

“Baby,” she said, “I need you.”

“Yes,” he moaned. Saks bucked into her, his mind racing with this thought of never stopping this, of grinding inside her, searing the essence of his soul into hers.

He pressed harder into her. Her entrance quaked around him, her body’s response encouraging him to thrust harder. She clutched his neck tighter, uttering a silky whine of need that short-circuited the parts of his brain that told him to be gentle.

“Harder,” she groaned.

He rammed into her as his cock screamed with the need to take this woman, his woman, as hard as he could. She cried out and he did again, and again, and his stomach clenched, and his balls pulled up, announcing the inevitable.

A hiss of a breath pushed out between his gritted teeth as he drove into her with an animalistic fierceness. Her walls clamped down around him, and in his arms she broke apart, while her screams muffled against his shoulder. “I love you!” she cried.

And he was right there with her as his orgasm slammed into him, whiting out his vision. It receded, leaving him a shaky mess.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Chrissy awoke groggil

y in sheets that didn’t feel like the 600-thread count sheets she had grown accustomed to. She turned and curled around a pillow that smelled like Saks as she tried to ignore the aches that filled her body. They weren’t bad pains, but pleasant, trying to remind her of—what?

The aroma of brewing coffee surrounded her, teasing her nose.

Noises, the sound of coffee tinkling into a cup, glazed ceramic clinking together, a refrigerator opening and closing, vied for her attention.

Her eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar room. She scrunched her eyes against sunlight streaming in through a window above, and propped herself up on her elbows.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Saks greeted, wearing an irrepressible grin. “I’m sorry I don’t have much for breakfast, but it’s early enough we can go to the diner down the road.”

“How early is it?” she croaked.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her purse on the nightstand, and she grabbed it and pulled out her phone. It confirmed his next words.

Six freaking AM? She checked her emails and her messages. There were a few texts from Gloria, the last one saying, “Have a good time. Wink.” But curiously there were none from Jessica, which was odd. Chrissy was twenty-four hours out from contact with Pearson and Jessica, and she was sure she’d hear something from either one of them.

That there was radio silence worried her.