Page 25 of The Biker's Captive
Before the words are out of my mouth, Pans thrusts into me again, going hard and deep until his balls slap against me.
“Take it like a good girl, Willow.”
And I do. I take his cock and I rock my hips and I moan, wanting more and more and more of him.
Pleasure builds inside me, but I need some friction. My hand slides up my thigh, and I touch my hot spot. It’s sticky and I trace slow circles, my hand reaching around so my fingernails scrape his balls.
Every time he pitches forward, I pinch his balls, and I love the way it makes him groan.
We’re facing the window in the room and the light outside has faded, showing us our reflection in the glass. Pans pounds me from behind as I touch myself, our faces contorted with pleasure and urgency.
His eyes meet mine and he’s like a wild animal, a lion mounting its mate. His teeth are bared as he gets more frenzied, slamming into me with no mercy.
With his eyes on mine, he leans forward. His arm slides between my breasts, and his hand closes around my throat.
“You’re mine, Willow, all mine,” he grunts out as his fingers tighten on my skin. It should be terrifying, but it heightens the sensations claiming my body.
I keep eye contact as he pounds me like a rag doll, pulling me onto his cock time and time again.
My vision blurs and my pussy clenches and then I’m falling over the edge, my body convulsing in ecstasy, the orgasm so intense that I think I might pass out.
Pans gives a final thrust and then explodes inside of me, yelling out my name. He sits back and pulls me onto his thighs, making sure I capture every last drop of his cum.
Our eyes meet in the reflection of the window. We’re both panting, and there are red marks around my throat. Pans’s eyes go to them, and his expression changes.
“Willow, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Why didn’t you tap out?”
I run my hands over my throat and the raw marks that prove I belong to Pans. There's no mistaking he owns me, and God helped me I liked it. I liked it so much.
“Because I didn’t want you to stop.”
Pans turns me toward him, and we lay together on the bed. His fingers caress my neck, gentle now and soft.
I’m overwhelmed by the contrast, the rough lover and the gentle man.
“I can swallow your darkness, Pans; I can take it. But you know there are people who can help,” I say. “Have you ever done that?”
He shakes his head. “I don't think there's help for people like me.”
I let it drop, but I know there’s a way to help my troubled man. And maybe being by his side is all I need to do. And together maybe we'll heal.
“I love you, Pans.”
“I love you too, precious. I will always have this darkness inside of me. But with you by my side, it won’t overwhelm me.”
He kisses me gently and I lean into him, already feeling sleepy.
“My name is Simon.” It croaks out of his mouth, rusty from being unused.
“Simon,” I repeat. And then again more forcefully. “I love you, Simon.”
Simon smiles and I close my eyes, safe and happy in his embrace.
EPILOGUE
WILLOW
Two years later…
