Page 41 of Her Dirty Biker
“I’m yours, Daddy.”
He breaks. His pace stutters. Then he snarls and fucks me harder, hand slipping between us to circle my clit. “That’s right, sweet girl. All mine.”
Pleasure climbs again, sharper now. Blinding. I cling to him as he drives into me, faster, deeper.
“I love you,” I cry out, eyes locked on his.
“I love you, too, little fox. Always.”
We come together—loud and raw.
He stays inside me afterward, our bodies tangled, his forehead pressed to mine.
“I never knew it could feel like this,” I whisper later, curled against his chest, tracing lazy patterns over his skin.
“Like what?”
“Loved.”
His arms tighten. “You’re gonna feel loved for the rest of your life.”
I smile into his chest, finally understanding what it means to belong to someone.
Epilogue - Diesel
Epilogue
Diesel
The wind roars in my ears as I tear up the highway, Willow’s arms wrapped tight around me. Her thighs grip my hips, and I can feel the steady rhythm of her breath against my back—calm, safe, content.
The bike hums beneath us, slicing through the warm dusk air, the sun dipping low over the hills like it’s melting into the earth. It casts a golden haze over the two-lane stretch of road winding along the ridge. Out here, it’s nothing but pine trees, open sky, and peace.
We haven’t said much on this ride, and we don’t need to. There’s a language between us now. Quiet touches, shared glances, a soft kiss to my shoulder at a red light.
She’s my girl.
I take the turn slowly, leading us off the highway and down a gravel path that cuts through the trees. A clearing opens up atthe end, wide, sun-washed, private. The kind of place that feels like it was made for lovers who want to disappear for a while.
I kill the engine. Willow unwraps herself from me with a sigh, sliding off the bike like she’s floating. She pulls off the helmet and shakes out her hair, giving me a smile that hits me like a goddamn bullet every time.
“Where are we?” she asks, looking around. “This place is gorgeous.”
“Old picnic spot,” I say. “Used to ride up here when I needed to clear my head. Figured it was time I shared it.”
“With me?” she teases.
“Only with you.”
Her eyes soften. She walks toward the overlook, wind tugging at her sundress. The cotton hugs her hips and flutters around her thighs, tempting me.
“You look happy,” I say.
“I am happy,” she replies, stopping in front of me. She kisses me. I let it linger, my hand sliding down to her lower back, holding her against me.
I pull something from my pocket. It’s small—no box, no bow. Just a slim band of silver I’ve carried for months, waiting for the right moment.
This is it.
