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Why, oh why, had she ever thought this man was less than perfect? Lifting one of her legs, he slid it over his shoulder, and then lifted her hips from the bed. She recognized the pose. The first time he’d ever used it, she thought he was mimicking something he’d seen in a skin flick. Three thrusts in, and she began thinking of it as his set-the-sheets-on-fire position. It was truly one of her favorites. Running his tongue slowly over his bottom lip, she could see a thick layer of lust covering his excited expression.
Looking down to the place where their bodies joined, Ryder pulled out and immediately slammed back in. His upper lip came up slightly in a sexy snarl as he set a steady pace.
Bringing her hands up, Tiffany braced herself against the headboard. A good, rough fuck by a gorgeous biker was the one thing she was missing in life. And Ryder never was one to disappoint her in that regard.
Arching her back, she enjoyed the way Ryder’s broad, muscular shoulders looked hovering over her. His hand came down on her mound, and a thick, meaty thumb began circling her clit.
She gritted out, “Do not make me scream in my mother’s house.”
Ryder’s chest puffed up with pride, and he proceeded to speed up his rough thrusting and adjusted his trajectory slightly until he was sliding across her G-spot with each stroke.
“Too much, baby. It’s too much,” she moaned.
“I already told you, sweetness. Only the biggest and best cock is good enough for my woman.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on something else. Nothing could possibly distract her from the proper sex Ryder was intent on ensuring she had.
“Open those pretty blue eyes,” he commanded. “I need them on me. Better yet, watch me fuck you.”
Unable to resist his softly spoken command, Tiffany pushed herself up onto one elbow. Watching his thick cock moving in and out of her body was not only strangely hypnotic, but it was also kicking up her arousal to absurd levels.
“You like having a biker’s cock in your pretty pink pussy?”
“God yes,” she hissed. “Don’t stop.”
“Stop? Not a chance,” he swore. “I’m only getting started, baby.”
Coming down on top of her, he jerked his chin to the headboard. Knowing what he wanted, she braced herself against the headboard again.
Kissing the side of her neck, he whispered seductively, “Nothing in the entire world feels better than you coming around my cock.”
“Love it when you talk dirty, baby,” Tiffany murmured through her lust-filled haze. Lifting her other leg, she made room for him to settle in deeper.
Ryder, having an opportunistic streak a mile wide, immediately took advantage of her generous offer. Bringing his hand down, he began stroking her tender bud as he sucked on one pointed nipple. When he nipped at her breasts, she felt herself almost shatter.
“Come for me, Tiff. Let me feel your soft, warm body choking my cock.”
As if his filthy words controlled her mind and body, she bowed off the bed under him with the force of the mind-blowing orgasm. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her as he pounded out his own orgasm. It didn’t take long before his hips came to a stuttering stop and he went deep, filling her with his seed.
“Damn, woman, you slay me every single time.”
~ Tiffany ~
Sitting at the breakfast table, Tiffany enjoyed the slight ache between her legs. Feeling like every inch the pervert, she squeezed her thighs together, just to feel the tiny reminder of where the man she loved had been for the better part of the night.
Slipping an extra piece of French toast onto the edge of his plate, she poured him some more orange juice. Ryder had turned into an eating machine of some sort. It made her chest hurt to think that he’d been neglecting himself because he was so worried about her. Nibbling on her own food, she listened to the conversation swirling around her.
Hickory spoke between mouthfuls of food. “I went over the information your father gathered, Tiffany. It looks like your ex is skimming cash off his father’s business and has been for years.”
Her mother interjected, “I don’t think his father would press charges if he knew.”
Ven spoke up next. “The IRS might object to him never claiming or paying taxes on that money.”
Sarah sighed. “We thought about that. His family would offer to pay restitution, and he’d get off with light sentencing.”
Tiffany found herself speaking without intending to. “We need to have a look in his basement.”
Everyone turned to look at her. Pushing past her initial propensity to freeze up, she cleared her throat. “Sometimes, he used to put me down there.”
