Page 64 of The Biker and the Baker
He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it on the other bed. My belly coils with anticipation as I watch him shove up the long sleeves of his black thermal.
He’s mine. Yes,him. That sexy ass bastard right there. Don’t believe me? Ask him. He’ll tell you what he told me. That he ismine. All mine.
From the vanity, he picks up one of the small bottles. Massage oil. Eyes on mine, he’s slow and deliberate as he pours oil all over my body. I’m naked and horny and desperate for his touch, and he’s starving me on purpose.
When he finally touches me, I can’t help whimpering like a cat. His hands glide smoothly over my skin, soft and caressing. And after a full minute of teasing, he begins massaging me for real. Like apro. Squeezing, kneading, and applying the right amount of pressure in all the right places. He’s good. Real good.
But that’s not what I want and he knows it. My trembling legs are splayed and I’m dripping, my sex begging for attention. I’m a bitch in heat.
“Please,” I whisper.
He frowns as if bewildered, but I know it’s fake. “Please, what, Miss Saxena?”
“I-I want thecompletepackage.”
“Now, now, you know we can’t break the rules,” he says, massaging my upper thigh. So, so close to my quivering center. “It’s Wednesday. Acleanday. No naughty business allowed.”
Oh, so he wants to play…
“Please?” I beg, slow and sultry. “Just this once? I won’t tell.”
“You’re tryna get me fired, Miss Saxena.”
“You won’t, I promise. It’ll be our little secret.” I bite my lip and shift my legs wider apart. “I tipreallywell.”
“If I do this for you…put my job on the line…” He inches further up my thigh. “You’ll have to do something for me, too. Somethingmorethan a big tip.”
I look to the bulge in his jeans and wet my lips. “Anything—”Two fingers are inside me before I can finish. “Oh God, yes. Yes.”
As his fingers glide in and out, I spread my legs even wider. Rotate my hips. Buck up my pelvis.
His nostrils flare with desire as he gazes down at me writhing under the spell of his touch.
“I want you,” I gasp out, “in my mouth.”
“Fuckin’ A,” he curses under his breath.
Still working me over with his fingers, he sidles up the side of the bed until his bulging hard-on that’s wrestling against the zipper of his jeans is in line with my face.
Overcome with sweet, sweet pleasure, I make quick work of undoing his belt buckle and zipper, freeing him. His cock springs out, red and hard, as if pissed the hell off at being strained inside those pants for so long.
I rub my hands down my stomach to get them all oily and slippery, then I double-fist him, twisting each clenched hand in opposite directions as I stroke him.
His groan is deep, lengthy, and loaded with pleasure. “Fuck,P.”
As if to get back at me, he curls his fingers inside me, hitting that sweet, delicious spot, and my hips shoot up off the bed, pleasure jolting through me like a lightning bolt.
In retaliation, I shift onto my side and take him in my mouth. All of him.
“Ahhhhhfffffff,” he breathes out, long and shaky.
And then the battle begins. It’s tit for tat as he fingers meoh so goodwhile I blow his brains out. We’re both consumed, both on a high we don’t want to climb down from.
Until his cock starts getting more and more rigid in my fists, a telltale sign that he’s close. His movements are quick when he jerks out of my grasp and dives his head down between my thighs. Rabidly, he licks and sucks on my clit until I’m arched up off the bed and spasming at the height of my orgasm.
I’ve barely faded back to consciousness when he pulls me up and positions me at the edge of the bed.
Still on cloud nine, I’m too lax, hazy, and sated to participate, so he slides both of his strong arms under my legs, throws them over his shoulder, then enters me with one long,hardthrust.
