Biker Chic

by Devyn Quinn

  Leaning forward, his lips trailed down her neck, kissing here and nibbling there. Going lower, he nuzzled a nipple briefly, then kissed the valley between her breasts, letting her flesh absorb the sensations of his touch. Hand easing between her legs, he slowly pressed the tips of his finger into her softness. He circled her most sensitive flesh, teasing her.

  Melanie gasped and pushed back. A little whimper escaped her throat. Anything to ease the aching need inside.

  Jake entered her with two fingers, slipping in and out as his thumb stroked her clit. His free hand went to the front of his pants, undoing the button at his waist and bringing his zipper down. His cock surged free, the head purple and swollen. He stroked himself even as he pleasured her.

  Melanie opened her eyes and glanced down. It was an incredibly sexual sight to see—one of his hands between her legs, even as he was stroking his penis. Her grip on the handlebars tightened.

  “Oh, God, Jake,” she gasped. “I’m about to come again.”

  “Not yet, baby.” Hands moving to her hips, he pushed forward, impaling her.

  She heard him moan, felt the warmth of his hands on her thighs, felt the deliciously wanton friction of his skin against hers.

  Jake held her hips, moving his in a slow back-and-forth motion. “You’re so tight.” He pumped harder. “Like taking a virgin.”

  Supporting her weight on the handlebars, Melanie braced her feet against the footrests. She ground her hips against his, her every downward motion meeting his powerful upward one, each becoming harder and more intense. A low moan slipped through her lips when she tossed her head back and closed her eyes. She felt so free, so wild, so naturally female. Her body tensed, feeling the waves of sheer gratification wash over her.

  Her pussy started to ripple around his cock, and she knew his own release was close. She felt Jake’s nails dig into her thighs as his whole body shook, a deep primal grunt rising up in his throat. Cock pulsing, his body tensed, trembling when he released his seed deep inside her.

  Time seemed to cease. There was only the sky, the desert, and two people enjoying the primitive act of joining their bodies in a satisfying physical union.

  Chapter Eleven

  Back at the motel, Melanie reluctantly climbed off the huge motorcycle. Head spinning, body sated but hardly satisfied, she wasn’t ready for their time together to end. But like Cinderella attending the ball, the midnight hour had struck, and the party had come to its end. Unlike Cinderella, her coach was a beat-up motorcycle.

  Jake accompanied her to her room. There was hardly any danger she would be attacked. The town rolled up the sidewalks at sundown. A coyote howled in the distance, a reminder the desert was still as wild and untamed as the man striding beside her.

  Finding her room key, Melanie’s hands shook as she tried to slide it into the lock. She couldn’t believe she’d just had incredible sex with a complete stranger. This was the only one-night stand she’d ever had in her life.

  Jake plucked the key from her hand. He opened the door with the air of a man who’d opened a thousand others just like it. “Returned safe and sound.” He smiled, a lazy grin penetrating straight to the center of her core.

  She suppressed a frown. How many hotel rooms had he stayed in before, and how many other women had welcomed him into their arms? Would there be another tomorrow, another lonely, confused woman eager to sate her carnal appetites with the burly biker?

  It was inevitable Jake would go on down the road. That was his way, what he’d always done. She doubted he ever bothered looking back. Still, Melanie wasn’t ready to let him go. The night wasn’t over.

  She slipped over the threshold, unsure of what she wanted to say, or do, next. She wanted him again, but couldn’t spit out the words.

  He tossed her the key. “I guess this is where we say goodnight.”

  Melanie caught it. Feigning nonchalance, she licked dry lips. Jake’s big body filled the doorway. He placed his hands on either side, bracketing the doorway. Framed by the halo of the light outside, he stood like a lion hovering over freshly killed prey. Anyone who didn’t know him would think him a dangerous man.

  The motorcycle, the tattoos, fierce weatherbeaten face, Jake Marrs was a man who belonged to the road. He wasn’t the kind to be tamed by the idea of home and hearth. He craved the freedom of the open highway, no strings attached. In another moment he’d be gone, disappearing like a mirage swallowed by shifting desert sands, nothing more than an ache between her thighs.

