Single Mom for the Bikers Read Online Stephanie Brother

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
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“Will we?” I move my hands up, getting them underneath his clinging shirt so I can push it up, running my fingers over his rock hard abs as I do.

He lets go just long enough to turn off the water and help me peel his shirt off. Getting his wet jeans down is a struggle. I crouch down so I can put my weight into pulling them down, and then suddenly he's right there, thick and wet, glistening with more than just water. I wrap my fingers around him, feeling him pulse.

His breathing quickens and he draws a sharp gasp through his teeth as I run my thumb over the throbbing head. I'm no blushing virgin, obviously, but God, he's big. I haven’t been with anyone in years. In my experience, men have mostly been trouble and I’ve had enough on my plate with taking care of my little girl.

Being with him, it’ll be like the first time all over. Only better.

I look up at him as I press his scalding hot thickness against my cheek. His body takes my breath away, strong and solid, covered in ink and scars that tell the story of his life. “Can I tell you a secret? I had a crush on you years ago. After you helped me go home, I used to imagine that you would come for me.”

His smoldering eyes widen a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now that I’m a little older I understand why you stayed away, but my teenage fantasies are still going to enjoy every second of this.” I kiss the side of his cock, then trace a thick vein with my tongue, all the way up until I reach the crown.

He closes his eyes and hisses as he steadies himself against the shower wall. “Fuck, Shel, you're…”

Havoc trails off as I run the tip of my tongue around the sensitive ridge, right where the head meets the shaft. I won't claim I'm great at this, but I have some ideas, and Havoc seems to be completely on board with them. He runs his fingers into my hair, not painfully, but enough to make sure I know he's in control. As much as he can be with his eyes closed and my lips wrapped around his cock, anyway.

I rise up, just enough to pull the tip of him all the way into my mouth, to envelop that thick head and explore it with my tongue. To taste him directly. He groans and his grip tightens enough to tug at the roots. Not enough to hurt, just enough to sting and make it more intense. God, it's never been like this.

He pulls me deeper, just a little. The head bumps against the roof of my mouth, and then he pulls back. I tighten my lips around him, my nostrils flaring as I breathe around the steady thrust of his shaft. He pulls me away suddenly.

“Fuck, Shel. I'm not ready to be done so damn fast. Come.” He pulls me to my feet, and helps me out of the shower, and through the door to the room so he can throw me onto the bed.

“I'm all wet!”

“Not half as wet as you're fucking going to be,” he growls with a grin. He drops to his knees as he hooks his hands under my knees and yanks me right up to the edge of the bed.

“Fuck, you're perfect,” he near moans, just before swiping his broad tongue through my folds. “And fucking soaked for me. I love it.”

A sudden flash of self-consciousness hits me. I've had a baby. What if. “It's not… I had…”

He looks up at me, an expression of disbelief on his face. “You're not getting shy now, are you? I know you’ve had a kid, woman. You’re not a broken toy. You’re a fucking MILF.” And then he's right back in there like that settles any question I might have about my desirability.

To be fair, he makes a solid argument.

I slide my fingers into his hair, digging my nails into his scalp as I guide his tongue exactly where I want it. I press my hips up against him, as the most delicious, wondrous heat forms between my legs and spreads. My back arches all on its own, pressing my shoulders and ass into the bed, but no matter how much I squirm, he's right there with me, his stubble scratching the insides of my thighs.

His tongue swirls over my clit, and I moan so loud I worry someone will hear me through the door. Every little muscle in me goes tight like a coiled spring, about to launch me into the stratosphere. I can't think, can't process—just feel. He keeps up the pressure in steady circles as I pull air in sharp gasps, and then I explode, all of that heat trapped in my empty core having to go somewhere.


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