Page 43 of Baby for the Bikers

I reach up and grab her tits, squeezing them roughly, watching them bounce with every thrust. Then I raise my hand and slap one nipple.

She gasps, back arching, her walls clenching down so fucking tight it nearly makes me explode right then and there.

I do it again. Another sharp slap to the other nipple, watching the way her body jerks, her lips parting in a strangled cry.

“You like that?” I growl, rolling her punished nipple between my fingers, rubbing the sting in.

She whimpers, nodding frantically.

“Say it.” I slap her nipple again, harder this time.

“Fuck—yes,” she gasps. “I love it—I fucking love it.”

I grin, fucking her harder, deeper, wrecking her completely.

Her hands fly to my shoulders, gripping tight, her body shaking apart beneath me. I grab her throat, my fingers tightening just enough to make her feel it. Just enough to make her even wetter.

Her moans grow higher, desperate, her thighs trembling, her pussy tightening around me like a fucking clamp.

“You gonna come?” I murmur, dragging my thumb over her clit, rubbing rough, fast circles.

“Y-yes,” she chokes out, voice wrecked.

I slap her nipple one last time.

And she shatters.

Her body seizes up, her pussy clamping down around me, milking my cock so fucking tight I can barely breathe. Shescreams my name, legs shaking violently, her orgasm crashing through her.

I fuck her through it, every thrust pushing her deeper into pleasure, dragging it out until she’s a twitching, gasping, moaning mess.

And then I lose control.

With a deep, guttural growl, I thrust one last time, burying myself so fucking deep as I explode inside her, my cock pulsing, filling her completely.

The pleasure is blinding.

White-hot. Mind-numbing.

I grip her hips tight enough to bruise, my entire body locking up as I come so hard it steals my fucking breath.

When I finally release her, her chest rises and falls in shaky, uneven breaths.

I press my forehead against hers, both of us wrecked.

Her hand slides to my jaw, fingers trembling.

“Okay,” she pants, a fucked-out smile curling her lips. “Maybe you were right.”

I raise an eyebrow, still struggling to catch my breath.

She laughs softly, voice completely ruined.

“I can handle you,” she whispers, her eyes dark and body still twitching from aftershocks. “But fuck, Ryder…you handle me right back.”

I smirk.

And I kiss her.

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