  “Stay.” The word slipped past her lips before she even thought to say it. Her voice was low, husky with sated desire—and hinting she’d welcome more of the same.

  He gave her a long, hard look. “That really what you want?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  Jake lifted an eyebrow. “How long?”

  Melanie wanted to say forever. She twirled the key around her finger. “It’s mine ‘til eleven tomorrow morning.” She cocked her head toward the bed. “Let’s give them a reason to change those sheets.”

  “You know I’m not the kind of man to hang around?”

  She swallowed the limp in her throat. She felt a twinge go all the way from crotch to toes when she looked up at him and knew what her answer had to be. A twinge of pain ripped through her heart, but she refused to let it deter her. Of course, she understood. He had his way of life, and she’d hers. She did not, could not, say the words she wanted.

  “No strings.”

  A slow lazy grin spilt his fine lips. “I think I could be persuaded to hang around.”

  She gulped, trembling. “How?”

  “Like this.”

  Jake’s big paw of a hand swept out, catching her under the chin. Tilting back her head, he bent, slow and certain in his control. His mouth covered hers, the beginning of a kiss long and deep. Melanie knew then this wasn’t going to be just any one-night stand. The fierceness of his kiss said he was tired of those long lonely stretches of asphalt, of the dangerous outlaw life. He was willing to be persuaded.

  And she was determined to be the woman who did the job.

  Their lips had barely parted before Jake slipped his hands down to her waist and pulled her against him. Like a cat, he started rubbing sinuously against her to increase the sensations, grinding his hips against hers.

  His gaze ranged over her face. “I’m not used to hanging around,” he confessed.

  She offered her lips again. When his mouth settled on hers, she closed her eyes. Her whole body was longing to melt into his, but he was tormenting her, savoring the taste and feel of her as though his only purpose were to pleasure her.

  “Maybe you could get used to it,” she murmured when he pulled away.

  “Maybe.” He lifted his tight T-shirt over his head, revealing his tattoos in all their glory. Each was as unique and individual as the man who wore them, and she couldn’t imagine him without them. It had taken a lot of time—and pain—to get them inked into his flesh. She wondered if he regretted them, or wished he’d done things differently. She pushed the thought away.

  Right now they were exactly who they were supposed to be, exactly where fate had placed them. She wasn’t an insecure divorcee, and he wasn’t a worthless road rat. They were two people who desired each other and decided to take advantage of the fact. Whether it was right or wrong, she didn’t care. She was going to seize the moment and enjoy it.

  Lifting her off her feet, Jake kicked the door shut behind them. Two steps, and they tumbled to the bed. His body covered hers. She felt the tough denim of his jeans chafe the tender flesh between her thighs. Her cry of delight was silenced by the crush of his lips, the sweep of his tongue conquering hers.

  Melanie ran her palms over his hard back, relishing anew the sinewy muscle beneath her hands. Jake had the body of a man who fought and fucked with equal passion.

  He groaned. He shifted his hips so she could feel his erection straining for freedom against his tight jeans. Liquid heat pooled inside her, trickling between her t
highs. The crotch of her panties was wet with her juices, her neediness.

  Melanie whimpered. Somehow she found the strength to separate their lips.

  He laughed. “Too late to change your mind, honey.” His voice was gravel on silk.

  “Not a chance.” Breath rasping in shallow pants, her moistness increased. “I just want you out of those clothes.”

  “You do, eh?” Jake moved a hand between their bodies. He cupped her mound through her panties, rubbing her clit up and down with his middle finger.

  Melanie released a slow agonized groan. The labia around her slit were literally pulsing in time with the soft rhythm of his strokes. She relished the primal throb even as she wanted the ache to ease. Most of all, she never wanted it to end.

  “Slow down, babe. We’ll get there.” Stretching out beside her, Jake propped himself up on an elbow. Whereas she wanted to doff the duds and do the deed, it was clear he wanted to take things slower, draw out the agony.

