Page 59 of Kick

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it makes me,” I say, and it’s more than just my cock that’s frustrated. “I don’t know what you want from me, Indie?”

“I don’t know either,” she admits. “I’ve told myself over and over you were a means to an end, but now I don’t know how I feel. I want you to touch me. I want your hands on me. And I’m pretty sure you want that too, or I was before—”

“I can’t be what you need, baby. I’m so fucked up there aren’t even words for the shit I see in my head. All the things I wanna do to you? They’re not normal. I don’t do vanilla; I don’t make love. I fuck. And I fuck hard. And I can’t do that with you. I don’t know how to be any other way.”

I don’t know what someone like me can offer her. I don’t know if I can offer her anything but a life of disappointment and danger. It certainly hasn’t been smooth fuckin’ sailing so far, and shit’s only gonna get worse. If she’s in my bed, on the back of my bike and wearing my patch, she’s a target for anyone who wants to get to me.

“Can I ask you something?” She interrupts my thoughts. “What were you thinking when he put that gun to my head?”

“I was thinking I couldn’t be the reason you died. I promised to protect you; I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want your blood on my hands, too.”

“Too?”

Jesus. This bitch and her questions. I wish I could shove my cock in her mouth and get her to shut the fuck up. “I’ve been here before, and it didn’t end well for her. She died; a brutal and bloody death, the same kind you woulda had if you’d been left in that warehouse.”

She reaches out and touches my hair. I glance up at her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her gently into me. I kiss her stomach, the flesh over her hip. She’s been steadily putting on weight since we pulled her from that warehouse, and she looks fucking amazing. Plump arse, fuller tits, her arms now contain a little muscle, and even that is hot as fuck too. I pull her down onto my lap, spreading her legs apart and shoving her pelvis down against my cock, groaning when her pussy slides over my piercing and the head of my dick. And then I kiss her mouth the way I wanted to earlier tonight. I take her hard with my mouth because I can’t with my body.

When she breaks away she’s panting for breath. “I want you inside me, Biker.”

“You can’t say that shit to me, Indie,” I groan. “I’m not a man with self-control. I take whatever the fuck I want, when I want it, and I want you so fucking bad I feel like I might explode, but I don’t trust myself not to hurt you.”

“I trust you.”

“Fuuuck,” I growl and then grab my dick, positioning it at the entrance of her sweet pussy. Later I’ll take my time exploring what makes her wet, what she likes, what she doesn’t. I plan on getting real fucking friendly with that gorgeous cunt, but for now I have to bring us together. I have to bury myself deep, and feel her clench around me as she rides me hard.

She reaches between us and takes hold of my cock, sliding it back and forth through her wetness. She toys with the piercing, touching it with gentle strokes, and then she’s pumping me hard and fast with her soft hands. It feels fuckin’ amazing. She guides me inside her body, gasping as she stretches to accommodate me, and I feel as if I’m gonna explode. The sweet, slow burn, the drag and slide of flesh, her walls squeezing me tightly. It’s fuckin’ killing me. Slowly.

“So fuckin’ tight,” I murmur in her ear. I let her control the pace, and my hands roam over her tits and down her back to cup her arse. She rocks her hips back and forward, sliding her sweet cunt up and down my shaft. Her face is soft with pleasure, but I want to own that look. I could be anyone filling this void for her, making her forget all the things those men had done in the past. I grab a fistful of hair and force her eyes on me.

“Look at me.” Her heated gaze locks onto mine. I challenge her, a little game we’ve come to love. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you. I want you to remember who owns you.”

“No one owns me.”

“I own you. You belong to me. You let another man near that pussy of yours and I’ll gut him like a fuckin’ fish while you watch. You gonna ride on the back of my bike? Be in my bed? Then I own you, Spitfire. You’re mine, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

“Jeez, Biker, you really know how to ruin the mood,” she whispers, but the bitch is still riding me hard, so I know she’s not as put off by that as she says she is.

“I take what’s mine, and I take care of mine. Are you mine, Indie?”

She moans and closes her eyes, tilting her head up toward the ceiling.

“Look at me,” I command, wrapping my hand around the nape of her neck. “Are you mine?”

“Yes. I’m yours.”

I exhale, and reward her by sliding a hand between us to toy with her clit. She bucks wildly on top of me, squirming away from my touch. I hold her still, digging my hand firmly into her hip.

“Stop, I can’t …” she breathes. “Not my clit.”

“I own this pussy, baby. I’m gonna make you cum, and you’re gonna milk me with your gorgeous fuckin’ snatch, and then you’re gonna cum again and again, until I say you can stop.”

“No.”

“Shh, let go,” I whisper in her ear and I pump my hips in time with her rocking. “Fuckin’ cum for me, baby.”

“Biker …” Her moans leave her in breathy pleas that I feel every-fucking-where. I feel her give a little, and I want more of it. I want all of her. I want every thought, every breath, every orgasm, and every fucking moan.

I shift both hands under her arse and stand, taking her with me and moving us under the water, then I slam her back against the glass and let it have her weight. I press my hands against the wall and glide in and out, taking her slow, and driving us both towards orgasm. I don’t think I’ve ever fucked like this. Not even with Lauren. I wasn’t lying when I told Indie I like to fuck, and fuck hard. But right now I care more about her pleasure than my own, which is another thing that I’ve never felt before. As I sink inside her again and again, I don’t care how long it takes. I just want her to feel something other than pain.

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