Page 29 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

When Kane pulls back with a satisfied smirk on his face, I’m still reeling, and every inch of me is still on fire. I feel like one touch will send me over the edge again.

“Holy shit!” I pant, pulling him in for a kiss, not minding the taste of me on his tongue; it gives me a possessive thrill.

He waits for me to decide what to do now. I know that, despite his clear arousal, he would stop now if I said so. Which only makes me want him more. I reach out to stroke his throbbing cock, a dark patch of precum on the red boxers, pulling it free to admire it in all its glory. It’s even bigger than the photo shows, and I worry for a second about whether I can take it.

“We don’t have to—”

I silence him with kisses. “Fuck me,” I purr.

His eyes darken, and I see another flash of that dangerous edge. He pulls me onto his lap, sitting with his back against the couch. I feel simultaneously exposed and in control like this. He kisses me passionately as I guide his tip to the edge of my slit. I grind my hips along the length of it, and the hardness against my clit almost makes me cum again.

“Holy shit,” he growls, gripping my hips tighter.

I’m so wet and ready that there’s no pain, just a tight, widening sensation as my pussy expands to accommodate him. I slowly take him, inch by inch, sliding down until his cock fills me, pressing against my G-spot and making me feel like I could cum without even moving.

“Fuck, you feel as good as you taste,” he groans, pulling me close so there’s no space between us, my breasts squashed against his chest, as he kisses me deeply.

His hands grip my ass, and he slowly lifts me up and down, sliding in and out of me. It feels unbelievable, and I grow ever wetter.

“Oh my God, Kane,” I moan.

“Sadie,” he groans, sounding like I belong to him.

He fucks me harder and faster, and I grind my hips, throwing my head back as he licks and sucks my nipples while he fucks me. I lose track of time, focused only on the pleasure, but all too soon, another orgasm rises within me, and I know that I won’t last much longer.

“I’m so close, cum with me,” I tell him, kissing him again.

Somehow, even though the sex is wild, passionate, feral, I still feel connected to him in a way I can’t describe, as if our bodies are perfectly in tune. He cries out my name as we reach our mutual climax. My body shudders and shakes as the orgasm continues to ripple through me, wave after wave, until finally, I’m spent. He holds me close, kissing me softly as we pant, sweaty limbs intertwined.

“Wow,” I pant, laughing giddily.

“Wow, indeed,” he says back, kissing me again.

I thought things would be awkward once the rush of passion faded, but I was wrong. I feel like I can finally breathe again. It’s the first time in years I’ve felt wanted, desired, the first time I’ve felt something real in a long time. It’s the first time in years that intimacy doesn’t feel forced or empty. It was as natural as breathing. I barely know this man, yet I feel like he knows me better than anyone else. The conversations we’ve had have propelled us past the initial awkward getting-to-know-you parts into something else entirely.

Kane is exactly the kind of guy your parents warn you about: dangerous, impulsive, wild, yet, despite every warning telling me to run the other way, my instinct only draws me closer.

Chapter 8

Trigger

Sex with Sadie is beyond even my wildest imaginings, incredible. I can’t quite believe it happened. After that first, frenzied time, we move upstairs to Sadie’s bedroom and have sex again, slower, but no less passionate. Afterward, we lie in bed talking, the conversation flows as easily as it does over text. If she notices that the personality traits the other guys usually bring to the conversation are missing, she doesn’t mention it.

Dawn is breaking when she finally drifts off to sleep, her head resting on my chest. She apologetically mumbles something about me needing to leave before Owen wakes. I know I should go. She’s right, it would be confusing for Owen to find me still here. But I just want to watch her, to savor the moment and hold her for just a bit longer before I leave.

***

I groggily wake, confused, to the sounds of small, frustrated noises outside the bedroom door. The rattling of the handle, the scrabble of tiny fingers. A small, wheedling voice. “Mommy?”

My eyes snap open instantly. For half a second, I have no fucking idea where I am. The feel of her warm skin tangled with mine, reminds me that last night wasn’t a dream.

I turn to look at Sadie, the soft curve of her body illuminated by the morning light spilling through the pale curtains. Memories of last night flood me, her mouth against mine, legs wrapped around my waist, the sounds she made under me half the goddamn night. My cock twitches, ready for action again, a soldier standing to salute the sun.

The bedroom door rattles again. “Mommy?” Owen whines.

Shit.

Sadie jerks awake against my chest so suddenly her hair smacks me in the face. Panic flashes across her expression as she sits upright, tangled in blankets and sleep. “Oh, my God.”