  Gaze never leaving hers, he plucked apart the knot at her belly. When it was undone, he started to undo each button. The fine white fabric did little to conceal the duskiness of her pink nipples, swollen and hard, aching for the relief of his lips. With a knowing smile, he inched the material off her left breast, exposing a pink tip.

  Her gut clenched in anticipation. He surprised her by tracing her lips with one finger, slipping it inside her mouth. “Suck it.”

  Melanie sucked, wrapping her tongue around his firm index finger. Later she hoped to be wrapping her lips around something larger.

  Jake drew his finger away. He brushed the wet tip over the tight peak he’d exposed, tracing a moist path on the aureole. The sensation of wet against her dry skin was spellbinding. She felt the pull of lust straight down to her toes.

  He dipped his head for a taste, sucking the hard bead into his mouth. He flicked and teased the tip until she slid her hands into his long hair. “Oh, God, I’m dying to come.” She guided his lips to her right nipple. “Do the other one. Harder.”

  Jake complied, tracing the tip. When she moaned and closed her eyes, he nipped, bringing her eyes back open. She giggled as he soothed away the brief ache with more long, hard licks. “I never know what’s next.”

  “You’ll find out.” He bit again then rolled the turgid tip between thumb and forefinger. Rolling over, he reached for the ice bucket she’d placed on the bed table. Most of the ice had melted hours ago, but a few cubes still floated in the chilly water. That was exactly what he wanted. Plucking a piece out, he rubbed it over her nipples, making them even harder, more sensitive to his touch. The ice vanished, trickling over her skin, down her belly and into the top of her skirt.

  She felt familiar tension hardening her muscles, caught the familiar small sound she made in the back of her throat when she was aroused.

  “Does that feel good, Melanie?” He dipped his head for another taste. His tongue teased the bead-hard tip, bringing a welcome warmth to chase away the chill.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Right now I'm thinking about pushing that tight skirt up and bending you over this bed. When your bare ass is sticking out, I can't help but think how much you’d like me to give it a couple of hard swats.”

  She gave a nervous laugh. Domination wasn’t exactly her thing, but the idea was more than a little intriguing. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  Jake’s hands moved over her flat belly, giving her a little tummy rub before he expertly turned her over onto her stomach. Pulling her to her knees, he pushed her skirt up around her hips, sticking his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and tugging them down.

  Melanie closed her eyes, relishing the arrival of his mouth. To her surprise, the flat of his hand came down right across her exposed flesh.

  The pain was sharp and absolutely shocking, increasing her excitement tenfold. She could imagine the print of his hand outlined on her bare butt, and that turned her on even more. Absolutely vanilla in her sex life with her ex-husband, she was now eager to explore sexual kinks she’d formerly rebuffed. Somehow she hadn’t trusted Phil. He was too eager to be cruel. She had the feeling Jake wouldn’t hurt her.

  It was a leap of faith to trust a stranger. She trusted him and leapt.

  He smacked her rear again. “You like being a bad girl?”

  Melanie bit her lip. “Yes,” she threw out in a mock challenge. “Break me if you dare.”

  A slow smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “You’re just dying for me to fuck you again.” He gave her another smack across the ass.

  She shivered. The addition of pain with her pleasure was a cloying mix. She wasn’t sure if she liked such sexual play or not. Before she could decide, Jake’s probing finger moved between her nether lips. He was touching her with hands that knew a woman’s body, and she had no defense against that. Her desire was as much of a bond, as much so as if he had tied her spread-eagled to the bed. Her clit was swollen and moist. She had to control herself from coming right on the spot when he probed her depths.

  Delicious shivers shimmied up her spine. She choked down a giggle. “Yes.”

  “Like this?”

  Jake’s hand disappeared. When it returned, she felt a sliver of ice pressing against her clit. The sensation of cold colliding with her own steam nearly sent her through the ceiling. She’d never imagined ice could be used in such an imaginative and erotic way. Mingling with her own juices, the ice melted, tricking down the inside of her thighs.

