Page 50 of Sweet Revenge for the Bikers

“You just keep telling me that, babe. Good for the ego.” He chuckles, then lifts my ass, rolling me against him and pulling me up until just the tip is inside. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” It comes out as a whisper.

He lowers me down his full length, filling me deep right out in the open. When I open my eyes, I’m looking out over the river, and I can hear the traffic passing by on the bridge above us. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip so I don’t scream out my pleasure. The last thing we need is people coming to see what’s going on.

The only ones I want coming are us.

I reach behind me over my head, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold on as he lifts and lowers me on his cock, filling me deep every time. The only thing that would make this better would be if Mad Dog and Rebel were here too.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“That’s it. I love hearing dirty words come outta your mouth. Not so innocent once you’re warmed up, are you?” He nibbles my ear.

He wants dirty talk? I can do that. “Fuck me. Make me come on your cock,” I hiss. “I want you to show me how good you can make it.”

He moans, his grip on my ass and thigh tightening as he moves me faster. Every time that monster cock of his reaches deep inside me, it stirs my fires, making them flare up harder and hotter.

I try to keep up the dirty talk, but soon I’m too busy just trying to keep my short gasps under control, and my moans from getting too loud. I don’t usually come just from penetration, but whether it’s the wild intensity of our situation, or the angle he’s hitting me at, I can feel it coming. Feel me coming.

“Riptide, I’m…” is all I can produce before it hits me.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, pushing and pulling me faster and faster as I explode in his lap. I let go of his neck so I can cover my mouth to muffle myself. Electric surges burn their way through me, arcing over my skin and frying my mind as I lose the last vestiges of control. His shaft swells, feeling even bigger and harder as my body squeezes him, every muscle I’ve got tensing up. The groan that pushes past my hand doesn’t even feel human.

“Rip…” I can’t make words.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he groans, and then his fingers dig into my thighs so hard it’ll leave marks. He swells and pulses, and I swear I can feel every drop that I squeeze out of him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants in whispers, a quiet mantra. Little aftershocks chase my orgasm, ripples of pleasure like a pebble skipped over calm water.

I slump against him, finally spent, while he holds me close with one arm and slips his free hand up to gently play with my breast. Tilting my head back, I nuzzle into his neck. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah, it was. I’m gonna have to find a different spot to come think about all the shit parts of life, since I don’t think this one’s gonna work anymore.” He laughs softly.

Our reverie is cut short by a sharp whistle and a cheer from the bridge.

My eyes shoot open, and I find myself looking right at a figure far above us. I have no idea how long they’ve been there, but I’m pretty sure they had front-row seats to the grand finale, at the very least.

“Oh my God.”

Riptide is still in me.

He laughs and lifts. “Off you go.”

As soon as I’m on my feet, I yank my jeans and panties back on, then gratefully take my shirt from Riptide’s hands. The figure wanders off, apparently not as interested when it’s just Riptide’s impressive cock that’s still on display. Their loss.

“Think they’re going to go jerk off?” he asks, not sounding all that upset, really.

“Probably.” I let him pull me after him so we can get back on the bike and out of here before someone actually calls the police or something. I laugh, almost a little hysterically as I climb on behind him. “I can’t believe we did that.”

“We made their day,” he says with a laugh. “I bet they’ll have that in their spank bank for a while, but that’s all they’re fucking getting. You’re mine, babe.”

“Just yours?”

He grins. “Ours. Only ours, though.”

“I like the sound of that,” I admit. “Home?” I wrap my hands around his torso, and press my face against the back of his jacket, using him for support and warmth.

“You got it.”

I called it home, and I know that doesn’t have to mean anything real yet, but at the same time, it felt really natural.