Page 26 of My Veteran Biker

"You okay?"

"Don't stop."

He pushes in another inch and I feel my body resisting, trying to adjust to the intrusion.

It's been too long and he's too big and I have to consciously relax, force my muscles to let him in.

"That's it," he says, voice rough. "Take it. Take all of me."

He slides in deeper and I cry out, hands clutching at his shoulders.

The stretch borders on painful but there's something else underneath it, something that makes me arch up into him wanting more.

When he's fully seated we both go still.

He's buried so deep I can feel him everywhere, pressing against places that haven't been touched in over a year.

His forehead drops to mine and I can feel him shaking with the effort of holding back, can feel the tension in every muscle.

"Move," I say.

He does. Pulls out slowly until just the tip of him is inside me, then slides back in with a slow deliberate thrust that makes me feel every single inch.

My breath catches and my fingers dig into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.

"God, you feel good," he says. "So tight."

He sets a slow rhythm, long deep strokes that make me gasp every time he bottoms out.

His hands grip my hips and I realize he's favoring his wounded side, keeping the pace controlled.

But I don't want controlled.

"Harder," I say.

"Francis..."

"I won't break. I need more."

His face changes. His jaw sets and his eyes go dark and he pulls almost all the way out before driving back in hard enough to punch the air from my lungs.

"Like that?" he asks.

"Yes. God, yes."

He does it again. And again. Setting a brutal pace that has the headboard hitting the wall with each thrust.

I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into him, pulling him deeper, harder, taking everything he's giving me.

His hand slides between us and finds my clit, circling with rough pressure that makes my eyes roll back.

"Not yet," he says when I start to tighten around him. "Not until I say."

"I can't hold off."

"Yes you can."

He slows down, grinding deep instead of thrusting, and the pressure is maddening.