Page 19 of Contracted to the Bikers

He quickly removes his boxers and then kisses me again, hovering over me, arm muscles taut. I reach down to stroke his bare cock, getting even more turned on as I feel how hard he is. I guide it toward my wet and ready entrance, and his eyes meet mine as he slowly pushes inside. It’s been so long, and he’s bigger than my ex, so it feels tight, but deliciously so.

“Fuck, Sloane, you feel even better than I imagined,” he groans as he slowly starts to move his hips.

“You’ve imagined this before?” I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, based on what’s happening, but somehow, I thought this was a spur-of-the-moment decision for him.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” His thrusts grow faster, harder now, and already I feel like I could cum again. “We all did,” he admits with a stage whisper, watching for my reaction.

I think about what it’d be like if Rook and Boone were here right now, and I groan, getting even wetter.

He chuckles under his breath. “Naughty girl, you’ve surprised me. You’ve been imagining this, too, only with all three of us, haven’t you?” He guesses correctly.

He grips my hips, pulling me up so we’re kneeling and upright, my legs around his waist as he bounces me on his cock with ease, skin to skin, fucking me faster and harder.

“Yes,” I admit, the confession tearing out of me with a moan as he fucks me with such speed it’s comparable to my vibrator.

He smiles, satisfied and turned on by the admission. “We’ll have to make our fantasy become a reality then, won’t we?”

When I scream out “yes” in reply, I’m not sure if I’m agreeing or if I’m simply enjoying the pleasure too much and screaming for more as he fucks me to the edge of orgasm once more.

“Fuck, Sloane, you’re incredible,” he says as I cum hard.

I let go completely, pussy tightening around his cock like a vise, head thrown back, my hair fallen loose from its bun as I cry out in ecstasy, not caring who hears us. As I reach the pinnacle of the best orgasm I’ve ever had, Cruz reaches his, crying out my name and kissing me as he cums deep inside me with a judder.

We fall back onto the bed and lie there panting, blissed out. I lie there as Cruz holds me with a giant grin on my face. “Well, that was…”

“Incredible, the best you’ve ever had?” he quips, grinning back.

I laugh, tapping him lightly. “Maybe, but we don’t want that ego of yours to get any bigger, so I plead the fifth. I was going to say, unexpected.”

“Or inevitable. Rook’s gonna kill me though.”

I sit upright, worries already creeping back in. “Why? You said he’d be cool with sharing.” I don’t go into how it’s hardly sharing since I’ve not been with him. Yet, my insatiable mind adds.

“Because I had you first and you’re his.”

This whole attitude of ownership is mildly infuriating, if not a little exciting. “Well, Rook should have been as good at seducing me as you,” I tease. “If he wants me, he should do something about it. He should claim me.”

“Oh, he will now,” Cruz promises.

Before this, I’d have raged against the idea, even lied and denied my physical attraction to Rook, but now the thought both scares and thrills me. “If he’s half as good as you, maybe I won’t mind.”

Cruz’s eyes darken with hunger again, and he makes a promise that makes my toes curl. “Oh, you’ve not experienced anything yet, lawyer girl.”

My reply and the promise of another round are cut off by the thunderous sound of Rook bellowing for Cruz. Either he heard us, or Cruz did something else to piss him off. Cruz shoots me a cheeky, sorry-not-sorry smile and gets up, quickly pulling his clothes back on and rushing downstairs, shutting the door behind him to give me my privacy.

I have a feeling I’ve just started an avalanche that’s about to bury us all, but right now, I don’t care.

Chapter 8

Cruz

I know I’m gonna get punched before I even make it down the stairs. I’ve not heard Rook sound this pissed in a long time. As I walk into the main room, it’s quiet, too quiet. I can feel the shift in the air, like a storm rolling in low and fast, pressure building before the first crack of thunder hits. Tension coils in the air as everyone pretends they’re not watching, studying their drinks, but no one speaks; they’re waiting for the show.

I drag a hand through my hair, rolling my shoulders once as I walk toward him. I feel the charged energy crackling in the air, reminding me of when I was a boxer about to enter the ring.

Rook is standing near the table waiting. He’s motionless, a predator ready to strike. The only sign of his rage is the tightness of his jaw and the throbbing muscle as he clamps it shut. Yeah, this is happening.

“Well,” I say, easy, because that’s how I do everything, “you called?”