Page 38 of Bound to the Bikers

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Alpha fucks me like a machine. I scream with pleasure as his hips smack hard into my ass with enough force to rock me forwards into Ripper. This is the roughness I needed. Something to lose myself in, to forget about the real world. They’re taking me, making me theirs. I don’t have to think about or decide on anything.

My climax eased off while they switched, but with Alpha’s regular pounding, it doesn’t take long before I’m there again, every stroke filling me just right, just perfectly. My heart’s pounding, and I can barely draw air around Ripper. Every time Alpha bottoms out, heat roils through me, swelling and building until I’m moments from erupting.

When I finally come, every muscle in my body clenches, and my vision swims. I scream around Ripper’s cock, pressing back into Alpha for even more. My eyes squeezed tight, I ride out every wave of pleasure. He doesn’t stop fucking me, and every time I think it’s too much, he teaches me I’m wrong. I’ve never come this long or this hard, ever in my life.

“Oh, fuck me,” Alpha moans in that deep voice of his as he pulls out fast and my back is showered in scalding cum.

Shock ripples through me at how close we just came to potential disaster. Part of me wishes he did make a mess of my insides, even if I’m glad he was more responsible than me. I didn’t even think to ask them about protection.

“Look at me,” Ripper orders.

I open my eyes to find him stroking his rock hard cock right in front of my face. Just in time, I close my lips around him, and he fills my mouth with salty flavor that I swallow down as quickly as it comes. It’s overwhelming. When it finally stops, I suckle gently until he pulls back with a shudder. “Fuck, too sensitive. Jesus.”

I collapse on the bed as soon as they release me, then follow, squeezing in on each side of me. The bed is narrow, so we’re so close that we’re breathing heavily together, recovering from the most intense sex I’ve had in my life.

“Oh my God, guys. I’ve never—” I don’t even know what to say.

Ripper runs a finger teasingly down my side and over my hip. “Fuck, you’re something else. Was it good enough, or do we have to get up for another round?”

I blink in surprise. “Can you?”

Alpha rumbles a laugh as he wraps his arm around my waist. Even soft, I can feel how thick his cock is against my ass. “You might have to work a little for it, but for you? I think we could make it happen.”

I shake my head. “No, not yet. That was… That was amazing.”

“Feel better?”

Oh right. That. I have to think about it. “Yeah, I do, actually. It’s still fucked up, and I’m… I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel, but for now? Just hold me. Please?”

“Of course, babe.” Ripper presses against me, kissing the top of my head. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

“Worth the wait,” adds Alpha, kissing the back of my neck.

“Yeah,” I whisper as I wiggle into him. Despite what he said earlier, I swear I feel him stiffen a little. “Yeah, maybe it was.”

The door slams open, making me jump, but between Ripper and Alpha, I’m pretty much completely hidden, and they don’t seem concerned.

“You fucking assholes,” says Blade, his hoarse voice filled with disappointment.

19

FAITH

It doesn’t havethe ominous aura of the Pit Viper’s headquarters, but there’s no mistaking the Screaming Eagles compound as anything other than an MC clubhouse. Alpha raises an arm and someone opens the front gate to reveal a courtyard filled with choppers, cruisers, touring bikes and all sorts of other vehicles.

There’s a massive open garage where tattooed, shirtless guys are working on their motorcycles, even at this time of night, and a smattering of buildings that fill the space behind the clubhouse itself. The main building is a converted warehouse, with a massive metal staircase up the front and a gigantic Screaming Eagles MC logo on the wall, lit up by floodlights. It’s like the biker bat signal. And around the perimeter is a sheet metal wall that’s got to be two stories tall, with curling barbed wire along the top.

This is my father’s kingdom, so it’s supposed to feel like home instead of a prison, but we’ll see about that.

A bell clangs as we drive in, picked up by another, and then another. Bikers run in from all sides, and from the top of the stairs comes a man I haven’t seen in nearly a year.

Dad’s hair has more silver than I’m used to, but he still strikes an imposing figure with his powerful arms crossed over his chest. He stands broad, in worn jeans and motorcycle boots, and he’s grown his mustache thicker. Even when I was little, his one eye was milky and blind, but the other one is still as sharp as his namesake’s. Jupiter, his boxer dog, has grown up a lot since I last saw him, losing the gangly puppy legs that always seemed too big for him.

“Faith!” he shouts, taking the stairs two at a time. “What the fuck happened?” Behind him, a couple other bikers follow more slowly.

Even after seeing what he did on the tape, and everything I’ve been through, my heart still squeezes in my chest, and I throw my arms around my father. Bikers swarm the guys, talking a mile a minute, but for a second I let myself enjoy the safety of the man I thought I knew.

“Dad.” My voice cracks.


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