Page 36 of My Enemy Biker

He pulls out and I make an involuntary sound of loss. He grins, rolls onto his back, pulls me on top of him.

"Your turn," he says. "Take what you want."

I straddle him, still sensitive but already wanting more. Position myself and sink down onto him slowly.

The angle is different like this. Deeper. We both groan.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Yes. Ride me."

I start moving, finding my rhythm.

His hands come to my hips, guiding but not controlling. Then they move up to my breasts, playing with my nipples. Down tomy waist, my stomach, my thighs. Touching everywhere like he can't decide what he wants most.

"You look incredible like this," he says, voice wrecked. "Taking what you want. Using me for it. So fucking perfect."

I lean forward, change the angle slightly, brace my hands on his chest. He takes the opportunity to thrust up into me and I gasp.

"That's it," he says. "Take it. Take everything."

I'm getting close again, didn't think it was possible but the angle combined with his hands on me is building the pressure fast.

He slides one hand between us, finds my clit.

"One more," he says. "Give me one more."

"You keep saying that."

"Because I mean it." His fingers work my clit while I ride him and I'm so close I can barely breathe. "Come for me, Anna."

I do. Crying out, clenching around him, nails digging into his chest.

Before I've recovered he sits up, wraps his arms around me, flips us so I'm on my back again.

"My turn," he says.

He pulls out and I'm about to protest when he flips me onto my stomach, pulls my hips up.

"On your knees."

I comply and then he's inside me from behind. This angle is deeper, more intense, and I cry out as he fills me completely.

"Too much?" he asks, voice strained.

"Don't stop."

He doesn't. Sets a punishing pace, hands gripping my hips hard enough I'll have bruises tomorrow. I don't care. Want them. Want the reminder.

"You have any idea how long I've wanted this?" His voice is rough. "How many times I've thought about having you exactly like this?"

I can't form words. Can only make sounds.

One hand slides around to my clit and I'm already so oversensitive I almost can't take it.

"Too much," I manage.

"Not too much." His fingers keep working. "One more. You're going to give me one more."

"I can't—"