Page 17 of The Biker's Captive
My fingers keep moving over his chest. I lift up his T shirt and trace the scars on his body.
“Are these from Afghanistan?”
He nods quietly. I want to ask what happened, but I don't want him to relive it. Maybe one day he'll tell me. But for now, I trace the puckered skin.
“I believe in the good inside of you, Pans. I believe in you.”
My ankle’s been throbbing and now I sink to my knees, relieving the pain.
My lips close over the puckered skin on Pans’s body, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
His hands reach for mine, stopping them.
"What are you doing?"
I look up, meeting his gaze levelly.
"I believe you're a good man. You’ve had some shitty experiences, and now I want to give you a little tenderness.”
My lips dip to the hollow of skin above his jeans. Slowly, he releases my hands and I slide them down, between the bars to his belt buckle.
8
PANS
Willow's breath on my skin is like a scorching wind burning up my body. I feel it coursing through my blood, heating my veins and uncoiling the beast within. She doesn't know that she's playing with fire. I should stop her, but when I look down at her wide eyes and pouty lips, I don't want to
I used to be a decent man. I was a naive boy once who signed up for the military thinking he could save lives and make a difference. If there’s any part of that young man left in me, he’s buried too deep.
I should stop her. She's a virgin, for all I know. She's innocent. A decent man would stop her, but I’m no longer a decent man.
There'll be no going back from this with Willow.
I don't want to go back,my heart whispers.
I want this. My very soul wants this as much as the dark beast inside of me does.
So I watch and do nothing as she unbuckles my belt. I watch as her hands slide my jeans down and then my boxers. I watch as her hand runs up my thighs, making the hair stand on end with the heat.
I grab hold of the bars, because I’m a sick, twisted individual and the fact that we’re separated by bars turns me on even more.
Willow’s lips press gently against the end of my cock, and that jolts me back to reality. I take a step back; I can’t let her do this. But Willow grabs me firmly, her hands on top of mine making my fingers dig into the cool metal.
“Stay," she pleads, and the need in her eyes is almost too much.
“You have no idea what you're unleashing. If I claim you, if I claim your mouth, then you are mine. Do you understand?”
“I want to be yours, Pans." Her fingertips brush my balls, and a nail scrapes along my skin.
God help me. My hips press toward her, my aching cock prodding through the bars of the cage. I’m thick with need, a vein throbbing as my cock aches for her lips.
She purses those beautiful pouty lips together and presses them to the end of my cock. The gentle kiss sets my nerves on edge. I’m ready to squirt my load, and all she's done is press her mouth to my tip.
That gentleness is my undoing. The way she kisses my cock with a tenderness that I’ve never experienced makes my chest ache even as my cock slaps against her chin, wanting more.
Her lips wrap around my shaft, and her tongue snakes out. It’s clumsy and messy and like nothing I've experienced.
"Is this your first time, precious?” She pops my cock out of her mouth, and I feel the loss of her.