  Melanie gasped, a long primal sound escaping from deep within her throat. “That feels so good!” Warm sensations worked their way outward from the center of her groin, shimmering through her body like waves lapping against a tropical beach. Moving her hips in a slow motion, she started to rock against Jake's wet hand. She felt her pussy contract when he spread her wide and slipped a second piece inside her.

  Body shuddering, Melanie’s fingers dug into the bedspread. All at once, Jake thrust two fingers inside her. She cried out, moaned as her cunt clenched his digits and held them. The hot and cold inside her was a serious turn on.

  He paused, treating her to a sexy grin. “I love to hear you whimper.”

  “Damn you, Jake,” she shot between clenched teeth. He’d ignited a fierce lust inside her, and she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she felt his cock ramming into her. As his fingers probed her deeper, faster, she started moving her hips, the beginning of a slow finger-fuck session. Placing his thumb against her pulsing clit, he pressed into her one more time, causing her to cry out as an orgasm crashed through her body. The wave crested, and then eased.

  Fighting for breath, she threw a glance over her shoulder. “I want to be taken—and not by fingers.”

  Ready to oblige, Jake positioned his body between her spread legs. His work calloused hands clasped her hips, holding her in a grip she could not have escaped if she wanted to. He lifted her higher, grabbing her thighs and raising her up so her knees barely touched the mattress. He massaged her ass cheeks with both thumbs, spreading her open to reveal her anus.

  Memories of her rape at her husband’s hands tumbled to the forefront of her mind. Surely he didn’t intend to take her anally...as Phil had.

  Melanie recognized his intent. Suddenly she wasn’t so brave anymore. Blind panic gripped her, lungs pulling in short, wild gasps of air. Body quivering, she hung in his grasp, waiting...praying he didn’t mean to penetrate her up the rear. She didn’t think she could take it. Not again.

  “No.” Her cry ended in a whimper. She wasn’t into the game now. “Not that way.”

  He froze. Lowering her back to the bed, she felt the palm of his hand going up and down her back, rubbing a slow gentle path, as one would to gentle a skittish horse. He slid a hand around her waist, down her belly. His fingertip located her clit, applying a gentle but firmly placed pressure. She gasped fiercely, whimpering when he changed the direction of probing massage, manipulating his index finger over the little organ. The constriction in her chest e
ased. Each stroke took her closer to the edge of orgasm. She hovered, weightless and breathless, ready to peak.

  “Easy, baby,” she heard him say. “Relax. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

  Though it was almost impossible, Melanie forced her body to go limp, pliant. She could stop this now by saying no. She doubted he would force her. But she didn’t want to stop. She wanted him to fill her again, wanted their bodies to come back together.

  She clenched her eyes shut. The desire for completion was so deeply entrenched in her gut it was all of a sudden a part of her being, her very soul. A bond would be created when he finally entered her. Trust. She’d to give him that, wholly and without question. Without fear.

  “Don’t stop.”

  Jake rolled her over. He came down on top of her, arms bracketing her body, supporting his weight. Their bodies fit together perfectly. The swell of his erection pressed against her mound, separated only by his jeans.

  “Look into my eyes.”

  She met his gaze. His eyes showed every emotion he felt, and Melanie knew then he was a man on fire with true passion. She saw a need so raw and so deep she was swept away by it. Words failed her, but emotion did not. Beneath the rough edges was a gentle man concerned with the feelings of his partner. She was glad she’d opened her mind to letting Jake spend a whole night.

  “You know I won’t hurt you.” He planted a kiss on her upturned nose. He brushed his mouth over her lips, the beginning of a gentle kiss. The renewed desire to reclaim her life—and Jake—surged her. She sighed and swept her tongue out to meet his.

  “I know.”

  “I want you to enjoy this.”

  She swallowed a moan. “I—I want to.”

  Jake shifted his body, going lower. He ran his tongue in a circle around a taut nipple, flicking the hard tip. Her hips jerked upward in an involuntary response, teasing his straining erection and testing his sense of restraint. Her inhibitions fled as if they’d never existed. “I want you inside me.”